I had been waiting for five years. My boyfriend had finally completed his assignment and retired from the special forces, ready to come back and marry me. But then I discovered thirty-six letters among his possessions. These letters were written before he embarked on his overseas missions, filled with longing for the person he truly loved—and that person wasn't me.

Clutching the pregnancy test report, my heart shattered as I arrived at the peak of the snowy mountain, only to see Vincent, always so proud, kneeling before Arabella Ortiz.

"Arabella, please give me a chance to make things right. If you're willing, I'll marry you immediately," he pleaded passionately, his voice full of desperation.

I tore the pregnancy report to pieces and let them flutter across the snowy peaks, deciding to leave. But on the day of the wedding, everything spiraled out of control.

On the summit of the mountain, at an altitude of 15,354 feet, I stood among the crowd, witnessing the proposal of my boyfriend of seven years. The usually reserved Vincent knelt on one knee, offering a diamond ring, and the scene overlapped with the one I had imagined he would promise me.

"Arabella, during these five years apart, I've thought of you every day. Will you marry me?" he implored, "Do it for the sake of our child."

Amid the piercing cheers of the onlookers, Arabella slowly extended her left hand, and the ring I had longed for was placed on her finger. Vincent stood up, trembled, and embraced Arabella, kissing her as if she were the most precious treasure.

I clenched the crumpled pregnancy test report, feeling as if a dagger had pierced my heart. I turned away, tearing the report into shreds and letting it drift down the mountain.

Five years ago, Vincent had told me he had been chosen by the organization to carry out a mission in the war-torn country of Afghanistan. Kneeling before me, he implored, "Evelynn, wait for me, will you? Once the mission is over, I'll come back and marry you."

Because of that promise, I waited for him a full five years, refusing the advances of any other man. But now, my five years and the child in my womb had become a mockery.

On my way down the mountain, I encountered Vincent and Arabella again. Arabella, touching her belly, was furious, "Vincent, after what Evelynn did to me, you need to get revenge for me!"

Vincent chuckled, "How would you like to get revenge?"

"If you really want to marry me, call off the wedding with her."

I limped away, nursing my swollen, painful foot, hiding nearby to hear Vincent's answer. After knowing him for ten years, he had always been the epitome of justice and integrity.

I was curious to see how he would choose between morals and Arabella.

"Okay, I agree," came Vincent's cold voice.

Blood seemed to freeze in my veins.

Arabella laughed, falling into his embrace, "Really? Aren't you afraid she'll get mad?"

Vincent affectionately tweaked her nose, "Even if she's upset, I once risked my life to save her. If it weren't for me, she would have been long gone."

"A runaway bride is nothing; she won't mind."

Suddenly, my leg throbbed painfully. An old injury plagued my right leg, causing intense pain in cold weather or rainy seasons. But to hear Vincent's explanation firsthand, I dragged that injured leg up the mountain for over 13,000 feet.

My hometown was in the plains, and combined with altitude sickness, I felt incredibly unwell. But still, I stubbornly sought an answer.

I took a deep breath, tried to suppress the pain in my heart, and dialed a number.

"Hi, Mom, I miss you. Can I come to see you?"

There was a long pause on the other end before my mom responded quickly, "Of course, Evelynn, your room's always ready for you."

"But—" she hesitated, "aren't you just about to marry Vincent? What about the wedding?"

I hesitated; Vincent was my savior, and I didn't want to tell my mom about his affair, fearing she wouldn't handle it well. So I lied, "No rush; weddings are complicated, and we aren't ready yet. Besides, it's been so long since we've seen each other; don't you miss me?"

"Miss you, miss you!" my mom said joyfully, "Your mother will be waiting for you."

I hung up, remembering these seven years and cursing myself for being so foolish. Were it not for the thirty-six love letters Vincent wrote to Arabella, I might still think I'd won.

On my way to the mountain, I kept telling myself it was a mistake, just a misunderstanding. After all, he had loved me enough to nearly sacrifice his life. How could he betray me?

Not until I saw Vincent propose to Arabella, who had nearly destroyed my family. He even insulted me publicly for her.

Confused and pained by my injured leg, I didn't notice my misstep and rolled down the mountain. At that moment, I received a call from Vincent.

"Evelynn, I'll be home late tonight; you—" Vincent paused. In the next moment, his voice was urgent, "Evelynn, what's that noise? Where are you?"

