Backstage at the opera house, Clarissa sat in front of her dressing mirror. The reflection showed a woman in a deep emerald velvet gown, skin pale as porcelain, makeup flawless. But only she knew-underneath all that perfection was a heart completely falling apart.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, hands pointing to thirty minutes before showtime.

Sebastian still hadn't shown up.

She kept lighting up her phone screen, only to watch it dim again, over and over.

The last message she sent him was yesterday-show details and seat number.

No reply. Nothing. Like she'd dropped a stone into water that didn't even ripple.

"Clarissa, how you holding up?" her assistant peeked in, voice cautious.

Everyone in the team understood this concert wasn't just another milestone in her career-it was also a hopeful witness to the love she'd fought for six years.

Clarissa pulled on a practiced smile. "All good. Just need to get in the zone."

She stood, took her skirt gently in hand, and walked toward the restroom-needing space from that dressing room filled with piled-up hopes and silent waiting.

The backstage restroom was lavish and softly lit.

Just as she reached the door, voices floated out that made her freeze.

"Did you see that trending topic? Sebastian actually went to the airport today to pick up Aria. Full celebrity move."

"Can you blame him? That's Aria. If it weren't for that 'accident,' she would've been Perry's student by now. Clarissa could never compare."

"Exactly! She basically butted into someone else's relationship and still has the nerve to play the loyal girlfriend for six years? Gimme a break. No matter how good her violin is, trash personality ruins everything."

Clarissa's fingers tensed on the doorknob-just a twitch. Then she opened the door with a calm, steady push.

Thud-

The soft thump echoed as the door hit the stopper. The two women inside, touching up their makeup, turned sharply. Their faces went rigid the second they saw who was standing there.

Clarissa stepped in without a word, her steps even. She flicked on the faucet at the sink and held her hands under the cold stream, letting the water drown her nerves.

In the mirror, her eyes met theirs-awkward, frozen.

"Gossiping about someone else's love life. Sounds fun?"

One of them flushed, scrambling, "We didn't mean-"

Clarissa turned off the tap, pulled a tissue, and dabbed her hands slowly. Then she turned around, calm and poised, lips curled in a faint, unreadable smile.

"Just to set the record straight-I've never, not once, gotten between anyone's relationship. Not in the past, not now, not ever."

She tipped her chin a little higher. "And for the record, I'm here tonight with a solo violin performance at this opera house not because of anyone else-but because I earned it. Every show, every note, every hour of practice. That's what brought me here-nothing else."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the two women and lingering just briefly-it looked calm, almost indifferent, yet somehow made them feel this invisible pressure that had them glancing away without realizing it.

"Just standing here is more than enough proof of what I'm capable of. I don't need your approval-or anyone else's-to define my worth."

With that, she stopped paying them any attention. She tossed the crumpled tissue into the nearby trash can with precision, turned around, lifted her dress slightly, and walked out of the restroom with her head held high.

Inside, the two women exchanged looks, their faces alternating between flushed and pale. It took a few moments of awkward silence before the sharper-voiced one finally mumbled under her breath, clearly not over it, "What's with her attitude? So what if she's good? She chased after Sebastian for six years and he still won't give her the time of day. Ran off to pick up his little goddess without even hesitating. Hmph."

But Clarissa? She was already out of earshot.

Or rather, even if she had heard them, it wouldn't have made the slightest dent in her heart anymore.

In the hallway, the lights stretched her shadow long across the floor.

She leaned back against the chilly wall, all of that calm front she'd put on crumbling in seconds, leaving behind nothing but bone-deep exhaustion.

She pulled out her phone, fingers trembling slightly, and used the last of her emotional strength to dial that all-too-familiar number.

The line rang for a long time before it finally connected.

"Yeah?" Sebastian's voice came through, drowned a bit by noisy background sounds, and there was the faintest trace of impatience buried in his tone.

Clarissa's heart dropped. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep her voice steady. "Hey... the concert's about to start. Where are you?"

There was a short pause. Then, a sugary-sweet voice cut in, smooth and flirtatious, loud enough to carry clearly through the phone.

