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Chapter 8

Autor: City Scribe
I just stood there in silence, watching them leave. When I got home, I took out the photos from when Vincent and I were still together. I looked at them one by one. After a long time, I picked up my phone and dialed the number for a cemetery sales office.

“Hello, I’d like to purchase a burial plot in Queens Cemetery, next to a woman named Catherine.”

Catherine was my mother. She passed away eight years ago.

The salesperson’s voice was warm and polite. “Miss Christine, may I ask who in your family this plot is for?”

“For myself,” I said. “I want to be buried next to my mother.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then, he quickly recovered. “Alright.”

I continued, “There’s one more thing I need to trouble you with. Tomorrow, could you come to the top of the Empire State Building and collect my body?”

This time, the salesperson fell silent.

I added, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay extra.”

“Alright, Miss Christine. We’ll arrange for a funeral vehicle to be at the Empire State Building tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

After ending the call, I cleaned the entire house. Then, I took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and lay down in bed. That night, I had an unexpectedly beautiful dream. I dreamed that eight years ago, my mother had never died, Vincent had never gone to prison, and I had married him. Every winter after that, Vincent and I traveled together to the Alps, Norway, and Iceland.

The next day was December 17th. It was also Vincent’s wedding day. I found a white dress and put on light makeup to cover my pale, worn face. Then, following the route I had long saved in my phone, I made my way to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The place was filled with guests. Outside the church, every passerby was someone important in New York society. However, I didn’t go in. I stood off to the side, watching from a distance.

Vincent, dressed in a dark suit, stood beside Elena, who wore a snow-white wedding gown, greeting their guests. For a brief moment, I saw my own face in Elena’s, as if the one standing next to Vincent was me.

In my heart, I whispered, “Vincent, I’ll just pretend that today, I married you.”

After that, I turned and fled the church. Once outside, I found myself, almost without thinking, heading to the top of the Empire State Building. It was strange. I couldn’t even remember the way home anymore, yet I still remembered how to get to the place where Vincent and I had our first date.

Looking at the familiar view, I couldn’t help but open my phone and start recording a video, saying all the things I could never tell Vincent.

“Vincent, congratulations to you and Elena on your wedding today. I’m sorry I can’t attend. It’s because I’ve decided to leave this world. I hope that you and Elena will be happy forever because one of you is the man I love most and the other is my best friend.”

I looked into the camera, my eyes turning red.

“Vincent, there are some things I never had the courage to tell you. Whether it was eight years ago or now, I’ve always loved you. The reason I left you back then was because I was sick. I was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Isn’t it ridiculous? I was so young, yet I got a disease meant for the elderly. But that’s only to be expected. When my mom was forty, she had forgotten who I was. Maybe it’s hereditary.”

I gave a bitter smile, my fingers trembling slightly as I held the phone. I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. I just said everything I could still remember.

“As for sending you to prison eight years ago, that was arranged by your father, and as for why, you can ask him yourself. Vincent, for the past eight years, not a single day has gone by without me thinking of you, because you are the kindest person in the world to me. I still remember back when I was being bullied in that restaurant, you were the only one who stood up for me right away, and you were the only one who ever thought of giving someone like me a family.”

A light rain began to fall from the sky. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my face was rain or tears.

I looked at the camera, my voice bitter. “But now, you’re starting a family with someone else, not with me, but maybe that’s for the best. Now, I can leave without worry. Vincent, someone like me doesn’t deserve to be loved, so I hope you can forget me.”

I let out everything I had kept buried in my heart. Wiping the cold water from my face, I gave a small smile to the camera.

“Vincent, I’m going to be with my mom now. Goodbye.”

I ended the recording and set my phone aside. Then, I closed my eyes and jumped from the top of the Empire State Building.

Meanwhile, inside St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the wedding had begun, and Vincent and Elena were about to exchange rings. Vincent picked up the Medici family’s blue diamond ring. Just as he was about to place it on Elena’s finger, a sudden wave of unease hit him. As the ring slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, a ripple of gasps spread through the guests. Elena’s smile froze on her face.

At that moment, the cathedral doors suddenly burst open. Two police officers strode in. All eyes turned toward them, and the murmurs died instantly.

“May we ask which one of you is Mr. Vincent Medici?”

That strange unease lingered in Vincent’s chest.

He stepped forward, frowning. “I am. What’s going on?”

One of the officers handed him an evidence bag, his expression grave.

