Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding.

"You've always been the one I wanted to marry."

With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind.

She quietly lets it all go.

Because she no longer wants the wedding.

And she no longer wants him.

"Hello, I'd like to reapply for the overseas assignment."

On the other end of the line, the HR officer hesitated, caught off guard by the unexpected request.

"Didn't you turn it down before because of your upcoming wedding? It's a three-year commitment. Your fiance is completely devoted to you. Can he really bear to see you go?"

"He's fine with it," Maude Ellington replied, her voice steady despite the ache beneath her words.

Everyone could see just how deeply Orson Winfield cared for her.

Each day, he made sure to prepare three different meals for her, always careful to accommodate her sensitive stomach.

No matter the weather, he was always on time to pick her up from work.

Whenever she caught even a slight cold, he stayed faithfully by her side, watching over her tirelessly around the clock.

He never missed a single holiday or anniversary, always delighting her with heartfelt gifts.

So when Maude heard that Orson's childhood sweetheart was returning to town, she felt no trace of jealousy or fear.

However, she soon realized how mistaken she was.

The very day Imogen Fenwick returned, Orson dropped to one knee and proposed to Maude in front of everyone.

Overwhelmed with happiness, Maude burst into tears.

That same night, she received an anonymous message.

It contained a screenshot of a private chat conversation.

Orson had texted, "Maude's been with me for five years. I have to marry her out of obligation."

"But Immy," he added, "you've always been the one I wanted to marry."

When Maude saw the messages, a chill ran through her.

She wanted to confront Orson with the screenshot, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She was scared.

Scared that everything from the past five years was a lie.

Scared that she had been nothing but a joke.

For the next two weeks, Orson's affection for her remained unwavering.

At times, Maude even wondered if that message was nothing more than a cruel prank.

To her surprise, a new set of photos came through.

In every shot, Orson smiled gently as he accompanied Imogen while she tried on wedding dresses.

To make matters worse, the dress he picked out for Maude today was the exact one that flattered Imogen most.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Maude glanced over at Orson in the driver's seat.

"Your eyes are red. Don't you like this dress? I can turn the car around and we'll try another one, okay?"

"It's fine," she whispered.

Orson pulled the car to the side of the road and looked at her with concern. "If I've done something wrong, just tell me. I'll fix it, I promise. You know I hate seeing you like this."

Maude felt her chest tighten, as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart. The words refused to leave her throat.

What a hypocrite.

Orson never meant to marry her, yet he carried on as if he were the most devoted lover.

All of a sudden, Orson's phone rang, and his face hardened in an instant.

He said into the phone, "Please don't cry. I'm on my way."

Turning to Maude, he said, "Hey, honey, can you get home by yourself? Something urgent came up with Immy. I have to go."

Just as Maude quietly got out of the car, she noticed it had started raining.

She turned to grab an umbrella, but before she could speak, the car sped away, splattering mud all over her.

Frozen in place, she watched the taillights fade into the distance. Suddenly, all the questions she'd wanted to ask felt empty and pointless.

Asking them now would only leave her feeling more humiliated.

Soaked from the rain, Maude made her way home.

Just as she stepped inside, a message from the HR officer lit up her phone.

"Your flight is confirmed. Please proceed with the necessary preparations."

Her departure date was two weeks away.

It was on the day that should have been both her anniversary with Orson and their wedding day.

Maude's eyes drifted to the calendar on the table. At the top was a note she'd written long ago.

"In the best years of my life, I will marry the person who loves me the most."

She had deceived herself.

Tears fell onto the page, blurring the words until they bled into one another.

She and Orson had been college sweethearts. After graduation, she stayed in this city for him, turning down a better job far away.

Now, Maude wanted nothing more than to leave this place because of him.

Orson's so-called "obligation" felt like a cruel slap in the face.

She didn't want him anymore.

After being caught in the rain, Maude came down with a mild cold.

She fell into a hazy sleep, and when she finally woke, the afternoon was already well underway.

As she stepped out of her room, she froze in place.

Right before her, Orson was carefully drying Imogen's damp hair with a towel.

"Oh, come on, stop fussing. It's not like I got drenched," Imogen said.

"Still, even a little dampness can make you sick. I don't want you to end up with a cold," Orson insisted.

Maude stood frozen as a sudden memory washed over her.

In their first year together, Orson had taken her to a concert he'd been eager to see.

Though Maude wasn't feeling well, she stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the evening.

Orson noticed immediately.

Less than ten minutes into the show, he didn't hesitate to leave and rushed her straight to the hospital.

Afterward, he felt guilty for overlooking the warning signs and causing her to suffer in silence.

For the next four years, even the faintest cough from her would send him into a frenzy.

