A Dream Wedding, for Someone Else

For seven years, I'd loved Ethan, and for seven years, I'd waited in vain for his proposal.

Instead, at a wedding rehearsal run-through I was overseeing, I found my boyfriend walking down the aisle, the bride was on his arm.

Her fianc can't make it today, so I'm filling in. You're the expert at planning the wedding-make sure her day is perfect.

He smiled as he explained, but his eyes couldn't hide the flicker of longing and envy behind them.

And in the end, he even asked me to give her the wedding plan, I'd spent years polishing myself.

"We've got all the time in the world for ours. I promise I'll make yours even better. What's the harm in letting my client have this one?"

He had no idea that this wedding-every detail of it-had been five years of my blood, sweat, and tears.

Later, I did as he asked.

And then I waited alone, counting down the days left of my life.

Maybe those who witness happiness, are never meant to have it themselves.

After all, happiness is not a spectator sport.

*****

It was the last appointment of the day: a bride was here for her wedding rehearsal run-through.

"The client's here. Let's hope she finally approves a plan today."

Maya, my assistant, sighed.

This bride had been impossible to please-we'd drafted five different wedding plan concepts, and she'd rejected every single one.

I grabbed my tablet and walked over, only to freeze when I saw the couple smiling together on the stage.

"What... what is this?"

Maya clasped her hands to her chest, grinning.

"Honestly, they're the most gorgeous pair! No wonder she's so picky. If I ever married someone that handsome, I'd want the dress, the decor, everything to be perfect too!"

Our murmurs caught the couple's attention.

"Nina?"

The smile vanished from Ethan's face in an instant, his brows furrowing as a flash of panic crossed his eyes.

"What are you doing here? You said you'd be working late tonight."

The woman at his side clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening with fake tears.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault... I'll just go. I'm sorry for the trouble."

But Ethan grabbed her wrist, holding her back.

He murmured a few comforting words to her, then stepped toward me.

"I knew you'd misunderstand. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to be upset."

"This is Sophia, my college friend. Her fianc's now overseas and couldn't make it to the rehearsal, so she asked me as her fiance's stand in-we're about the same height."

My jaw tightened as I studied their faces, unsure if I could bring myself to believe him.

The woman stepped forward, her custom white wedding gown making her look like a pale water lily.

A single tear teetered on her cheek, feigning guilt.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea you two were together. When I asked him for help, he said you were such an independent, understanding person... I never meant to cause any trouble."

She bowed deeply, her shoulders shaking slightly.

I watched it all, my face indifferent.

Hmph.

Understanding person.

What sane person would be "understanding" about their boyfriend rehearsing a wedding with another woman?

As I stared at them, cold and unblinking, Ethan stepped in front of her, his voice sharp with irritation-at me.

"Why are you glaring at her? Blame her fianc. How could he skip the most important part of wedding prep and leave her waiting like this? I'll never understand it."

Ethan almost never lost his temper in public, let alone defend someone else at my expense.

But what stuck with me most was the fleeting look on his face: loss, and something like regret.

As the studio's top wedding planner, I had to keep professional and personal feelings separate.

So I stood there, helpless, and watched them walk down the T-stage together.

Again and again and again.

Until she was finally satisfied.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my chest, and I had to sit down, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

As my boyfriend left, he called over his shoulder, oblivious to my deathly pale face.

"She chose your studio because she trusts you. You're the best-make sure her wedding is unforgettable."

It was our seventh year together.

Seven years that turned me from a rookie wedding planner into one of the most sought-after in the business.

But Ethan and I?

We'd stayed stuck in the same place, trapped in the seven-year itch, our love stagnant and fading.

I finally finished work and stumbled home, collapsing on the couch for a moment's rest.

Then, suddenly, my phone rang-it was my mom.

"Hey honey, Christmas is coming. Is Ethan coming to the family gathering this year?"

"Nina, honey, it's been seven years. Your cousin's kid is almost in preschool! Tell me the truth-are you two having problems?"

I closed my eyes, my voice tight with exhaustion.

"We're fine. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Oh, I'd asked him.

I'd begged him, time and time again.

And every time, the answers were the same.

