When I reached the roadside, the wind blew, and only then did the tears land on the back of my hand.

A delicate die, set with red beans — does it know how the longing cuts to the bone?

He thought I didn't understand what that die meant.

But I wasn't as foolish as he believed.

I took out my phone and dialed the number of the blind-date match my mother had pushed on me countless times.

She'd been urging me to settle down soon.

She said the Hardings were just an ordinary family, and even if I stuck by Oswald while he built everything from scratch, none of the rewards would ever come to me.

But I always just smiled and said that if you want to marry a general, you have to be with him back when he's still a foot soldier.

Looking at it now, those words were unbelievably stupid.

The moment the call connected, I sniffed back the tears.

"Dr. James, that marriage you mentioned before — I accept."

"The wedding is set for eight days from now. I've prepared everything, so you don't need to worry about a thing. Just show up."

After I hung up, I deleted Oswald from the top of my pinned chats.

When I woke, the sky was already bright.

Out of habit, I reached over to the other side of the bed.

The space beside me was empty.

Oswald hadn't come home all night.

I picked up my phone.

At three in the morning, he'd sent me a message:

"Dawn just landed and needs to adjust to the time difference, so I'm keeping her company. I won't be back tonight. Get some sleep."

Below it was a post Dawn had put up on her feed ten minutes ago.

The location was tagged at the bridal shop I'd spent three months choosing.

In the photo, she was wearing the mermaid gown I'd fallen for at first sight.

The veil draped down over her shoulders, and she looked as pure as an angel.

Oswald stood behind her, head bent as he helped arrange the train of the dress, his eyes full of a tenderness I'd never once seen.

The caption read:

"Day one. Finally got to wear the wedding gown I've always wanted. Thank you."

Below it, a few mutual friends had tactfully dropped some question marks:

"?? Isn't Oswald getting married?"

Dawn replied:

"Just settling an old regret. Millie's very generous, she won't mind."

I stared at that photo for a long time.

My finger pressed against the screen, but I didn't know where to put it.

The phone rang.

The screen lit up with two words: "Hubby."

I answered.

There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

"You're up? You're not mad about last night, right? Dawn and I just tried on the gown, she's always wanted to wear that style, so I went along with her. You'll be wearing it for the wedding anyway, so think of it as me checking the fit ahead of time for you."

"Oh."

I answered flatly.

He seemed pleased with my reaction and went on:

"Oh, right — I canceled today's prenatal checkup we had scheduled. Dawn's stomach is bothering her, it's an old problem, so I'm taking her for a gastroscopy. You're fine on your own, right? I know my wife's the most understanding."

Understanding.

The time I was hospitalized with a bleeding stomach, he'd said the same thing.

Back then Dawn had gotten into a fight and was detained, and he'd gone to bail her out, leaving me to hire a caregiver myself.

He'd said:

"You're understanding, you can handle it yourself. Dawn's a girl in there alone, I can't stop worrying."

I gripped the phone, my fingertips ice-cold.

"Oswald."

I said softly:

"My stomach hurts too."

There was a pause on the other end, then his impatient voice came through:

"Can you not make a fuss? Dawn's is a chronic condition, it hurts bad enough to kill her."

"You're just hungry. Can't you cook yourself some porridge? It's only seven days, just bear with it, and once the wedding's over I'll take you to the hospital every single day."

I said nothing.

He clicked his tongue.

"All right, all right, I'm busy over here, I'm hanging up now. I'll bring you something good to eat tonight."

The call ended.

I set down the phone and climbed out of bed.

I opened the closet and took out the other wedding gown, the one I'd prepared long ago.

I smoothed it out and tucked it into my suitcase.

A whole day passed, and Oswald still didn't show up.

The next morning, the doorbell rang.

I hurried over and opened the door.

Dawn stood outside, waving and smiling at me.

"Millie, sorry to barge in."

And with that, she stepped right past me and walked in like she owned the place.

"That man, Oswald. Yesterday after the gown fitting he dropped me off at the hotel, then walked through my room checking everything, insisting an outside hotel wasn't safe, going on about hidden cameras. He holed up and slept there the whole night. No matter what I said, he wouldn't listen."

"I thought one night would put his mind at ease. But this morning he took it even further. He canceled my room behind my back and said I had to stay at his place."

"Every other room at the hotel was booked, so I had no choice but to swallow my pride and come bother you."

When she finished, she turned around, hands clasped behind her back, and smiled at me.

"Miss Fox doesn't mind, does she?"

I lowered my eyes.

"I don't mind."

"I knew Oswald's taste was never off. He said you were reasonable, and it turns out it's true."

With that, she walked into the kitchen and started looking around like she'd done it a hundred times.

Every so often a little remark drifted out.

"This guy, three years and he still keeps this pot? I nearly let it boil dry back then. Can this thing even still be used?"

"Wow, he kept the dinnerware I picked out too. This was my favorite set..."

I stood where I was, my mind full of that night a year ago when I'd called Oswald in the dead of night.

There had been violent pounding on the door outside my hotel room, and I'd been too frightened to sleep. I begged him to drive over and pick me up.

But the call had woken him, and his voice carried nothing but irritation.

