I Regret Ever Loving You

My friend's wedding used the very plan I once created for my own.

Back then, I spent half a year designing every detail of the ceremony. Hugo Hudson rejected it in less than a minute. After a perfunctory wedding ritual, he made me a promise. No matter how much he played around outside, I would always be his legal wife.

And today, he brought his mistress to this wedding.

The moment I stepped into the venue, all kinds of looks shot my way. Curious. Gossipy. And some, tinged with pity.

Only Hugo remained as calm as ever, his expression light and indifferent. "You're here."

I glanced at the young girl clinging to his arm and nodded calmly.

After seven years of marriage, his affairs were nothing new. I'd long since grown used to it.

The groom looked awkward, clearly unprepared for this scene.

"Hi, Mia. Please, take a seat."

I gave him a restrained smile, grateful for his attempt to smooth things over.

My assigned seat was already taken. The uninvited guest occupying it had Hugo's protection. He flicked a glance at me and spoke casually, as if it were nothing.

"Your seat's taken. Find another one."

Years of swallowing everything without protest had carved obedience into my bones.

"All right."

The moment I sat down, I could feel the stares around me grow even more blatant.

The groom looked apologetic. When he was called away, he even asked his family to look after me.

Compared to Hugo, even he cared more about how I felt.

The wedding began as scheduled. The bride, wearing the wedding gown I had designed, walked down the red carpet I had arranged. She married into the happiness I never had.

Everything looked exactly like the dream I once envisioned. Except the one living that dream wasn't me.

The girl on Hugo's arm was very young; her expression was innocent and lively.

"Mia, I heard from Hugo that you're really good at flower arranging. Could you make me a bouquet too? Just like the one the bride's holding."

The atmosphere froze instantly. Everyone at the table exchanged glances, not daring to say a word.

I set down my fork and instinctively looked at Hugo.

He affectionately ruffled the girl's hair, then lifted his chin toward me, giving an order.

"What are you sitting there for? Go on—hurry up."

Meeting his mocking gaze, I paused for a moment. Then I smiled, suddenly at ease.

I pushed my chair back, stood up, and turned toward the exit without hesitation.

Hugo nodded in satisfaction and urged, "Move faster."

I didn't respond. My steps never slowed.

From the banquet hall to the hotel entrance, and from the entrance to the street—I didn't look back once.

Passing a trash can, I slipped off the ill-fitting red-soled heels on my feet and tossed them inside.

If something doesn't fit, no point keeping it.

The instant my bare feet touched the ground, I let out a long breath. It felt as though even the invisible shackles wrapped around me had finally vanished.

After seven years of marriage, I finally felt grounded.

I had just gotten home when Hugo called.

"How long are you planning to make one bouquet? Don't you know Alice is waiting for you?"

I idly adjusted the flower arrangement on the table and replied without interest, "I never agreed to make a bouquet for her. Besides, I'm already home."

Hugo let out a cold laugh. "Mia, you've grown bold, haven't you?"

"Mhm."

To his surprise, I calmly agreed with him.