The day before the wedding, the extravagant custom-made Victorian-style dress my husband ordered finally arrived.

I gently touched my slightly rounded belly and asked him for a divorce.

Colton's secretary called, her voice trembling as she explained, "Mrs. Carpenter, this is all my fault. I misunderstood your preferences. Please, don't blame Mr. Thompson."

Colton's calming voice came through the phone, leaving me with just one sentence: "Don't regret this."

I packed my things and left without a backward glance.

After gathering my belongings, I was ready to leave, dragging my suitcase behind me, when I ran into Colton just coming home.

He saw the suitcase in my hand and furrowed his brow, his voice cold and detached.

"Mina, you're still upset? I don't have time for this drama."

Such a harsh, cold tone might have been expected for reprimanding an employee. Once, when I'd throw a minor fit, Colton would hold me patiently, explaining things until I calmed down. Now, he merely dismisses me with a phrase. But this time, I'm serious.

I looked at him steadily. "Colton, let's find some time to get a divorce."

Colton tugged at his tie in frustration, thinking I was just bluffing.

"Johanna didn't know you disliked a white wedding dress. Can't you just put up with it for tomorrow?"

Johanna was barely in her twenties, fresh out of school, serving as Colton's personal secretary. Personal in what way? They were inseparable.

It was even joked in the industry that if Colton was around, Johanna would be within three steps of him. She even had a say in selecting the wedding dress, something I, as his legitimate wife, didn't get to do. So much so, I only learned the day before the wedding that the dress was that abhorrent shade of white.

I don't blame Johanna for choosing this style; after all, most people would assume wedding dresses should be white. But Colton was supposed to remember his promise from years ago. Clearly, he had forgotten.

This wedding need not happen.

Seeing me still clutching the suitcase, refusing to let go, Colton's frustration grew visibly.

"Where can you go while pregnant?"

"Besides, you're not a kid like Johanna, pulling a runaway stunt at your age — aren't you embarrassed?"

Even though I'd decided on divorce, my nails dug deeply into my palm. It wasn't the first time I'd heard such words.

When Johanna had just joined the company, Colton often lamented to me about how careless and troublesome she was, sending the wrong files, losing documents... He even wondered why he'd hired her. Back then, I'd speak in Johanna's defense, assuring him she was just a fresh graduate facing the inevitable struggles of starting her career.

But somewhere along the way, everything changed.

When Johanna called in tears, saying she was being followed and was scared, the man who complained about her nuisance did not hesitate to grab his car keys and rush out, leaving me with only the sight of his hurried back.

A woman's intuition is rarely wrong.

Their unusual superior-subordinate dynamic became intolerable to me.

I asked Colton to transfer Johanna from her secretary position, and for the first time ever, he lost his temper with me. He said since I didn't understand the company's operations, I should refrain from interfering.

Perhaps realizing his attitude was too harsh, he softened his tone, promising to distance himself from Johanna.

But there are no secrets that remain impenetrable.

When the rumors reached me, in the eyes of outsiders, Johanna seemed like Colton's cherished partner — no one knew that there was me, the forgotten wife at home.

When I broke down and confronted him, Colton, with that indifferent expression, accused me.

"Johanna's just a young girl, clueless about everything. I'm merely teaching her — why bother competing with someone so much younger?"

"You're bored at home; that's why you're overly sensitive."

That sentence pierced my heart deeply.

Afterward, I stopped the arguments and ceased dwelling on his relationship with Johanna.

Colton assumed I'd come to my senses.

But I alone knew that the barriers I'd built around my heart for him were crumbling, layer by layer.

Fighting to suppress the tears welling up, my hands slightly trembling while clutching the suitcase.

"Colton, from your perspective, no matter what I do now, I don't deserve it, right? Not the right to be angry, nor the right to dislike something."

I looked up at the man I'd loved for seven years.

From twenty-two to twenty-nine, time seemed to have left no mark on him, merely adding to his allure as a mature man.

Colton seemingly unchanged in the slightest.

But I knew everything was different from seven years ago.

"Now, I don't want to be the older woman you dismiss. I want to be Mina again."

"Let's call off the wedding tomorrow and find time to get divorced."

With that, I turned and left, dragging the suitcase behind me.

Colton was enraged by my words, and the sound of things smashing echoed behind me.

"Fine! Don't regret this. I'd like to see who would still want you pregnant!"

Despite the heaviness in my heart, my steps didn't falter as I walked away from seven years of confinement with belongings that truly belonged to me.

On the street, a couple approached, sharing a single ice cream cone, the girl beaming with happiness, the boy's eyes brimming with tenderness and affection. Watching them brought tears to my eyes.

Weren't Colton and I like that once, back in our early twenties?

Our first encounter was one of those familiar tales—he was the hero who saved me. I was working part-time as a waitress to cover my living expenses when a customer got too handsy. My cries for help were ignored by the manager, who even forbade anyone from stepping in. Just as I mustered the courage to swing a bottle at the man's head, someone else did.

That someone was Colton.

He protected me like a guardian angel, assuring me with a smile, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

It was my first taste of being shielded by someone.

I knew who Colton was—a celebrated scholar at the university and the son of a wealthy family, whereas I was a poor girl, shunned by my father and orphaned by my mother. I kept my feelings of admiration to myself.

Unexpectedly, after that day, Colton took me under his wing. Nobody bothered me anymore, and he even came to pick me up from work every day.

Despite reminding myself that Colton and I came from different worlds and wouldn’t end well, I yearned desperately for love.

After my mother passed, I lived alone for eight years, accompanied only by the endless nights and solitude.

So naturally, we ended up together.

I once confided in Colton that when I was twelve, my father had an affair and wanted to divorce my mother. She refused, so he moved out, lived with his mistress, and divorced two years later. On the day of my father's wedding to his mistress, my mother wore her bridal gown again and jumped from the twentieth floor.

Her blood stained the white dress a horrifying red.

I watched her die right before my eyes; it’s something I’ll never forget.

That’s why I swore my wedding dress would never be white.

If the dress was white, I’d know Colton didn’t really want to marry me, and I would leave on my own.

“I’ll always remember; you’ll be my only bride,” Colton, at 22, tightly embraced me, promising.

Knowing my background, Colton's family would never approve of me as their daughter-in-law, so I worked even harder. I opened a small studio, taking on every project, earning as much as I could.

Yet, to Colton’s family, I remained beneath them, a lowly orphan without parents.

Watching Colton, a privileged soul, humbly bow to them, begging for their acceptance of me, I swallowed every indignity without complaint.

Even though Colton's persistence led us to register our marriage, his family still didn’t acknowledge me, refusing us a wedding and demanding I give up my career to care for him.

For the sake of love, I dissolved my thriving studio to become a full-time wife.

Only this year, with my pregnancy, did my relationship with Colton’s family ease, and they finally allowed us to plan a wedding.

Every woman dreams of her own wedding.

Seven years, and I thought I had finally endured until I’d reached the end.

But just as my dream was about to come true, it crumbled.

Seven years ago, I should have realized Colton and I were never meant to be.

In the end, I returned to the lonely home I once knew.

I remember leaving it seven years ago, full of hope that someone would be there during the long, dark nights.

But after all the wandering, it was still just me, alone.