Bertrand Callum was a well-known lawyer in our circle and my fiancé.

We had agreed to go on our honeymoon right after registering our marriage. But he broke that promise again and again.

He took his secretary to every place I had dreamed of visiting.

On my birthday, he brought her to Saltorlini, the place we had planned to go together.

Later, he gave up our marriage registration just because she had sprained her ankle.

Even when I was in a car accident and on the verge of death, he hung up on my call for help because of something she said.

After I recovered, I went alone to Acreatic, a place I had always longed to see, and moved out of the home we once shared.

A week after I left, Bertrand called to scold me.

"Annie, you need to stop overreacting. Are you really going to divorce me over something so trivial?"

I wanted to remind him that we had never actually registered our marriage. But ultimately, I shut up and said nothing. After all, there was nothing between us anymore.

"Annie, I'm sorry. Marina twisted her ankle. Let's postpone the marriage registration."

Bertrand Callum bailed on me with just one phone call from his secretary, Marina Ellison.

The light of hope in my eyes dimmed instantly.

It was happening again.

I couldn't even recall when it started, when anything concerning Marina began to take priority over me.

Even something as important as registering our marriage…I had become the one left behind.

I found a spot to sit and waited for a long time.

Sure enough, Marina updated her social media again.

Her caption read: [Accidentally sprained my ankle. Boss brought me to the hospital.]

The photo only showed a blurred figure from behind.

But I recognized the familiar style of his coat and the faint outline of his limited-edition watch. The man tending to Marina was none other than my fiancé, Bertrand.

Just then, a scheduled notification popped up, reminding me of the trip I'd spent so long planning.

Only then did I realize Bertrand had already turned me down ninety-nine times for Marina.

"I guess… this time, I'll just go alone," I muttered to myself.

Staring at the long list of destinations on the itinerary, I booked a flight and cruise to Acreatic.

Then, without hesitation, I tossed our number ticket for the marriage registration queue into the trash.

Even though I had already decided to leave, I broke down the moment I saw the room I had decorated so carefully.

The wedding photo on the wall captured Bertrand's impatient expression. The wedding dress had been a solo performance, chosen after countless fittings.

Every single piece of furniture in that room, every detail, had been arranged by me, and me alone.

Like someone possessed, I tore through the room, packing everything I could.

But when I came across two plane tickets to Saltorlini, I suddenly froze.

I looked at the flight time and finally broke down in tears.

So that's where he had been on my twenty-seventh birthday. He had gone with Marina…to the one place I had dreamed of visiting the most.

"Annie, how did you know I was planning to take you to Saltorlini?"

Bertrand returned while I was still packing. He didn't even notice that the room had been emptied, that the decorations were gone. He was simply delighted to see me packing.

Like a child showing off a prize, he pulled out two tickets. "See? I already bought the tickets. We're flying tomorrow. Come on, don't be mad at me anymore, okay?"

My heart, which had started to harden, wavered just a little as he coaxed me gently for a while.

Then suddenly, he asked, "By the way, where's that custom pain relief spray I had made for you? Marina needs it."

He was talking about the spray he had specially ordered for me three years ago, when I had cut my hand peeling an apple.

He had personally consulted an overseas expert to have it made.

I still remembered how he held my hand and said, "It'll help with the pain, but I hope you'll never have to use it."

Because of how much it meant to him, I had kept it sealed away with care, always trying not to get hurt.

I never imagined he would ask for it now for another woman.

He still looked at me with the same gentle affection. But my heart had begun to turn cold, inch by inch.

Of course… compared to Marina, who was I now?

Just as I was about to speak, a familiar buzz came from my phone.

I opened it and saw another new update from Marina.

"What's so special about Saltorlini? The Maldewes sounds way more fun."

She flashed a peace sign at the camera, a not-so-subtle jab that made me give up on arguing altogether.

I pointed to the cabinet nearby. "It's in there. Go ahead and take it."

Bertrand bent down to grab it, then rushed out again.

Before leaving, he reminded me, "Oh right, the flight's at three in the afternoon. Don't forget to meet me at the airport."

Meet—not pick up. It was clear who else would be on this trip.

I watched his retreating figure and finally gave up completely.

I glanced around the familiar room, eyes landing on a carefully decorated box Bertrand had once prepared.

Inside were envelopes—his love letters to me—and a custom-made rose crystal necklace. It was a gift to mark our 100th day together.

He once said, "Annie, you're a passionate rose. And I want to be the one who holds it close."

After that, he wrote me a love letter every so often.

But ever since Marina entered the picture, the letters came less and less.

Today, I had exactly ninety-nine of them.

I tossed both the letters and the necklace into the fireplace. Then I went to the storage room and cleared out everything from our past.

The sky was growing darker when Bertrand called.

"Annie, something came up at work. I have to stay late, so I won't be coming home tonight…"

"Okay."

I hung up, dragged my suitcase out the door, and left our home without looking back.

But on the way to the airport, disaster struck.

A car spun out of control and crashed into mine.

The driver managed to scramble out.

I, too shocked to move, felt warmth spreading between my legs.

"My baby… please help me. I'm pregnant…"

The pain drained all my strength. I couldn't run.

The driver shouted as the gas tank caught fire. His words shook me to my core.

No one dared approach.

As the flames grew, I clenched my teeth and dragged myself out of the wreck.

Maybe it was my desperation that moved the driver. He turned back and pulled me to safety.

Trembling, I looked at him. "Could I… use your phone? I need to make a call."

Bertrand had connections. If he was willing to help, maybe my baby could be saved.

