I tried to pull my hand back instinctively, but Samson's grip was too strong, and I couldn't break free.

His gaze burned into my skin, making it sting even more.

Suddenly, Judy, still lying on the floor, cried loudly.

"Samson, my stomach hurts!"

Samson's expression changed instantly. He rushed to Judy's side, checked on her, and then scooped her up and ran out in a panic.

I tried to stand and ignore the pain in my knees, but I just couldn't manage it. Someone noticed the blood on the floor and called an ambulance in shock. I was taken to the hospital for treatment.

The doctor used tweezers to pick out the shards of glass from my knee one by one. I grimaced with pain, just as voices from the next room drifted over.

"Thank goodness you and the baby are all right, sweetheart. I was so scared," I heard Samson say.

"It's okay, Samson. Don't be too hard on Helen. She just really likes jewelry, that's all..." Judy replied sweetly.

Samson sat by her side, gently feeding her the bowl of cereal in milk using a spoon. The two of them laughed and whispered together, their intimacy like a knife stabbing into my heart.

I did my best to block out their voices and focused on the doctor as he wrapped my knee in gauze, patiently explaining how to take care of it.

By the time I got home, it was already late at night. When I opened the door, I found Samson waiting for me on the living room couch.

He barely glanced up when I walked in, his tone tinged with accusation. "What took you so long?"

"My knee was injured. I went to the hospital to get it bandaged."

He paused at that, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes as he glanced at my knee. But just as quickly, he became cold again.

"I lost my temper when I hit you today. I fixed the doll you liked for you," he said as he placed the old doll on the coffee table.

The stitches were crooked and uneven, and they really stood out against the worn fabric.

I knew that it could never go back to the way it was, no matter what, just like our relationship. Once broken, it could never be made whole again.

Samson's tone turned accusatory again. "If you wanted jewelry, you could've just told me. Why pin it on Judy? She's pregnant. Can't you control that awful temper of yours?"

I bit my lip, trying to defend myself. "What if I told you I didn't push her?"

Samson's frown deepened. "If you didn't, then who did? Are you saying she fell on purpose?"

"There were security cameras at the auction. Why don't you check them?" I asked.

"There's no need. Judy treasures her baby. She would never lie about something like that!" Samson raised his voice, making my head and heart pound.

In the end, I just gave up in silence. I didn't want to make any pointless arguments.

Samson used to treat me like I was the most precious thing in his world. If I ever scraped my knee or bumped into anything, he would be the first to comfort me. He would never have raised a hand against me.

But that was a long time ago. Now, he only believed whatever Judy said without condition. He stared at me for a long time, his expression complicated, as if he wanted to see right through me.

"If you want to explain, I'll give you one chance. But you have to tell me everything. Why did you leave me five years ago? And what about that scar on your hand? How did you get it?"

My chest tightened painfully.

I had thought about telling Samson the truth.

But after five years, did it still matter to bring up the past?

He wasn't the man who loved only me anymore. He had been with countless women, and now, he made Judy pregnant. Even if I told him everything, it would only bring us more pain. Not to mention, I was leaving soon anyway.

In the end, I just shook my head.

"It's nothing. It's just something minor when I was abroad. As for why I left, you already know the answer, don't you? After everything that happened, how could I ever believe you would still be able to protect me?"

My words seemed to sting Samson. He snatched the doll from the table and hurled it at me, yelling furiously, "Get out!"

The doll hit me hard. I let out a muffled cry, then turned and walked away with the doll in my hand.

Behind me, I heard him grinding his teeth.

"Helen, I really regret ever loving you."

I didn't look back.

I didn't stop.

I simply closed the door behind me.

At dawn, Samson suddenly announced he was taking Judy to the beach for a vacation.

"You're coming with us, too."

When he spoke to me now, his tone made everything he said sound like an order. I had remembered all the times I had told him I wanted to see the ocean, but back then, we never had the money to go.

But this time…

"I can't go. The doctor said my knee can't get wet."

Samson frowned. "You don't get to choose."

In truth, it wasn't just about water. My knee hurt so much I could barely walk. Every step felt like torture to me.

But I knew Samson would never allow me to refuse.

In the end, he brought us all to the beach. The salty, damp wind brushed my face as I trailed far behind them, watching the two of them stroll hand in hand at sunset.

I never expected that Samson would suddenly turn around and pull a ring box from his pocket and drop to one knee before Judy.

I froze.

At that moment, brilliant fireworks exploded over the water, lighting up the beach under the setting sun. The tourists nearby all turned, cheering and showering them with rose petals.

I heard Judy sobbed with joy as she said, "I do!"

Then, I watched as Samson slid the ring onto her finger.