I lay on the cold, icy ground, clutching my stomach in agony.

Vincent's panic escalated when I didn't respond. "Please talk to me, Evelynn!"

My voice trembled. "I... I fell off the mountain peak."

"What mountain?"

"The Alps."

Vincent fell silent.

After a long pause, he asked, "Evelynn, what brought you to the Alps all of a sudden?"

His words were filled with an undeniable guilt.

I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes full of sarcasm.

"Because five years ago, you promised to propose to me at the summit. Now that you're back, I thought I'd get acquainted with the place."

"I understand."

Vincent let out a barely audible sigh of relief and quickly said, "Eve, hold tight. I'm on my way."

By the time Vincent arrived with Arabella, I'd been taken to the emergency center at the base of the mountain by some kind-hearted locals.

Lying in the hospital bed, I stared at Arabella, who was hiding behind Vincent. She pretended to be clueless and asked, "Why is she here?"

Vincent didn't bother to keep up the pretense.

With some guilt, Vincent said, "We ran into each other. She heard you were in trouble and wanted to come with me to see you."

I scoffed and pointed toward the window—the direction of the cemetery where heroes rest.

"My brother is still buried there; why does she have any business being here?"

Arabella's eyes welled up with tears upon hearing this. She clung to Vincent's sleeve, her voice laden with distress. "Vincent."

Vincent patted her hand reassuringly before turning to reprimand me with self-righteous indignation, "Evelynn, Arabella came here out of kindness, and you're being so confrontational. Is this what your parents taught you? You should apologize."

Arabella softly sobbed, "Evelynn, I know you've always held a grudge for what happened six years ago. I not only caused your brother's death but also left you with a lifelong disability in your right leg."

"But I've always regretted it; I truly know I was wrong. Please, for the sake of our past friendship, forgive me, won't you?"

Vincent watched Arabella's tears with protective tenderness, ready to wipe them away. But when his gaze met mine, he hesitated, lowering his hand.

Seeing my indifference, he gestured to me, silently pleading for a reaction.

"Hah."

I snorted lightly, looking at Vincent.

Even though I knew he had betrayed me, my eyes still reddened. "Do you think I should forgive her?"

Vincent sighed, "Evelynn, Arabella indeed made mistakes back then, but she was just briefly caught in a bad moment. She's not primarily responsible."

Briefly caught in a bad moment? Really?

I found my own naivety laughable.

Back then, her father wanted to marry her off to an old bachelor. I felt sorry for her and convinced my parents to take her in.

My family treated her like one of their own, with no favoritism. She enjoyed everything I did.

Yet she betrayed us and colluded with criminals, selling out my brother.

My brother was an undercover cop, gathering evidence inside a criminal network six years ago.

Just when he was about to complete the mission and close in, his cover was suddenly blown.

It turned out Arabella overheard my brother's conversation with his superior and sold it to the criminals for ten thousand dollars.

She wanted the money because she thought she wasn't attractive enough and wanted cosmetic surgery.

Because of the leaked information, our entire family became targets for the criminals.

My brother sacrificed himself to protect me and was blown to pieces by a bomb.

I barely survived, but my right foot was left disabled, and even walking caused a noticeable limp.

Thinking of this, I pushed his hand away, my eyes filled with a sense of unfamiliarity as if I'd never truly known him.

"Vincent, your family didn't die; your right foot isn't disabled. What gives you the right to ask me to forgive her?"

"She didn't do it directly, but if it weren't for her, none of this would have happened."

When I was kidnapped by criminals, Vincent did risk his life to save me.

At seventeen, he fought with them and lay in the ICU for seven days before recovering.

But I can't keep excusing him just because he once saved me.

Vincent's expression darkened, his anger flaring at my unfamiliar gaze.

"Evelynn, you share the blame for Arabella's mistakes."

"You helped her, but flaunted your wealth without considering her pride, driving her to act out."

"When she was broke, you just handed her money. You should've helped her quietly, preserving her dignity."

"If you'd been more considerate of Arabella's feelings back then, would things have turned out this way?"

Tears brimmed in Arabella's eyes as she defiantly glared at me, hidden from Vincent's view. She discreetly flipped the middle finger towards the direction of my brother's burial place.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. Grabbing the water glass on the table, I hurled it at them.

"Get out! All of you!"