"A hotel that big has no security? You can't just call the front desk if something's wrong? By the time I drive all the way over there it'll be morning, and then I'd have to drive back for work. You really can't handle a little thing like this yourself?"

I drew a deep breath, turned, and went back into the room.

I locked the door and didn't come out again.

That evening, Oswald came home.

I'd just finished cooking and set everything on the table.

And there was Dawn, wearing my slippers, clinging to Oswald's arm, her eyes rimmed red.

"Millie, I'm so sorry. I just wanted some water, and I accidentally knocked the cup off your table and broke it..."

She pointed at the shards on the floor.

It was Oswald's and my couple's mug. The limited edition.

I'd hunted for half a year before I finally got it.

Oswald's brows knit at once as he turned to me, his tone accusing.

"Millie, why would you leave a cup at the edge of the table? Dawn just got here. She isn't familiar with the place yet."

I looked at him.

"She broke my cup, and you're blaming me?"

"Who else?"

He pulled Dawn over impatiently and shielded her behind him.

"Would she be crying like this if you hadn't gone at her? Can't you be a little bigger about it? It's just a cup. Apologize to her and we'll let it go."

I laughed out loud.

"I apologize?"

"Oswald, get this straight. This is my home."

His face darkened.

"What's all this 'my home, your home'? Dawn's a guest. Can't you give a little ground? It's only seven days. Once she's gone, I'll buy you ten of the exact same thing. Stop being unreasonable."

Behind him, Dawn lifted her eyes on the sly and flashed me a smug little smile.

I looked at the shards scattered across the floor, and all at once it all felt utterly pointless.

I untied my apron and tossed it on the table.

"I made the food. You two eat. I'm going out."

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

Behind me, Oswald shouted, "Millie, what are you throwing a fit about now?"

I didn't look back.

By the time I reached the street below, I got a call from the wedding planner.

"Miss Fox, we've changed the wedding setup exactly the way you asked. Was there anything else you'd like?"

"No, that's all. Thank you."

I hung up and walked into the hotel beside me.

The third day was my birthday.

It was the day we'd originally planned to get married.

He'd said he would surprise me at the wedding. Two happy occasions at once.

Now it seemed that was off the table.

He'd already shortchanged me. I wasn't going to shortchange myself too.

I paid extra for the hotel staff to decorate my room, and got ready to celebrate my birthday alone.

At noon, I went home to grab a few things.

The moment I opened the door, I froze where I stood.

The living room was filled with white baby's breath.

Candles had been arranged on the floor in the shape of a heart.

My dead heart suddenly slammed hard against my ribs.

I couldn't stop myself. I lifted my feet and moved closer, one step at a time.

There was a cake on the dining table.

The cake read:

"Happy Birthday, Dawn."

The pounding in my chest stilled all at once, and went back to dead silence.

I turned my head toward the master bedroom.

Dawn was sitting on the bed in my silk nightgown, and Oswald was bent over her, fastening a necklace around her neck.

It was the one I'd saved three months of my salary for, and never let myself buy.

Hearing my footsteps, they looked up at the same time.

Oswald flinched, as if something had just come back to him, his expression a little stiff.

"Millie, why are you home? It's Dawn's birthday today, so I'm throwing her a little celebration, you—"

"Today is my birthday too."

I cut him off.

The air went silent in an instant.

Dawn's eyes reddened immediately. She stood up, looking flustered all over.

"I'm so sorry, Millie. I had no idea today was your birthday. Here, take the cake, I won't have any—"

"No need."

I looked at Oswald.

"You remember her birthday but not mine. Is that it?"

His face darkened.

"Millie, are you serious? She hasn't celebrated her birthday in three years. What's wrong with me throwing her one?"

"You celebrate your birthday every year. Would it kill you to skip it for one year? I already told you, just seven days. Can you stop picking at this one thing day after day?"

"Just seven days?"

I looked around at the baby's breath filling the room.

"Oswald, three months ago I told you I wanted baby's breath for my birthday."

"What did you say back then? You said it was a waste of money. Pointless."

He choked on that, then turned even more irritated.

"Wasn't this a special situation? When it's our wedding, I'll fill a whole room with it for you, all right? Don't throw a tantrum here and make Dawn laugh at us."

Dawn tugged at his arm.

"Oswald, maybe I should just go. I don't want to come between you two—"

Oswald pressed her back down.

"Go where? You're not the one who should leave."

"Millie, if you can't stand the sight of it, then get out. Don't stand here ruining the mood."

I looked at him, and then I smiled.

"Fine."

I turned and walked out of the home I'd lived in for three years.

The moment the door closed, I heard Dawn crying inside, and Oswald soothing her.

The last four days.

Oswald took Dawn to the beach where we'd planned to shoot our wedding photos, and they did an entire couple's set.

Then he took Dawn up to a mountaintop overlook and hung a love lock there.

That was the place I'd asked him to go for a whole year, and he'd always refused, saying his knees hurt.

Dawn posted on her feed every day, and Oswald was in every photo.

Underneath the captions, she always added a line:

"Thank you, Millie, for letting us be together."

Nina was so furious she wanted to go after them and have it out, but I stopped her.

There was no point anymore.

On the night of the seventh day, I went home to pack my things.

When I opened the door, Oswald and Dawn were sitting on the couch, looking through the photos they'd taken over the past seven days.