"On what grounds?!" Elsa shrieked, her face flushed with fury. "If I'm not allowed to wear it, why should that jinx who killed her own husband get to wear it?!"

I instinctively stepped back.

"Because this is the wedding dress my mother made for me."

Elsa's hand trembled as she pointed at me.

"How shameless! My brother just died, and you didn't shed a single tear. You should be in mourning! Who are you wearing a wedding dress for?"

She grabbed Larry's arm. "Besides, I'm about to marry Larry. I've already picked out this dress. Larry, say something!"

I looked at him steadily.

His expression was complicated.

"Dheena," he began slowly, "I know my brother's death has been hard on you, but life has to move on. The dress may be yours, but now that he's gone… You can't remarry. You might as well let Elsa wear it."

The moment he finished speaking, the barrage of scrolling comments appeared in my vision again.

[Wake up, heroine! The male lead's soul has been watching over you this whole time!]

[Don't be stupid! If you give up the dress today, he'll love you even more when he returns in three years!]

[Be good to your adopted sister. That's how you win the male lead's heart!]

I cut him off immediately.

"Why can't I remarry?"

Larry froze.

"You're not my husband. What right do you have to tell me what I can or can't do?"

A storm gathered in his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice had turned cold.

"I'm not controlling you. I just think Elsa suits this dress better. You're her sister-in-law. Take it off, and give it to her."

"I won't."

The next second, Elsa lunged forward and grabbed the skirt of my dress.

Fabric strained. In the struggle, several pearls were ripped clean off, scattering across the floor.

"Let go!"

A sharp pain pierced my chest. Instinctively, I shoved her away.

She fell hard onto the ground with a scream.

"My belly! My belly–!"

"Elsa!"

Larry's face went white. He rushed forward and scooped her up. When he looked back at me, his eyes were savage.

"What the hell are you doing?! Do you know she's pregnant?"

He stepped toward me, fury radiating off him.

"If anything happens to the baby, I'll make you pay with your life."

With that, he carried Elsa out in a hurry.

The scrolling comments refreshed again.

[What's wrong with this heroine? Hurting her adopted sister like that–does she think the male lead can't see this from heaven?]

[Just wait till he comes back and abandons her!]

[She should hand over the dress and apologize!]

Ignoring the noise, I knelt on the floor and picked up the fallen pearls as the shop assistants sympathetically watched on.

I muted the "comments" in my mind.

I mailed the wedding dress to my aunt, asking her to find a tailor who could repair it.

That night, Elsa posted on social media.

In the photo, she and Larry were holding hands, fingers intertwined. On her hand was a massive diamond ring.

[Hmph. The old woman lost her husband and became jealous of me. Good thing I have a husband who loves me.]

My heart tightened when I saw the ring.

I knew that design; it had once been my favorite.

Thomas had always known.

I used to stand outside jewelry shop windows, staring longingly at that very ring.

He would brush me off impatiently.

"Be good. Diamonds are tacky. We don't have that kind of money. A simple silver ring is enough."

Looking back, it was not that he could not afford it–he just did not think I was worth it.

For the next few days, I stayed home and avoided everyone.

There were only a few days left anyway. I just needed to rest and wait for my own wedding.

However, three mornings later, loud pounding shook my door.

I opened it to find Larry standing there, anger written all over his face.

"Dheena, what are you doing? Why has your phone been off?

"Mom and Dad are waiting for you at home, and you're just sleeping in all day?"

I frowned.

"Whose Mom and Dad? Mine died years ago. They've probably been reincarnated by now."

His expression faltered.

"I-I meant your in-laws."

"That's even stranger. I'm not married. I'm single. Where would I get in-laws from?"

"But you were engaged to Thomas! He's dead. As his fiancee, you should take responsibility!"

I chuckled apathetically.

"I was never legally married to Thomas, so that makes me no fiancee of his. And doesn't the Warsh family still have Elsa? She's lived off them for twenty years as their adopted daughter–it's about time she showed some filial devotion."

I looked him straight in the eye.

"If she truly cared about his parents, she wouldn't choose to hold her wedding during the seventh-day mourning for their son."

His face darkened, but I was already moving to close the door.

Before it shut, he shoved an invitation through the gap.

"Elsa isn't holding a grudge over what happened last time, but her wedding is in two days. You'll come and do her makeup."

I run a beauty company and still take personal bookings. I was ready to refuse outright–until I learned Larry had already contacted one of my artists directly.

On the wedding day, my makeup artist called me in tears.

