The Ten-Year-Old Dream

Quennie's POV

Peter Zafron’s original casual indifference instantly turned into sheer panic. He instinctively hid his phone behind his back.

“Is Andy getting married today?”

Peter’s silence told me everything.

An inexplicable mix of emotions churned inside me.

All I could do was to pull myself together and say to him, “Take me there. We’ve been together for ten years, after all.”

It felt as though someone had torn open a wound inside my heart, and the pain was unbearable.

We had been together for ten years. We dated four years before starting six years of a long-distance relationship.

I had brought up the intention of getting married many times. But Andy Ferrell always either used the distance as an excuse or complained that he had no chance of getting promoted.

He had once told me, “Quennie, I’ll marry you only after I buy a house in Sea City.”

That was why I had worked myself to the bone only to save enough money to buy a house, and then travel all the way there to give Andy a surprise.

But I had never imagined to be the one getting surprised in such a manner.

On the way, Peter looked like he had something to say to me, yet no words came out of his mouth.

When we arrived at the banquet hall on the third floor, he hesitated for a long time before blurting out, “Maybe we shouldn’t go in…”

When I pushed open the doors, the opening notes of the wedding march immediately filled the room.

I saw the photos of Andy with another woman lined both sides of the hall. They had carefully framed and displayed every major moment of theirs from the day they met to the proposal.

I saw my friends in the photos as well. Even my best friend was in some of them.

I counted the years. It had been five years.

I looked around the hall. Most of the guests were our mutual acquaintances.

As for the bridesmaid’s group, they were all my closest friends.

So, everyone knew that Andy was never some sort of low-level employee at the company. They all knew that he would get married that day.

I did the math.

When Andy travelled abroad with Sophia Brandt, I had nearly drunk myself sick at a business dinner while working on a project.

When they were taking their once-in-a-lifetime wedding photos, I had worked nonstop at the office for weeks and nearly pushed myself to the brink.

Yet, not a single person had told me about all these.

I could imagine the looks on their faces. To my face, they had probably acted concerned about how hard I was working, only to turn around and mock me behind my back for thinking I could ever measure up.

While I had agonized over whether to buy a discounted twenty-dollar dress, a single pearl on Sophia’s wedding gown already cost more than two thousand dollars.

Even their wedding favors cost over ten thousand dollars. Yet, Andy had constantly pretended to be broke whenever he was around me.

The more I remembered, the more unbearable the pain became.

When the bride and groom came down to make their rounds and toast the guests, Andy finally noticed me.

His expression finally changed a little. Meanwhile, Sophia stared at me in puzzlement.

“Who’s she?”

Andy said in a lackadaisical manner, “A college friend.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

But he only fixed his gaze on Sophia.

Sophia smiled as she clinked her glass against mine. “Since you’re Andy’s college friend, you should have another drink. Thank you for coming today.”

I could not help but laugh bitterly. After ten years together, Andy did not even bother to acknowledge who I really was.

My phone chimed. It was Andy’s message.

[I’ll explain everything later. Just behave yourself for the next few days.]

The next second, a nondisclosure agreement landed in my inbox.

The gist of it was simple: if I interfered with his marriage to Sophia, I would be liable for an enormous amount in damages.

But what terrified me most was the fact that I had already signed my name in the agreement.