"Sebastian~ I told you I could just take a cab! You're so busy with all your work stuff-why come pick me up yourself? You're totally wasting your time..."

It was Aria.

The moment her voice slipped through the speaker, it twisted around Clarissa's throat like silk thread-thin, soft, and suffocating.

Her mouth opened, trying to say something, anything-

But he didn't even let her.

"I've got something going on here. Can't get away." Sebastian cut her off, voice detached and half-hearted.

Before she could get another word in, he simply hung up.

Beeep-beeep-beeep-

Clarissa just stood there, unmoving, her phone still in hand.

After a long moment, she finally lifted her head, pulled in a shaky breath, and slowly let it out. Then, with her back ramrod straight like a soldier marching into battle, she headed to the dressing room.

*****

The concert hall was packed.

The lights dimmed, leaving one spotlight focused dead center on the stage. There stood Clarissa, holding the violin that had been with her for years, bathed in that single glow.

She closed her eyes. Every emotion-six years of love, longing, disappointment, stubborn hope, and now, this unbearable chill and heartbreak-poured into her grip on that instrument.

Bach's Chaconne flowed from her fingers. At times mournful and heavy, at others fierce and desperate. Her playing wasn't about impressing anyone tonight-it was her rawest feelings, her soul speaking out loud.

The audience forgot to even breathe. They sat there, completely gripped by the fierce, living music filling the room.

When the final note drifted into silence in the hall, a few seconds of stillness reigned-then, a wave of cheers exploded, thunderous and unending.

Fellow musicians, critics, and audience members surged forward, surrounding her with praise and congratulations.

"Miss Beckett, congrats! That was amazing!"

"I swear, that's the most moving version of Chaconne I've heard in years!"

"You totally deserve the title of the best among the younger generation!"

Flashes kept popping like fireworks, while Clarissa wore a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

But then, someone in the crowd blurted out, hesitantly but loud enough: "Wait... did Sebastian really go to the airport to pick up Aria? Isn't he dating Clarissa? Why does he look so close to Aria?"

The room seemed to freeze.

All eyes turned to her in an instant.

After all, who didn't know she had chased after Sebastian for six years?

That buzz of celebration quickly faded, leaving only an awkward silence. People started to drift away, until she was left standing alone backstage, like a statue slowly losing warmth.

She slowly pulled out her phone and tapped on the news notification she'd been avoiding all day.

A high-res photo filled the screen-VIP terminal, blurred background of passersby. In sharp focus were Sebastian holding a huge bouquet of gorgeous red roses, smiling up at Aria.

Aria was beaming, eyes sparkling with joy. One hand was lightly covering her lips, her expression full of smug delight.

So, the "something going on" he mentioned-it was this.

It hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest. Her whole body ached, and she stumbled, tears stinging her eyes out of nowhere.

Her phone rang suddenly. "Natalie Harris" flashing on the screen.

She picked up, and before she could say a word, Natalie's voice exploded in her ear-furious.

"Clarissa! Did you see the freaking news?! That jerk Sebastian ditched your big night to fetch that two-faced witch Aria from the airport! What the hell is wrong with him?! You've given him six damn years! Six! For this crap? He's not worth it! Trash. Absolute trash!"

While listening to her friend fuming on the other end, the wall she'd been holding up inside finally cracked.

She leaned back against the cold backstage wall, slowly sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. Her deep green dress pooled around her like a wilted bloom.

She didn't cry. But her voice trembled just a little, rough around the edges. "Natalie... don't. I promised Mom I'd marry him. I have to be accepted by the Hamiltons..."

Her voice was soft, almost brittle. "That was her final wish."

There was silence on the other end-only the sound of deep, heavy breathing.

Clarissa looked up at the ceiling lights above, sterile and cold. "I'll give him one more chance. If he doesn't show up tomorrow... then I'm done."

7 a.m., the sky was still dim, with a thin mist hanging over the city.

Clarissa stood in front of the full-length mirror in her walk-in closet. She was dressed in a pearl-white dress she'd picked with care-simple cut, delicate lace at the neckline that highlighted her long neck and softened features.

This was the dress she'd pictured over and over for what she believed would be the most important day of her life.