"You're overthinking it."

"I'm in the middle of a promotion. Just give me more time."

"Marriage should happen naturally, shouldn't it? You trust me, don't you?"

Ask again, and I'd be met with an impatient, tired stare.

So we'd dragged it out, years after years, until we hit seventh.

My mind raced, the same suffocating feeling from the afternoon wrapping around my chest.

But my mom rambled on, unrelenting.

"You'll be 29 years old next month. Don't you think we have a right to worry about your marriage? We just want you to be happy."

In that moment, I snapped.

All my pent-up frustration and grief came pouring out.

"Worrying won't change anything! You want to know when he'll propose? Go ask him yourself! I'm tired, I'm busy, I just want one second of peace!"

I gasped for air, my chest heaving.

The line went silent.

I frowned, my anger softening into guilt.

"I'm just really tired, Mom. I'll handle it, I promise. I'll call you back later."

I hung up and grabbed a bottle of calmness herbal pills from the table, popping a handful into my mouth.

Don't get angry, I told myself.

The doctor said it would make my condition worse.

I finished getting ready for bed, and a moment later, the front door clicked open.

Ethan walked in, carrying the suit he'd worn to the rehearsal.

"Why are you still up? I told you not to wait up if I'm late-busy season, remember?"

He leaned in to kiss me, but as he drew near, I caught a whiff of a sweet, floral perfume.

The same scent that had clung to Sophia earlier that day.

I turned my head, pulling away.

He thought I was being shy, chuckling as his hand slid down to my chest, his fingers brushing my skin.

A sharp cry escaped me as his palm pressed against a hard, tender lump.

He pulled back, confused, staring at his hand.

"Why is it so hard here?"

I swatted his hand away, cold sweat breaking out on my back.

"Don't... I'm not feeling well tonight."

Ethan's movements stilled, a sharp sound of annoyance escaping him.

He turned and walked to the bathroom, leaving me alone.

I picked up his shirt and the suit he'd worn earlier, pressing them to my nose.

The perfume lingered on both.

I swallowed the words I'd planned to say to him that night-words of frustration, of begging, of hope-and let them die in my throat.

It was my follow-up appointment with the doctor.

I'd just checked in when I saw a familiar figure.

Sophia smiled and waved, surprised to see me.

We exchanged a few awkward words, and then a man stepped out from behind her, two full grocery bags in his hands.

A man who was none other than my boyfriend, Ethan.

I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay steady.

"What a coincidence. Again."

I laughed, bitter and cold, as he spouted another excuse.

"You could've told her the hospital routine over the phone. You didn't have to bring her here in person to see your dermatologist friend."

"She wants her skin perfect for the wedding. She's never been to this hospital before-I just wanted to help. It's a small favor, Nina."

"Or is it that you're so insecure now that you get jealous over me being in the same room as another woman? You've changed, Nina."

The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife when Sophia stepped in, her voice soft and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Hale. I really meant to come alone. Ethan's just such a kind person-he worried I'd get lost. I promise I'll never bother you two again."

Ethan.

She called him by his first name, so casual, so intimate.

My heart twisted.

She turned to me, her eyes wide with fake concern.

"I hope this is too forward, but... why are you at the hospital today?"

A transparent attempt to change the subject, to defuse the tension.

Ethan's gaze flicked to me, curious.

"Another diet pill run? You know those things aren't good for you."

I forced a smile.

Diet pills were the last thing I needed.

But when I saw the faint worry in his eyes, I told him the truth.

"Breast hyperplasia. The doctor wants me to come in for regular check-ups."

Sophia nodded, dismissive.

"Oh, that's nothing. All women get that every now and then, right?"

Ethan's shoulders relaxed, his brows lifting as he glanced at the stack of scans in my hand.

"She's right. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"I'll head out then. I've got a meeting to get to."

I couldn't stop myself from calling after him as he turned to leave.

"You're already here. Can't you stay and wait for me? Just this once."

He checked his watch, his voice sharp with impatience.

"Nina, you didn't tell me I'd need to stay. I don't have time-I'm late for a meeting."

"I'll bring you your favorite honey egg tarts on the way home, okay? Be good."