“We received a report of a fall victim earlier. She jumped from the top of the Empire State Building. From her phone, we found that her final message was left for you.”
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  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 20

    On April 20th, Vincent went to the Queens Cemetery for the last time. He was wearing the same dark gray coat he had on during his first date with Christine. Eight years had passed, and the coat now looked worn, with the cuffs frayed. He didn’t know why he had never thrown it away. Maybe he forgot, or maybe he simply couldn’t bring himself to.He sat down in front of my gravestone and placed the white chrysanthemums carefully beside it.“The weather is nice today,” he said softly. “Better than yesterday and the day before. I sat in the cathedral for the whole afternoon and then went to the Mexican restaurant for dinner. The owner isn’t there anymore. It’s someone new now. The risotto isn’t as good as yours. I only took two bites before I stopped eating.”From his pocket, he took out a diary. The edges were worn from being turned too many times. He opened it to the first page.“Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world. No matter who I forget, I must never forget Vinc

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 19

    It was April, and spring had finally sprung in New York. In Queens Cemetery, the grass had begun to turn green again. A few unnamed wildflowers had grown beside my gravestone, as if they had decided to stay where I once was.Vincent came every afternoon. Sometimes, he brought a book; sometimes, he brought nothing at all, but he would sit by the gravestone for hours. John would sometimes follow him, standing far away at the cemetery gate. From there, he watched Vincent’s silhouette. The man who once made New York’s underworld tremble now spent his days sitting in front of a grave, quietly letting an afternoon pass him by. Sometimes, Vincent would speak to the gravestone. Other times, he just sat in silence, like two stones facing each other.One day, after returning from the cemetery, Vincent called John into the study.“John. Do something for me.”“Whatever you need.”“Sort out all my assets. Everything.”Taken aback, John asked, “Everything?”“Everything. Family shares, real es

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 18

    Today was March 11th, and it had been nearly three months since I jumped from the top of the Empire State Building. Vincent went alone to Rockefeller Center. The observatory telescope was still there. He dropped in a coin but didn’t look through it. Instead, he stood on the viewing platform outside for a long time.Today was the day we first looked at the stars together. Back then, I was twenty-four, working as a waitress in that Mexican restaurant, while he was twenty-five, heir to the Medici family. He made up the name of a star to fool me, yet I believed him with my bright smile. Every March 11th after that, I came here. No matter whether I remembered the way or even remembered the star’s position, I always came.Vincent took my diary out of his pocket and turned to the last page of the day I had come.“March 11th. Rockefeller Center. Today, I didn’t see the star. The clouds in New York were too thick, but it’s okay. I remember what Vincent said. That star is called Christine, an

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 17

    In mid-January, Vincent received an email from Mount Sinai Hospital. The sender was Dr. Harrison.“Mr. Vincent, while organizing Miss Christine’s records, I found a video she recorded last year. I had suggested she make it at the time to document the progression of her condition. She stored it in the hospital system and instructed me to deliver it to you after her passing. The video file is attached—Harrison.”The attachment was large. It took Vincent a full ten minutes to download. He sat in his study, the curtains drawn tightly shut. The computer screen was the only source of light in the room.The video began. I was sitting in Dr. Harrison’s office. I wore a gray sweater, my hair tied back, revealing a thin, almost fragile face. My gaze was slightly unfocused, but I was trying my best to look into the camera.“Today is… wait. Let me ask. Dr. Harrison, what’s the date today?”Off camera, Dr. Harrison said, “March 11th.”“March 11th,” I repeated and suddenly smiled. “Today is Ma

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 16

    On December 25, Christmas Day, New York had its first snowfall of the winter. Vincent went alone to the Queens Cemetery. A thin layer of snow had settled on my gravestone. He gently brushed it away and placed a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of it.On the stone was engraved that same sentence, “Vincent Medici is the most important person in this world.”He crouched down and traced the carved letters with his fingers.“It’s Christmas today,” he said softly. “You used to love Christmas. Every year, you’d hang lights all over the apartment. I used to say, what’s the point of decorating a two-hundred-square-foot place like that, but you said the bigger, the better. It was so that when I came back, I could see it from far away. Then, I came back, but your lights weren’t on anymore.”The snow grew heavier, falling on his hair and shoulders. He didn’t have an umbrella. He just stayed there, crouched in front of the grave.After a long while, footsteps came from behind him. John

  • The Bride Who Never Was   Chapter 15

    After Elena left, Vincent stayed in the Mexican restaurant for a long time. The owner eventually came over and asked if he wanted anything else. Vincent simply shook his head, left a few bills on the table, and stood up to leave.Outside, New York’s night wind hit him along with flashes of neon light. The streets were crowded, but no one paid attention to the man in the black shirt walking through them. He walked slowly, almost aimlessly, until he found himself at the Brooklyn Bridge. Cars streamed across it nonstop, their headlights shining. On the pedestrian walkway, joggers passed by, and couples stopped occasionally to take photos.Vincent walked to the middle of the bridge, the exact spot where I had once crouched down. He crouched there now, resting his hands on his knees, just like I had done that day. From that angle, the Brooklyn skyline flickered in and out of the night. I had written about this place in my diary.“Today I crouched down on the Brooklyn Bridge for a long ti

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