Her phone screen stayed lit, still on the chat with Sebastian.

[9 a.m. this morning. Marriage Registration Center.]

Half an hour later, he'd finally replied with a cold, lifeless message:

[Okay]

Just that. Not even a period.

But that one word-it was like someone had struck a tiny match inside the barren wreckage of her heart, lighting up the faintest trace of hope.

Did he really agree?

Maybe the proposal at the airport last night that went viral online was all fake news, or maybe... there was more to it?

A jumble of chaotic thoughts swirled through her head. Her hand holding the phone trembled slightly.

She took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, forcing a smile. But her reflection stared back with empty eyes, and the smile on her lips looked more like she was about to cry.

"Clarissa, this is the path you chose. Whatever happens, no regrets," she whispered to herself.

Grabbing her purse, she double-checked her ID and other important materials over and over. Then, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she turned and walked out of the apartment.

*****

Marriage Registration Center.

It was just past 8:50 a.m., and the waiting hall was already filled with couples.

Compared to the bright smiles and barely-contained excitement on everyone else's faces, Clarissa sat alone in a corner, looking completely out of place.

She glanced quickly at the digital clock on the wall.

9 a.m. sharp.

No sign of him.

She tried to calm herself-maybe traffic. He's always punctual, he wouldn't be late.

9:10 a.m.

People kept coming in and out, but still, not that familiar, stiff figure.

A young couple nearby just finished their registration, happily walking away.

9:20 a.m.

Seats around her filled up, emptied again as numbers were called. And Clarissa? Still there, like some forgotten statue in the corner.

She kept checking her phone. Screen off, then instantly tapped back on. Again and again. No missed calls. No messages. The chat still stuck on that lonely little [Okay].

"Hey, look at that girl. She's been sitting there by herself forever..."

"Is she waiting for her boyfriend? Kinda late already, huh?"

"She looks all dressed up too. Was she... ghosted? Jeez, poor thing..."

"Shh, keep it down. What if she hears us..."Those scattered whispers and barely concealed pitying looks were eating away at her nerves, one after another.

It was already 9:30.

A full thirty minutes late.

Clarissa just couldn't hold it together anymore. She abruptly stood up and walked toward a quieter spot at the end of the hallway. Her fingers were shaking uncontrollably as she dialed Sebastian's number.

"Beeep... beeep..."

The phone kept ringing without anyone picking up. Just as she was about to hang up, a new message popped up.

From him.

No apology, no explanation-just several cold words: [Can't come today.]

That was it. Her last thread of hope snapped with a quiet, brutal finality.

He didn't forget.

He knew they were supposed to get the marriage certificate today.

He just... couldn't be bothered to come.

Her phone suddenly buzzed again. It was Natalie calling.

She answered out of reflex. Before she could say a word, Natalie's voice came through, angry and near tears:

"Clarissa! Where are you?! Have you checked Ins?! Sebastian just proposed to Aria!"

The call ended before she could respond. A second later, her chat with Natalie popped up - not a message, but a photo and a link.

Her fingers were stiff, numb, but they moved anyway. She tapped on the image first-

Clear blue skies, a golden beach, and crashing white waves in the background. Centered in the frame: Sebastian, holding Aria tightly. They were kissing like the whole world had disappeared. Sunlight washed over them like something out of a movie.

Aria looked completely lost in happiness, while Sebastian-he had this soft, focused look on his face Clarissa had never seen before.

But that wasn't even the worst part. The link? It took her straight to his feed.

That same photo was right there, front and center.

The caption? Just four words. Four words that burned hotter than fire:

[Dreams do come true.]

So that was it.

His dream... never included Clarissa.

Her six years of waiting, of giving everything she had-what a joke.

She stood here today, dressed to impress, waiting for over an hour like some clueless fool... only to get hit with a casual "Can't come."

Scenes from the past started flashing rapidly through her mind.

He once said he liked women who could play the violin. So, she practiced like crazy.

Her palms grew hard with calluses, her shoulders ached so badly she couldn't lift her arms sometimes-but she never stopped.

All just to perform a full piece for his birthday. All for a chance at one compliment from him.