The driver handed me his phone.

I dialed Bertrand with shaking fingers.

"Bertrand… I was in a car accident…"

But it wasn't his voice I heard; it was Marina's soft, delicate tone.

"Boss, it's Annie. She got into a crash. You should go—"

Bertrand cut her off, furious. "Annie, enough! Stop using these pathetic tricks to bother me. I'm not answering your calls anymore."

Then he hung up.

The searing pain in my abdomen jolted me back to reality.

"My baby… please, save my baby…" I clutched the driver's sleeve, begging him.

But he gave me news that shattered me. "I'm sorry. The ambulance will take at least twenty minutes."

Overwhelmed, I lost consciousness.

When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

A nurse entered, her face tinged with pity.

"We couldn't save the baby… If you'd gotten here ten minutes earlier, there might have been hope."

Tears streamed down my face.

"Don't cry," she said gently. "You're still recovering. You need to avoid emotional stress."

All my IDs had been burned in the fire. I asked the nurse to contact a friend, who helped me get a new phone.

But just as I finished setting it up, Bertrand called.

"Annie, where the hell are you? I told you I'd meet you at the airport. Are you seriously throwing another tantrum?"

Listening to his furious voice, I was surprised by how calm I felt.

"Bertrand, I was in a car accident yesterday. You hung up on my call for help. Let's…"

Before I could say let's break up, his fury exploded.

"Annie, that's enough! Even if you're mad, there's a limit! You know how much I care about you, and you still say things like this to hurt me? If you don't want to go with me, then fine—our honeymoon's canceled!"

He hung up. And I no longer had the strength to argue.

Just then, the nurse handed me the miscarriage report.

"If it weren't for the accident, the baby would've been healthy. You took such good care of it."

Tears blurred my vision. "Thank you."

By the time I had fully recovered, my friend had already arranged for the baby's cremation.

Carrying my baby's ashes, I boarded a plane headed for Acreatic.

With my baby's ashes in tow, I saw breathtaking landscapes I'd never witnessed before.

It wasn't until George Halloway, a photography enthusiast, approached me that I broke out of my silence.

"Is that someone you lost?" he asked gently. "You look heartbroken."

He handed me a photo he had just taken. In it, I was sitting with the urn in my arms, gazing into the distance.

I forced a faint smile. "That's… my unborn child."

George's expression softened with apology. "Then I'm sure they'd be happy you brought them to a place like this."

My eyes flickered. "Do you think so?"

"Of course. You brought them somewhere so beautiful, didn't you?"

Encouraged by George, I began to appreciate Acreatic's stunning scenery. His photography was exceptional. He took countless pictures for me.

"These," he said, "can be little keepsakes… for your unborn child."

I looked at the breathtaking views and felt my heart slowly opening.

But Marina still hadn't learned to leave me alone.

Just like before, she sent me a string of photos, then followed up with a tearful message.

Marina: [I'm sorry, Annie. I meant to send those to a friend.]

In the photos, she and Bertrand stood far too close. The intimacy in their body language told me everything. Bertrand had clearly allowed it.

This was his usual tactic of using Marina to punish me.

I touched the urn gently and ignored her childish games.

I didn't even want Bertrand anymore. Why would I care about such pitiful provocations?

Acreatic was beautiful. And for once, Bertrand and Marina no longer had any power over my emotions.

George took more photos for me, some even with the two of us together.

When I looked at my smiling face in one of them, I was momentarily stunned. It had been so long since I'd truly smiled.

Two days before my return flight, Bertrand finally called after a week of silence, furious.

"Annie, this tantrum of yours has gone on long enough. Are you really divorcing me over something this small?"

That's right, I'd sent him a breakup message. He must've forgotten we never actually registered our marriage, thinking this was a divorce.

I almost reminded him, but in the end, I didn't. Because the truth was, we no longer had any ties.

At the airport back home, I ran into George again.

He looked surprised. "You're on this flight too?"

"Yeah. What a coincidence."

After all, what were the odds of returning from Acreatic on the same flight? Maybe we really were fated to cross paths.

After getting our luggage, George and I were going to say goodbye to each other.

"Are you planning to take your baby somewhere new?"

"Mhm. It's time for them to rest now."

I felt the weight of the urn in my bag and, for the first time, felt at peace.

George's eyes dimmed with sympathy. He leaned down and hugged me gently. "Annie, everything's going to be okay."

His warmth touched something in me. I was just about to return the embrace when Bertrand suddenly appeared and punched him to the ground.

"Bertrand, what are you doing?!"

I rushed forward and stood protectively in front of George.

Bertrand's eyes were red, his expression uncharacteristically shaken.

"Annie, who is he to you? Have you forgotten you're a married woman?!"

I opened my mouth to explain that we were never legally married.

But George scoffed coldly before I could speak.

"You're her husband? Then where were you when she went to Acreatic? When she boarded the cruise alone, where were you? Ah… right. With that woman behind you, perhaps?"

He pointed behind Bertrand with a smirk.

Marina was standing nearby and watching the scene unfold like it was entertainment. She was no longer limping.

Bertrand scowled. "She's just a colleague. Nothing more."

Marina's face turned pale, and her posture faltered.

George dusted off his clothes, then suddenly put an arm around my shoulders.

"Then what's the problem? Annie and I are just friends too."

"Let go of her! You bastard—"

I couldn't take it anymore. As Bertrand tried to lash out again, I slapped him across the face. "Enough! What the hell are you doing?!"

Bertrand clutched his cheek and looked at me in disbelief. "Annie…you hit me…for him?"