Now, that same man was showering all his care on someone else.

After drying Imogen's hair, Orson finally noticed Maude standing there.

"Honey, don't overthink things, we—"

Imogen cut him off. "There were cockroaches at my place, and I got scared. Orson said I could stay here for a while."

Maude turned to Orson. "So that's the urgent matter you had to rush off for?"

"Immy's not like you," Orson snapped. "She's been spoiled her entire life. She's never known real hardship. She…"

Maude's eyes welled up with tears.

Orson froze, wishing he could take the words back.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant—"

Maude's parents had divorced shortly after she was born. She spent her entire childhood moving from one household to another, always feeling like an unwanted burden.

Orson knew her greatest dream was simply to have a place to call home.

By their third year together, he had worked himself to the bone to buy this house—a place he proudly called theirs.

Now, he was letting another woman move in.

His words broke Maude's heart.

"It's fine," she murmured.

After all, she had bared her soul willingly.

However, this time would be the last.

Orson let out a breath of relief and grasped Maude's hand.

Without warning, Imogen spoke up. "Orson, since you gave me the bedroom, where will you be sleeping?"

A shiver ran through his hand as he held Maude's. "I'll be in the study," he answered.

Once Imogen had gone inside, Orson hurried to explain, "Please don't misunderstand this, honey. I want you to rest well before the wedding. I will sleep in the study, really. Imogen and I are just friends now."

Maude withdrew her hand. "It's fine."

Her voice was steady, but it stirred a strange unease in Orson's chest.

Later that night, a thunderstorm raged outside.

Maude's phone lit up with a message from Orson.

"Honey, I'm not used to sleeping without you."

At the same time, a photo arrived from Imogen.

In it, Orson sat by the bed, smiling gently while Imogen held onto his wrist.

"I was frightened by the thunder, so he offered to stay with me. Do you want me to send him away?"

Maude felt a tightness in her chest.

She got up and reached for her cold medicine. Just then, another message from Orson came through.

"I really wish we could get married soon so that we could fall asleep in each other's arms every night."

Maude took the pills with a sip of water, forcing down both the medicine and the rising nausea in her throat.

She quickly typed a short reply. "It's coming soon."

Opening Imogen's chat, she wrote, "It's fine. Do whatever you want."

Lying in bed, Maude counted the days.

Only 14 remained.

The next morning, Orson prepared breakfast.

His eyes remained fixed on Maude, trying to read her expression. "Honey, last night was unbearable without you. Just 13 more days, and then I can finally marry you."

"You're right. 13 more days," Maude echoed, her gaze cold and unreadable.

"Orson, can you pass me some ravioli?" Imogen asked.

As Orson picked one up with his fork, Imogen leaned in and ate it straight from his hand.

He shot a glance at Maude. "Don't mind her. She's just playful like that."

Orson had always kept strict boundaries with other women, careful to avoid hurting Maude.

However, with Imogen, those boundaries seemed to vanish entirely.

"It's fine," Maude said, keeping her eyes down.

Orson was caught off guard.

"Honey, you—"

"Maude, do you even know what Orson used to be like?" Imogen cut in, her voice laced with defiance.

"He was a tough, stubborn guy, but he always listened to me. Whatever I wanted to eat, he learned to make it. He even remembered my menstrual cycle and planned surprises for me…"

Maude listened in silence, her throat tightening.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

The very things she had once admired in Orson were proof of how deeply he had loved Imogen.

"Immy, cut it out."

Orson's protest sounded half-hearted, his tone more yielding than commanding.

Maude's appetite vanished completely.

She stood up and went to her room to grab some documents.

When she returned, Orson was holding her phone.

"Someone from HR called," he said. "They want to know when you'll bring the handover documents. Didn't you already take time off for the wedding? What's left to hand over?"

Maude had used all her annual leave to secure a month-long break for the wedding.

"There were a few things I missed. I need to go in for a bit."

Orson didn't think much of it. "It's raining out. I'll come with you."

Maude held the folder close to her chest, her visa papers tucked safely inside.

It didn't matter whether he found out now or later. She never intended to hide it from him anyway.

The car ride passed in silence.

When they arrived at the office building, Orson opened an umbrella and walked Maude to the entrance.

His eyes stayed fixed on his phone as he replied to messages, his attention far away.

Still, he held the umbrella mostly over her, protecting her from the rain like he always had.

It turned out some acts of kindness were nothing more than mere performance.

Maude's gaze hardened as she watched him.

"Just hold on a little longer, Orson. This charade will end soon," she thought.

From the front doors, someone from HR stepped out to meet her.

"Maude, your visa documents for the overseas assignment…"