She thought if she just worked hard enough, became good enough, he'd finally notice her... finally love her.

Now she finally got it-it didn't matter how well she played the violin, how far ahead she was of Aria in the music world. In Sebastian's eyes, Aria had always been that delicate, untouchable dream girl he felt he needed to protect and wait for.

So what was she, Clarissa, then?

What were these six years worth?

Despair crashed over her like a freezing wave. But strangely enough, this time, no tears came. No breakdown either.

Just... shocking clarity. And a weird sense of relief.

She lowered her head, opened the pinned chat that had held its place at the top for six whole years, and slowly typed, [Sebastian, six years... I'm tired.]

[Starting today, I won't chase you anymore.]

[Hope you and Aria live happily ever after.]

No blame. No 'why's. Not even anger. Just closure.

She hit send.

And without hesitation, wiped him from her phone-deleted, blocked, gone.

Once that was done, she tossed her phone back into her bag, took a long breath, and stepped out of the Marriage Registration Center.

Outside, the sun was blinding. Cars and people moved all around. Noise everywhere.

She stood at the top of the steps, eyes squinting against the light, feeling lost-like she had no idea where to go next.

For six years, her whole world had revolved around Sebastian.

Now with that world gone, all that was left was a blank slate.

Her thoughts were still scrambled when, out of nowhere, her foot slipped on the edge of the step, and she pitched forward.

"Hey-watch out!"

A pair of strong arms caught her just in time, pulling her into a solid chest.

"Well well, Clarissa-still throwing yourself at me after all these years?"

Wide-eyed, she looked up and met a pair of amused, deep-set eyes.

The guy wore a sleek, tailored blazer that almost made him seem overdressed for daylight-tall, lean, and confident, with a casual swagger that stood out in the crowd.

There was a half-smile on his lips-like he enjoyed catching her off guard.

It was Elian Langley.

Back in school, he used to argue with her over math problems like they were solving world peace, but when she was shut out by everyone else, he'd silently drop answers on her desk, mumbling something like "don't want you flunking out."

Now, the awkwardness of youth was gone. In its place was something sharper, sexier.

If it had been old times, Clarissa would've snapped back by now.

But hearing that familiar voice, remembering the way she just cut ties minutes ago-her brain sparked with a wild, reckless thought.

Didn't Sebastian think she couldn't live without him? That she'd always be hanging around, tail wagging?

Great. Time to prove him dead wrong.

She took a small step forward and looked Elian straight in the eye.

"If you're not seeing anyone right now-"

She paused, watching his surprised brows lift, then said clearly, without backing down, "-would you marry me?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Clarissa instantly regretted it.

Had she lost her mind? How could she say something like that to Elian?

She opened her mouth, trying to backpedal, maybe throw in a "just kidding."

But then Elian's dark eyes fixed on her, a subtle smirk forming at the corner of his lips, and he said without missing a beat, "Sure."

Clarissa froze.

Then came Elian stepping closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over her. "But just to be clear, Clarissa-I'm not into fake marriages or those pretend arrangements. If we're doing this, then it's real. Real couple, all in, nothing less. You sure you've thought it through?"

Normally, she'd think that kind of talk was over-the-top. But right now, he was literally her only way out.

She met his gaze head-on and responded firmly, "Yeah. I've thought it through."

"I'll give you a week to get ready. After that... we'll become husband and wife in every sense of the word. Do you agree?"

"I do."

When they walked out of the Marriage Registration Center, the sunlight was a bit too bright.

Clarissa stared down at the thin red booklet in her hand, still in a haze.

In the photo, Elian looked calm and confident. Her own smile barely held up, and her eyes screamed confusion.

So this was it? Married? And to Elian, of all people?

"Give it," Elian said, casually holding his hand out.

Out of reflex, Clarissa handed over hers too.

Elian didn't stop; he took them both. She blinked in confusion as he waved the little red booklets a bit, that usual faint smirk on his lips. "I'll keep them. You're too forgetful, might end up losing yours."

Before she could say a word, he already had his phone out and snapped a pic of the two certificates side by side. His fingers tapped away quickly on the screen.

