Tear the Gown, Crush the Groom

Today is my wedding day. I woke up at five in the morning. My fingertips traced the lace edges of the wedding dress, the custom piece I'd waited six months for. Pearls were sewn along the hem, like stars scattered across the sea. The makeup artist arrived right at seven. As the foundation brush swept across my cheeks, I kept wondering what my fiance Brendan Romano's face would look like when he saw me—he always said I looked best in white. At ten-thirty, the bridesmaid suddenly screamed, "Where's the wedding dress? The closet's empty!" My heart sank. Barefoot, I ran to the dressing room. The wedding dress that had been hanging there was gone—only an empty hanger remained. At that moment, my cell phone rang. It was Brendan. As soon as I answered, I heard his urgent voice: "Eva, Mila's in trouble. She ran off wearing your wedding dress. She's by the river, crying, saying she's going to jump." My hand holding the cell phone trembled as I asked, "What about my wedding dress... our wedding?" Brendan cut me off, "Forget about the wedding for now! Mila's going crazy now—I have to go see her first." Before I could say another word, the call ended. I stood alone in the empty dressing room, sunlight pouring through the window, scattered on the floor like shards of glass. The bridesmaid handed me a coat and asked, "Miss Black, what should we do? The guests are almost here." I shook my head, unable to say a single word. Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind from three months ago: that day in the house that Mila Marley, Brendan, and I rented together—the water pipe burst, and Mila "accidentally" spilled water on my computer. Just as I was about to speak, Brendan stepped in front of her and said, "Eva, she didn't mean to, so don't be so harsh." Mila lowered her head, twisting the corner of her shirt nervously, and said, "Eva, I'm sorry. How about I make it up to you with a new computer?" I saw the frown crease Brendan's brow and swallowed the rest of my words. And just last month, I found out I was pregnant. When I went to the hospital for a checkup, I suddenly had abdominal pain and bleeding. The doctor said I needed an immediate uterine clearance. I called Brendan, but he told me Mila had acute appendicitis and he had to stay at the hospital with her. He said, "Eva, you'll have to handle this on your own for now. Mila can't handle this by herself." Lying on the operating table, before the anesthesia took effect, I heard the nurse whisper, "Why didn't your boyfriend come? This is such a big deal." I kept my eyes closed, tears streaming down from the corners of my eyes. Looking back now, those so-called accidents were never accidents. Mila always said she had no family and she treated Brendan and me like family, but the way she looked at me hid something I couldn't understand. Brendan always said I was overthinking and that Mila was fragile and she needed care. It wasn't until today, when he chose to stay with Mila—the one who stole my wedding dress at my wedding, that I realized our three-person household was a twisted farce from the very start. I picked up my cell phone and sent a message to the MC: "The wedding is canceled." Then I walked over to the mirror, looked at the delicate makeup on my face, and wiped it off bit by bit, as if erasing all the hope I had placed in Brendan over the past two years.