Not the Right Fit

Just as I took off the suit, which was clearly a size too small, Sylvie Thompson walked through the door.She reeked of alcohol, kicked off her high heels without care, and offered a half-hearted compliment. "Nice suit. Looks good on you."Her eyes didn't linger. She didn't even glance at me twice. Instead, she pulled her car keys from her purse and tossed them onto the table."Take this tomorrow. Everyone attending will be someone of status. And make sure to find a makeup artist for that face of yours—cover up the scar."I touched the scar on my cheek. The fleeting look of disdain on her face pierced through me, sharp and cold.There was a time when she loved me. A time when she would worry about my injuries, when appearances didn't matter to her. But now, all that remained was undisguised disgust.I said nothing. Quietly, I hung the suit back in the closet."No need. Cancel the wedding," I said calmly.Then I reached into the drawer, took out the divorce papers, and looked st

Inside my rental apartment, I sat scrolling through my phone, searching for a reputable plastic surgery clinic.Just then, a push notification lit up my screen.[Top Trending in the City: The Wedding of the Century—Genius Designer Sylvie Thompson and Her Beloved!]I had told myself I was over it. But the moment I saw the headline, a dull ache welled up in my chest.I tapped into the Thompson Group's official livestream.It was just in time to see Sylvie and Tyler exchanging rings.The camera zoomed in, panning slowly from the hem of his suit upward in a polished close-up. Beside him, Sylvie beamed with joy, addressing the audience as she explained the inspiration behind the suit."This was designed by my husband and me, a tribute to the promise we made in our youth. We hope all couples in love can journey from school uniforms to suits, from shirts to wedding gowns."That suit—the one she once promised would be mine—fit Tyler perfectly. The initials "TC" shimmered faintly unde

"I'm just a waiter, huh? Then let me clean that filthy mouth of yours!"I flung the teapot, scalding tea splashing straight across Tyler's face. He shrieked in pain, jerking back as steam rose from his skin."What the hell?! You've lost your damn mind, Johnny!"Before he could recover, I slammed my fist hard into his face."Throwing a wedding with another man's wife—and you look proud of it? You're so eager to play the kept man? Fine. I'll ruin that smug face of yours."Sylvie paled, frozen for a beat before shouting for the butler to stop me.I landed punch after punch before they dragged me back. In the scuffle, my foot landed squarely on Tyler's hand.He curled up on the floor, groaning in pain. The Thompson family rushed to his side, fussing over him like he was made of porcelain.Sylvie's father was livid, his face blotched red with fury. "You freak! You lunatic! You think you can show up at a Thompson family dinner and act like this? Divorce! You're getting divorced!"

It was probably because work had consumed my entire life these past few weeks, but standing across from Sylvie again, talking like this—it felt like something from another lifetime."Your face…" she said softly."I had surgery overseas," I replied, touching the faint ridges on my cheek where the scars still lingered. "Figured it was time I stopped frightening people in public."She looked at me, then hesitated. "But why enter a design competition? I thought acting was your true passion."I didn't answer. But from the way her expression shifted, she already realized how foolish the question was.My injuries had been too severe—facial nerves damaged, muscles stiff and unresponsive. I could barely manage basic expressions. And acting, of all professions, demanded a full spectrum of emotion.A heavy silence settled between us.After a long moment, Sylvie broke it first."Grandma was hospitalized recently. I've been taking care of her," she said. "She keeps talking about wanting a g

At the hospital, the doctor examined me and cleaned the wound.A blood test revealed traces of a mild sedative in my system. The police later confirmed that the same substance had been found in the food at my apartment.There was no denying it—when Sylvie lost control, she was terrifying.The cut on my face wasn't long, but it was deep.As the doctor applied medication, he spoke with a frown."You need to be careful with this. Your facial nerves were already compromised from your previous injury. You're lucky the wound didn't go deeper. If it had… not even the best plastic surgeon could have helped you."Sylvie, sitting nearby for questioning, suddenly panicked.She grabbed the doctor's sleeve, pleading, "Please—please save him. I don't care how much it costs, I'll pay anything!"Her outburst left everyone stunned.A nurse rushed to calm her down.I stared at her helpless expression, and to my own surprise, I felt a tightness in my chest.The last time I'd been in a hospital