Part 2The Wedding Dress I Never Got to Wear

Daniel looked at me with deep disappointment.

"It's just a dress," he snapped. "Do you really have to push Chloe to the brink of death to be happy?"

The groom and his bride were gone.

In an instant, the noisy reception hall emptied out, leaving only me behind.

I clutched a torn scrap of the wedding dress in my hands and frantically wiped away my tears.

I forced a weak smile to comfort myself.

‘It’s okay.’

Mom left behind her original design sketches before her car accident.

As long as I had the sketches, I could remake the dress.

I rushed back to our apartment as if grasping at a lifeline.

I headed straight for the closet. The sketches I had kept locked away were gone.

I searched like a madwoman, tearing the place apart.

Finally, I found an earring on the floor beside our bed.

It belonged to Chloe.

My hands shook violently as I called Daniel.

"Why is Chloe's earring in our bedroom?"

"Chloe is sick and needs someone to take care of her," Daniel said casually. "The apartment was sitting empty anyway..."

"Did she take my mother's design sketches?!" I interrupted, my voice cracking.

Daniel paused. His tone instantly chilled.

"What kind of attitude is that? You ruined Chloe's wedding, and now you're accusing her of stealing?

"Chloe is an art student. She thought your mother's designs were beautiful and asked if she could look at them. I gave them to her."

The last bit of strength drained from my body.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

"What right do you have to give away the only thing my mother left me...?"

Silence hung on the other end of the line.

Then, someone took the phone. Chloe’s sweet voice came through the speaker.

"Serena, Daniel said you have to pay for ruining my wedding."

She paused, sounding almost merciful.

"But I stood up for you. He said if you come to the hospital and apologize to me in front of everyone, he'll consider giving them back."

* * *

The moment I pushed open the hospital door, over a dozen pairs of eyes locked onto me.

They were all Chloe's close friends.

"I'm here," I said, staring straight at Daniel. "Give me back my mother's sketches."

"Hold on," Daniel said, stepping forward to block my path. "Apologize to Chloe first."

He frowned.

"Because you made a scene over that dress, Chloe has been crying non-stop. The doctor said her condition is worsening."

I lowered my gaze, about to open my mouth.

One of Chloe's friends shouted, "A simple apology isn't going to cut it! You ruined her dream wedding and made her condition worse!"

They pulled out their phones, pointing the cameras directly at my face.

"Unless you get on your knees, apologize properly, and admit you're a homewrecker," the friend sneered. "Swear that you'll never steal her boyfriend again.

“Otherwise, forget about getting those sketches back."

They passed my mother's delicate sketches around like trash.

Someone casually tossed them onto a table next to some grease-stained takeout boxes. Food crumbs smeared across the paper.

My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice.

My eyes burned as tears welled up once more.

I sank to my knees, facing Chloe.

"I am... a homewrecker..."

My voice was barely a whisper. "I promise... I'll never try to steal your boyfriend again..."

Camera flashes flickered nonstop. The shutter sounds echoed in my ears like gunfire.

I pressed my forehead to the floor three times.

"Can I have them back now?" I asked, my voice dry and raspy.

Daniel’s brows furrowed. Before he could speak, Chloe's friend let out a mock laugh.

"Look at her. She threw away all her self-respect just to hold onto Daniel's money. Kneels down the moment she's told to.

"If she cared about self-respect, she wouldn't have worked at that club," another one of her friends chimed in.

"Daniel rescued her from that dive back then. No wonder she's been desperate enough to stay his secret hookup for ten whole years."

The pain in my broken leg flared up intensely. I couldn't even go to the emergency room in time.

I collapsed on the cold tile floor, letting their cruel taunts hit me like slaps to the face.

I didn't notice the icy, murderous look in Daniel's eyes.

Suddenly, the door swung open. A nurse pushed a tray inside.

The moment she saw me, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Miss Evans? You're here?"

She checked her clipboard.

"The specialist you've been trying to book for the past six months is doing rounds today. A spot just freed up for you."

Daniel's body went tense. He looked down at me, his gaze suddenly sharp with suspicion.

"Why are you trying to see an oncology specialist?" he demanded. "Are you sick?”