Douglas and I had been together for seven years.

I'd finally waited for his proposal, and with tears in my eyes, I joyfully accepted.

But just a week before the wedding, I stumbled upon a secret folder on Douglas's computer.

Every file meticulously chronicled Douglas's life with another woman, complete with their newborn child. And that woman wasn't me. It was my sister.

Quietly, I booked a flight to leave the country on the day of the wedding.

When the wedding day arrived, the bride was nowhere to be found, and Douglas was frantically searching for me.

----------------------------------

"Novah, is that opportunity you mentioned still open?"

"I've changed my mind. I want to start a business with you."

Novah was my college roommate, and we were very close. Back in school, we vowed to achieve our dreams together.

Later, I broke that vow for Douglas, and Novah went abroad on her own. She always held it against me for choosing a man over our dreams.

When she heard about my change of heart, her voice on the phone shot up several octaves.

"Are you serious?"

"That's amazing! You were always the top of our class. With you on board, we'll make it happen for sure!"

"As women, we need to stand up for our careers! It's not worth giving up our dreams for some guy, honey!"

At her words, I replied with a smile, "Novah, you're absolutely right."

I only now realized the truth in what Novah had always told me.

"But if I remember correctly, aren't you supposed to marry Douglas in a week? If you're planning to come here, you'd better start packing, which would clash with your wedding, wouldn't it?"

I tugged at the corners of my mouth in exasperation and simply said to Novah, "The wedding's off."

As my best friend, Novah could probably hear the tremor in my voice and wanted to offer comfort.

Before she could, I made up an excuse to hang up the phone.

In front of me were videos, photos, hundreds of files on the computer screen.

With trembling hands, I copied all these files and shut the laptop with a snap.

Douglas and I had been together for seven years. Out of deep affection and to avoid a long-distance relationship, I chose to compromise.

I moved to his hometown in the countryside and started from scratch to help him build his business.

With Douglas having a sensitive stomach, I often stepped in for him, securing deal after deal.

During our time together, I rarely touched his personal belongings.

Douglas always said that even as a couple, we should give each other space.

The only reason I opened his computer tonight was because the wedding planner called, asking for our wedding plan.

Douglas had created the plan a while ago, holding me in one arm while meticulously considering every little detail with the other.

In all our time together, this was the first time I opened his computer.

Not knowing where Douglas had saved the wedding plan and unable to reach him by phone, I had no choice but to search for it myself.

Instead of finding the wedding plan, my eye caught a folder named "baby."

I thought it contained cherished memories of Douglas and me.

Feeling sentimental, I clicked inside, only to discover that the leading lady wasn't me.

Perhaps overwhelmed by the sudden shock, I forgot that in all our years together, Douglas had always addressed me by my full name.

He never referred to me with such an intimate term.

Nearly a hundred files, all about Aspen and their newborn child.

Aspen, my half-sister.

Douglas and I had grown up together, yet I couldn’t compete with something fate threw our way.

Each file in the folder was detailed, leaving nothing out. Every moment of Aspen and the baby's life was recorded, and the last file even mapped out a future for the three of them as a family.

In an instant, memories of the seven years I had spent with Douglas flooded my mind.

Douglas wasn't like everyone else's boyfriend.

In all our years together, not a single photo of us was taken.

He told me he hated taking photos. On every holiday and anniversary, I was the one who gave him gifts, but he scoffed at such formalities. I meticulously planned our trips, dinners, and dates, but he insisted they were a waste of time, better spent making money. Over the years, I've transitioned from complaining to gradually adapting and accepting. All along, it was only me who was changing and compromising.

This realization now fills my heart with unbearable pain. It's not that I couldn't change or compromise, but rather that I wasn't truly valued. During our seven years together, I often envied other women's boyfriends, convincing myself that Douglas just had a different way of showing love, and that he still cared for me. But now I question, was Douglas's love telling me not to disturb his sleep when I was upset? Was Douglas's idea of care advising me to drink more hot coffee when I was sick? Was his version of affection giving me roses—my least favorite flower—on every birthday?

I became numb to my self-delusions. The last time Douglas met with his friends visiting from abroad, he called me halfway through. I rushed to the restaurant, feeling a flutter of excitement; after all, this was the first time Douglas had invited me to meet his friends. But as I reached the entrance, I overheard their unguarded conversation.

"What? You're really getting married? I thought you didn't love her. Is this just to prove a point?"

Douglas's cold reply sent a chill through my heart: "Does it really matter whether you love someone or not?" This ambiguous answer was unsettling. Before I could fully process it, the door opened. Seeing me, Douglas stood up, pulled me close, wrapped his arm around my waist, and with a chuckle, introduced me, "Let me introduce you all—this is my fiancée."

Hearing those words brought a fleeting sense of relief. I looked at Douglas, pouring my heart into that gaze, missing the brief flicker of panic in his eyes. But now, everything is clear—crystal clear. I can no longer deceive myself.

I tried to lift my head to stop the tears, but accidentally noticed a couple’s matching jackets in the trash bin. I've always envied couples wearing coordinated outfits, so I bought a set for Douglas. On the day I gave it to him, he wasn't thrilled and complained impatiently, "Don't buy these things again. We're too old for such childish stuff." Seeing him wear it eventually brought me joy.

The documents clearly stated that Douglas didn't like that jacket, explaining why it ended up in the trash. I took out my phone, intending to call Douglas to end things, but when I opened our chat, our last conversation was from two weeks ago. I had asked him about his preference for wedding ring styles, but he never replied.

Almost involuntarily, I clicked into Douglas’s social media profile. The latest—and only—pinned post was a photo from a trip, featuring the silhouette of a girl who wasn't me. I laughed bitterly, collapsing to the floor. How could I have been so blind all this time?

I always believed that Douglas and I genuinely loved each other. But now, with everything laid bare, the stark truth is evident. There's just one week left until our wedding day. I've set several alarms to remind myself daily that I'm about to marry Douglas.