"What're you doing?" Clarissa suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Posting it on my feed." Elian didn't even look up. "We're married now. Gotta make it official, kill off any lingering hopes from others."

There was a clear undertone in his voice. He finished uploading the photo and turned his phone so she could see.

It was their red marriage booklets, front and center. Caption was simple: [Couldn't be luckier to call you mine, Mrs. Langley. @Clarissa Beckett]

That "Mrs. Langley" hit her like a shockwave, rushing through her limbs with a buzz. Her heart skipped a beat, and her face flushed uncontrollably.

Then Elian's arm casually wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her gently into his side.

Clarissa stiffened immediately, instinctively trying to pull away. The closeness was too much, too sudden-his scent, the pressure-it all messed with her heartbeat and scrambled her sense of direction.

Elian felt the resistance and tightened his arm slightly. "What are you dodging for? We've signed the papers, it's on the internet now-everyone knows you're my wife. What, getting cold feet already?"

He paused, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down her spine. "Even if you are, it's too late now."

"I'm not regretting it." Clarissa looked into his deep eyes-eyes so intense it felt like they were pulling her in. She took a breath, forcing herself to sound calm. "I'm just... not used to this yet."

"I'm not really someone who's good with that whole physical closeness thing. And besides, we were never exactly..."

"Guess it's because things between us haven't exactly been... smooth. So yeah, kinda hard to just jump into the whole married-couple thing right away." She paused for a second, like she was pushing herself to get real, then looked up at him with clear, steady eyes.

"I'll admit it-when I asked you to marry me, part of it was out of spite. I had this dumb urge to slap certain people in the face with it. That was immature, and I'm sorry. But I'm serious now. I'll try to get used to this... whatever normal married life is supposed to look like."

She meant every word.

From the moment they walked out of the Marriage Registration Center, whatever leftover feelings she had for Sebastian were completely gone.

She'd made a decision, and she wasn't about to look back.

Elian listened in silence. The stiff edge in his expression softened, replaced by the faintest trace of a smile.

"Good," he said, letting go of her arm-and just when Clarissa thought he was backing off, he reached down and casually laced his fingers with hers. His palm was warm, firm, and very, very real.

"Since my dear Mrs. Langley is all in now, how about we head home and pack up?"

With her hand still in his, Clarissa blinked. "Pack up? Why?"

"To move in together, of course! You're my wife now-how could we still be living apart?"

His matter-of-fact tone, his unshakeable confidence, it suddenly made Clarissa's heart clench in a weird, unfamiliar way-like something long missing had quietly filled a gap she didn't even realize was there.

During six years with Sebastian, she'd never once felt anything even close.

She'd wasted the best part of her youth on someone who never really saw her. Foolish didn't even begin to cover it.

She slid into the front passenger seat of Elian's black Bentley and gave him the address to her place.

Elian started the engine, merging smoothly into traffic. After a moment of silence, he spoke-eyes still on the road-and casually recited her full address. Right down to her unit number. And the door code.

Clarissa snapped her head toward him, completely stunned. "Wait-how do you know that?!"

Even her family didn't have that level of detail. No one did.

Elian's lips tugged up, that amused smirk of his dancing at the corners. When the red light ahead forced him to stop, he took his foot off the brake, unlatched his seatbelt, and leaned in toward her-close.

His scent hit her all at once, crisp and clean with a faint undertone of cedar, wrapping her up entirely.

His face was right there-so close she could count his lashes, trace the perfect line of his nose. She could feel his breath on her cheek, light but hot enough to burn.

Clarissa froze, pressing back against the leather seat, barely daring to breathe. Her pulse was thundering, her skin flushing fast-ears, neck, everything.

Elian clearly enjoyed the reaction. The look in his eyes turned downright mischievous, and he reached out to lightly tap her nose with his fingertip-like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Because I've had my eye on you for a while now, Mrs. Langley."

"Why else do you think I'd say yes to such a sudden proposal?"

The words hit her like a cannonball, shattering the calm surface of her heart with waves of chaos.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and trying to process.

He... He already liked her?

Since when?

How was that even possible?