Samson had planned a flawless, romantic proposal for Judy. Everything was perfect, except for me standing awkwardly at a distance.

After the proposal, Samson threw a party on the beach.

They danced and laughed by the beach, surrounded by people. The entire time, Samson never let go of Judy's hand.

I found a folding chair far away from the crowd and sat down, staring out at the distant sea.

The last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon, and night settled in.

Suddenly, a shout rang out, "Samson fell in! Somebody help him!"

I jumped, heart pounding, and looked toward the dark water.

I could barely make out a figure struggling in the waves by the light of a few flashlights.

"It's too dark! The waves are too rough! It's suicide to go down there right now!" someone shouted, and even the strongest men in the crowd shrank back.

I gritted my teeth, grabbed a life buoy, and dove in.

Swimming had been my passion for years. I had even won several competitions from high school through college. That was why I trusted myself in the water.

More than that, even if Samson and I had grown distant, I couldn't just stand by and watch him drown.

The icy water instantly enveloped me. The old wound on my knee felt like someone had just thrown a handful of salt on it, pain radiating through my whole body.

Still, I clung to the life buoy and swam for Samson with everything I had.

Just as my strength was giving out, I finally caught hold of his arm and dragged him back toward shore.

Once we hit the sand, guests rushed forward to pull us out. As soon as I felt solid ground, everything went black, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

The doctor was scolding me. "I told you, you can't get that knee wet! You're lucky we got you here in time, or you could have lost your whole leg!"

The news was on, warning viewers not to swim at night as they covered last night's accident.

Before I had even fully come to, the broadcast cut to Judy and Samson. On camera, he thanked his fiancee with heartfelt emotion. Judy nestled shyly in his arms.

"Judy saved me twice," Samson said. "Five years ago, when I was attacked, she was the one who rescued me. And now, she risked her life and jumped into the sea for me. I've made up my mind. She's the one for me."

I could feel the anger inside of me bubbling as I clenched the sheets in my fists.

I was the one who saved Samson both five years ago and last night, but Judy had shamelessly claimed all the credit for herself.

I wondered if it was the physical pain in my knee or the pain of being wronged burning inside me, but tears rolled and fell from my eyes, dropping on the white sheets.

Through my blurred vision, I could still hear Samson's voice from the television.

"Our wedding will be next Friday, broadcast live for the world to see. I hope everyone can witness our happiest moment together."

A moment later, my phone buzzed with a message.

It was from Samson.

"Ran off again when I was in danger, huh? Coward. Next Friday, Judy and I are getting married. You'll be her bridesmaid. That's an order."

His tone was not one of discussion, but absolute command.

I stared at the screen for a long time, typing and deleting line after line. In the end, I sent nothing.

I never told him I wouldn't be there.

By next Friday, I would be leaving.

Their wedding was held on a private island. Under Samson's careful planning, the whole event was unbelievably grand.

He made sure every detail was perfect. Roses covered the island, and pure white petals lined every path. When the guests arrived by yacht, they were all amazed at the spectacle Samson had created.

Samson promised Judy that he would give her the perfect wedding of the century.

Five years ago, he had made me a similar promise.

Back then, we were squeezed together on a tiny couch, and Samson swore he would give me the perfect wedding someday.

We dreamed about countless wedding scenes. On a beach, on a beautiful island, in the snowy mountains, in a grand hall…

But those dreams never came true.

Samson handpicked Judy's wedding dress. It was made from soft white fabric embroidered with tiny diamonds and pearls, the fishtail hem hugging her figure perfectly.

When she tried on the dress, all the shop assistants showered her with praise.

"This gentleman is so thoughtful! He has helped you with every detail. He's more devoted than most grooms."

"You look incredible in this wedding dress with the mermaid hem. You two really are a perfect match when you stand next to each other!"

As for me, Samson dug out an old beige dress from the back of the shop, wrinkled and covered in dust.

Of course I didn't wear it. I just folded it and left it on the bedside table.

By then, the room was empty. There was only that frumpy dress, meant for a bridesmaid.

I packed up my things and rolled my suitcase out the door.

Samson messaged me.

"Where are you? The wedding's about to start! Bridesmaids need to line up for the procession."

All the trending news was about their "wedding of the century."

I watched the livestream. Samson was standing beneath a rose arch, his eyes fixed on the boats coming and going along the shore.

Just like the way I had seen him in my dreams, years ago.

In the distance, I heard the roar of an engine. The car sent to pick me up had already pulled up in front of the villa.

I glanced at my phone one last time.

Who was Samson waiting for until now?

Was it for Judy, or for me?

Yet, none of that mattered anymore.

I blocked all their contacts, snapped my SIM card in half, and tossed my phone into the trash.

Goodbye, Samson Leslie. May you and Judy be happy forever.