He shocked me by replying instantly. [Serena, who do you think you are? You don’t get to break up with me!]
[Don’t forget, you’re filthy to begin with. I’ve used you for seven years for free. A woman like you—who’d want you after me? Even your own mother probably despises you!]
As expected, he had forgotten what today was.
Seven years ago, on this very day, he made me promise. Back then, he pulled me out of despair, telling me. "Seven years. That’s how long it takes for every cell in the body to regenerate—a complete renewal. I’ll be with you for those seven years. When you’ve let go of the past, let go of all those painful memories, we’ll get married."
But seven years passed in the blink of an eye, and he had long forgotten his vows.
It didn’t matter, though. Brandon was never my salvation. He was just a heartless opportunist who preyed on my vulnerability.
The seven years were over. The past, the hurt, and the illusions were now nothing but fleeting shadows.
I wiped away the last trace of tears, concealed them with makeup, and placed the veil over my head. Stepping into the wedding car, I was ready to leave it all behind.