I've never had him

I released Bianco’s hand, yet voice turned cold.

“Fine, just pick the one you want.”

Bianco was stunned by my compromise. He didn’t expect that I would obey him so fast.

Amy, however, started to sob:

“Don, don’t break Alice’ s heart because of me. She’s the bride after all.”

She was playing the victim as usual.

“But I don’t want to see anyone cry either.”

Bianco wiped off her tears gently:

“Without you, Alice couldn’t have had the chance to meet me.”

“Her heart won’t be broken because of you, instead she will appreciate you.”

His words stabbed into my hearts like swords.

Looking at the photo of us on the screen, I saw Amy smiling complacently.

Bianco looked at her with clear appreciation and gentle.

I stood at the edge of the photo, seemed to be the group performer accidentally entered their love story.

I turned to the photographer:

“Remember to send the negative to my mail box. Select the one that Don want as the poster. Do whatever you want to the others.”

I finished my words, opened the door to leave.

Bianco followed me. He tried to hold my hand:

“What’s wrong, honey? You look sad.”

“Nothing.” I got rid of his hand.

“Are you still jealous of Amy?” Bianco knitted his brows, “she’s your best friend.”

“I’m not jealous.” I looked into his green eyes, “I agreed with your choice.”

“All right.” Bianco shrugged his shoulder then gave me a hug:

“I love you, my dear. You’re the world to me.”

I rolled my eyes.

His world couldn’t even stand in the middle of his wedding poster. It was so ridiculous.

Amy came to us with two cups of drinks, she smiled:

“I bought you something to drink, I hope it can bring good mood back to you.”

Bianco took the drink naturally. He inserted the straw and handed back to Amy.

“You’re having your period. Drink something warm.”

Then he turned to me:

“You drink that iced one instead. You’re not in your period anyway.”

I looked at the steaming latte in Amy's hand.

That was my favorite flavor, half-sugar, with an extra shot of espresso.

And the iced Americano he shoved at me was something I absolutely couldn’t touch.

Tree years ago, I saved Bianco from enemy’s bullet. The bullet hit my belly, causing me frequent abdominal pain and I could never drink anything cold.

Yesterday, Bianco had just accompanied me to the hospital for relevant examinations.

He didn’t forget about my injure. He was just used to sacrifice me in front of Amy.

I didn't take the iced Americano and walked straight to the car parked by the roadside.

"Let's go, we still need to pick up the wedding rings."

I sighed and got in the car.

Since I wanted to break up with Bianco, it was time for me to take the ring I had designed for wedding back.

The car was filled with a suffocating silence.

At the jewelry store, the saleswoman pushed an exquisite velvet box in front of us.

Inside lay two diamond rings sparkling with light.

The inner band of the ring was engraved with the initials of my name and Bianco's, with a heart in the middle.

I spent three months designing the ring, hoping that it could represent the love and bright future of me and Bianco.

Bianco picked up the women's ring, but his gaze didn't fall on me:

“Amy, your knuckles are about the same size as Alice. Try the ring for her.”

I raised my head, looking at him in disbelief.

That was my wedding ring! How could it be tried by other women?

Amy smiled awkwardly, yet her eyes carried a hint of provocation:

"Isn't this a bit inappropriate? They are your wedding rings, after all."

Bianco directly took Amy's hand and slowly slid the ring that represented our promise onto her ring finger.

The size was surprisingly perfect.

Amy raised her hand, admiring the diamond's refraction under the light.

"It's so beautiful. Don’s taste is so good."

I stared fixedly at that ring. My stomach churning violently, with a dull pain lingering within.

"Take it off," I said coldly.

Amy flinched slightly and looked helplessly at Bianco.

“I’ll take it off.” Amy sobbed.

However, the ring stuck on her finger.

“Ouch, it hurts……” Amy cried.

Bianco immediately stood up nervously. He gripped her hand tensely, carefully helping her adjust the ring.

“Don’t force it. The ring may hurt your bone.”

Then he turned his head and glared at me with his tone full of blame.

"Couldn't you have designed a half-size bigger? Why did you have to make it so tight?"

I watched him, for the sake of another woman, complaining about the wedding ring I had carefully prepared.

My chest felt tight and painful. Even my breath carried a bloody scent.

I didn't argue, nor did I lose my temper.

I just kept the photos the photographer just sent me.

They might be of great help someday.

Half an hour later, the ring still stuck on Amy’s finger.

Bianco looked at her finger with a pained expression.

“It’s all Alice’s fault. Just keep the ring. After your finger swelling subsides, perhaps the ring can be removed”

I trembled at his words, and saw him leave with Amy.

I was deserted in the jewelry store.

I looked at the empty velvet box and suddenly felt it was incredibly ridiculous.

Opening the car door, I habitually sat in the passenger seat.

But I found that the seat had been adjusted to the foremost position.

There was a lipstick left there. Obviously, it belonged to Amy.

The perfume she used lingered in the air.