"Ms. Lancer… The bride says she hates the look. She's threatening to file a complaint!"

I rushed over immediately.

Backstage in the bridal suite, Elsa lounged with one leg crossed over the other. My makeup artist stood nearby, her face marked with two fresh handprints.

I took a deep breath and told her to leave.

"She's new and inexperienced. Don't blame her. I'll do it myself."

I picked up the brow pencil and began shaping Elsa's eyebrows.

As I worked, she spoke softly, "Dheena, you must be so jealous of me. Your husband just died–and here I am, getting married."

I did not respond. I focused on her brows.

Then her voice dropped lower.

"I actually know my brother isn't dead. He'd rather fake his death and change his face than stay with you.

"Dheena… You're a joke."

My heart clenched.

Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist.

Suddenly she screamed–and dragged a brow razor across the arch of her own eyebrow.

Blood welled instantly.

She shoved the razor into my hand.

"Larry! Help!"

He burst into the room and froze at the sight: Elsa bleeding, me standing there with the razor in my hand.

"What happened?!" Rage filled his eyes.

Elsa burst into tears. "Dheena, I know you're jealous of my wedding, but you didn't have to disfigure me…"

The bridesmaids chimed in, accusing me all at once.

I felt my heart tremble. "It wasn't me. She did it herself–"

The slap landed hard before I could finish.

"You're insane!" Larry barked. "Apologize to Elsa!"

I bit the inside of my cheek and stared at him. "What if I don't?"

He let out a cold laugh and turned, locking the dressing room door. "Then you're not leaving.

"Elsa got a few cuts on her face. You'll take ten times that."

Before I could even cry out for help, the bridesmaids rushed me.

"B*tch! How dare you bully Elsa!"

"Your husband's dead, and you can't stand anyone else being happy? Let's ruin that pretty face of yours!"

They shoved me to the ground.

Pain exploded across my face as the razor sliced into my skin again and again.

It hurt.

It was the kind of pain that tore the soul apart.

Through blurred vision, I met Elsa's taunting gaze.

I have a clotting disorder and, unfortunately for me, I had not brought my medication. If I bled too much, I could die.

Thomas knew that.

I sobbed and pleaded with him. "Please… Check the surveillance footage. I really didn't–"

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. He almost stepped forward…

However, Elsa looped her arm through his.

"Hubby, she already ruined my face. You wouldn't let her off, would you?"

Her voice quivered sweetly.

"This is my once-in-a-lifetime wedding…"

Larry's hesitation hardened into cruelty.

"You brought this on yourself," he spat. "You hurt Elsa and expect no consequences? You're twisted."

Somewhere, it felt like invisible comments were scrolling across the air:

[She's so vicious. She'll destroy her happiness sooner or later.]

[If she just kneels and apologizes, he'll love her again.]

I stared at Larry–no, at Thomas.

He watched me with cold detachment. Not a shred of warmth in his eyes.

The beating did not stop. They even tore off my clothes and snapped humiliating photos.

"This is your lesson. Call the police, and these will be everywhere."

I lay there barely breathing, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

"If Thomas were still alive… he would've protected me."

Larry's body jerked.

Then the wedding emcee came to summon them.

He left with Elsa and the bridesmaids without sparing me a glance.

The 'comments' kept rolling:

[She should reflect on herself.]

[As long as she serves Elsa properly from now on, he'll forgive her.]

I closed my eyes and dragged my battered body out of there.

When love died, the debt died with it.

"Thomas… this cursed bond between us is finally over."

The wedding went on as if nothing had happened. By the time it ended, I was long gone.

Later, Larry felt a trace of unease and called me. My phone was off.

He dismissed it.

"Dheena's just throwing a tantrum. I'll coax her later."

After the wedding, he took Elsa on their honeymoon.

Watching her smile in happiness, he could not help but remember the look of utter devastation in Dheena's eyes that day.

He sighed.

Elsa had always been spoiled. He knew it. He indulged her.

Due to social conventions, they could not be together openly, so he had given her a wedding.

Three more years. Once Elsa had a child, he would reclaim his identity and go back to Dheena.

He imagined her bursting into tears of joy when she saw him again. The thought made him smile.

…

When he returned to the country, he went straight to Dheena's apartment.

"Dheena, open up. I brought you a gift…"

He knocked for a long time. No answer.

An irritated neighbor poked her head out.

"Stop knocking so early in the morning!"

He hurriedly asked, "Auntie, where's Dheena?"

The woman frowned.

"She got married a month ago. The apartment's up for sale. You didn't know?"