My mother was dying. Her only wish before she passed was to see me married. For 27 days, I begged my girlfriend, Monica Teller, and she finally agreed to register for marriage with me on the 27th day. I waited at the courthouse until closing, but she never came. That same day, her childhood sweetheart, Gurney Barnes, posted their marriage certificate on social media. [Time sure flies. Three more days, and we'll have been married for a month.] It was then I finally realized that she had married her childhood sweetheart since the first day I started begging her. Not long after, an apology text from Monica buzzed on my phone. [I'm so sorry, Lincoln. Gurney's family was forcing him into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch him get shackled to a stranger. Just give it three days. We'll file for divorce. Three days later, I'll marry you." Three days later, she showed up at the courthouse in a wedding gown, But the only thing waiting for her was my message. [Goodbye, Monica. May we never meet again.]
View MoreThree days later, news broke from a small Southeast Balira country that a yacht had exploded offshore.Among the wreckage, one charred passport was recovered, one that belonged to Gurney Barnes.The rainy season hit Preuton without warning.I was clutching a stack of design drafts as I dashed into the studio, only to find Lilian waiting at the door with an umbrella."Mr. Holmes' punctuality leaves something to be desired."She shook the raindrops from the canopy, a thin mist fogging her glasses.Then, from beyond the downpour, a raw, hoarse voice cut through."Lincoln..."Monica stood at the street corner, drenched to the skin. Her once-luxurious gown clung like a wrinkled rag, and in her hand she clutched a faded velvet box."I came to keep my promise…"Her hands trembled as she opened it. Inside lay a pair of dull wedding bands, dim in the stormy night."You said..."I laughed softly, cutting her off, fingers brushing the scarred line of my feather brooch."That promise
The night before Fashion Week, I was pacing nervously backstage.Out of nowhere, Lilian appeared beside me with a smirk."I didn't expect our genius designer here could get stage fright."My face flushed as I tried to stand up, but she pressed me back down."Don't move."Lilian straightened my outfit with quick, precise hands."Relax. Everything's ready. All that's left is for the models to bring it to life."She stood right in front of me, the faint fragrance she carried cutting straight through my chest.The dressing room lights flickered, shadows overlapping, and in the mirror I saw our silhouettes so close that they were almost one.Her fingers brushed through the ends of my hair without thought, until the emcee's countdown carried in from the stage."It's time."She stepped back half a pace, looking at me with absolute focus."Remember. Tonight, every clap is for the bird that broke free of its cage."By curtain call, I was leaning back, beer in hand, watching Lilian
Out of nowhere, an entire bucket of slop dumped over Gurney's head.Louis Clayton from the administration department was shaking as he held the empty bucket."Mr. Barnes, I've been dying to do this ever since you trashed Lincoln's cactus."...The sea breeze slipped through the half-open window, salty and damp. I finished the last stroke of my sketch and when I looked up, I looked right into Lilian's gaze as she leaned against the doorframe.She was holding two cups of coffee, squinting at my sketch behind those black-rimmed glasses."The wings on the final draft of 'Caged' have three more fractures than the first version."My fingers froze. On the page, the bird's shattered feathers still reached stubbornly upward, exactly like my own heart the night I huddled in the supply room drawing this series.I drank the coffee, its bitter warmth spreading across my tongue."Fractures are the price of breaking free from the cage, and the cracks let the light in."Lilian bent closer, h
"They are valuable. It's just a pity the later sketches were never seen."Lilian suddenly stood up, her slender fingers brushing over the struggling bird patterns on the draft."To paint freedom from a creature with broken wings... That alone is fascinating."She adjusted her black-rimmed glasses, her eyes curving like crescents behind the lenses."I was a judge that year, and I gave you the highest score. You can start tomorrow. I'll triple your previous salary, but I have only one condition. You must finish the 'Caged' series.""No problem!" I replied enthusiastically.…Monica's assistant, Whitney Crawford, hovered at the doorway, hesitant as she said, "Ms. Teller, Mr. Barnes is here again...""Tell him to get lost!"Monica hurled her phone to the ground. The screen cracked just as the click of leather shoes drew near."Monica, what's wrong? Did Lincoln really abandon you?"Gurney dangled the keys to a brand-new sports car, lips curling in a sneer."The whole world now k
"Just drop the act, you piece of trash," Monica blurted."What did you just say?" Gurney's pupils shrank.Monica suddenly laughed, the sharp edge of the divorce certificate slicing into her palm."Twenty-seven times! Over the twenty-seven days Lincoln begged me to see him, you got an upset stomach twelve times, your car broke down seven times, you fought with your family four times, and even your Chihuahua had two cases of acute gastroenteritis. Gurney, do you really take me for a fool?"A few young couples waiting to get married in the hall quietly lifted their phones to record the pair.Gurney's face drained of color, his carefully styled hair plastered to his temples with cold sweat."You were the one who agreed to help me deal with my family! Now, you're suddenly acting like you cared all along? Where was this when Lincoln...""Shut up!" Monica screamed, cutting him off. "You knew his mother..."In that instant, all the memories she buried clawed their way back.Me crouche
The plane was on the way, ready to land in Preuton. It was a seaside city I'd always longed for but never been to.It was a place with no Monica, no Gurney, and no suffocating gossips.Through the wide cabin window, the plane sliced through the clouds, and suddenly, I remembered that night from six years ago.Monica stood downstairs at my apartment, soaked to the bone in the torrential rain as she confessed to me."Lincoln, let's work hard together. I promise we'll have a comfortable life ahead!"I unlocked my phone. There were 17 unread messages, with the newest one from just five minutes ago.[Lincoln, I'm at the courthouse. When will you get here?]I stared at the screen for a moment before laughing out loud.How ironic.27 days of begging, and all I got was her empty promise."I'll marry you in three days."Since the three days were up, I did not even have the strength to tear apart her lies anymore.My finger hovered over her number in my contacts. Six years of message
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