The Wedding He Never Noticed

A unique video went viral overnight.

In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender.

Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride.

Within hours, the video topped various trending charts.

People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year.

Anya Rossi later posted a message.

"I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!"

The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations.

"A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!"

"It's like something out of a novel."

"So enviable."

I went to my boyfriend to confirm.

Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study.

“Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.”

His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?”

Ted chuckled, unconcerned.

“So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.”

At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely.

A month later

On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man.

Our wedding processions met downtown.

According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously.

That’s when Ted saw me.

I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him.

But in another man’s arms.

After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.

After learning that Ted Moretti had proposed to his secretary, I called my mother.

“Mom,” I said softly, “I’ve decided to accept the marriage arranged by the family.”

The living room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tightly. My voice sounded distant and hollow—as if it came from another person.

There was a sharp silence on the other end of the line.

“You were so vehemently against it before,” my mother said cautiously. “Carly, marriage isn’t a transaction. The important thing is your happiness. Don’t force yourself.”

Her concern made my throat tighten.

“I’ve thought it through,” I replied. “You can start making arrangements.”

She exhaled slowly, as if she had expected me to say that.

“You and Ted have been together for so many years,” she said gently. “But he’s never acknowledged you at home. He doesn’t even remember your birthday. Your father and I have known for a long time—this relationship will never end well.”

Every word she spoke clearly and painfully revealed the truth.

Everyone saw the truth—except me.

“The Ryder family is powerful,” my mother continued. “Their son is steady, disciplined, and upright. He understands the rules of our world. Carly, you should find someone who puts you first.”

I closed my eyes.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said. “I believe you.”

“Would you like us to arrange a meeting first?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I replied softly. “Let’s start planning the wedding first.”

After a brief silence, her tone became pragmatic.

“Then let’s set the wedding for a month from now.”

After hanging up, I felt someone behind me.

Ted was standing there.

He held a gift box—black and gold, with a prominent logo of an Italian luxury brand.

“A wedding?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Who’s getting married?”

He stiffened, alert and wary.

“It’s definitely not me,” I said casually.

I smiled and shook my head gently.

“Just a friend.”

The tension on his shoulder almost instantly dissipated. The sight stung my chest.

He sighed in relief. Was it because he thought I wasn't pressuring him?

Or because he thought I hadn't yet discovered that he—the wedding everyone was celebrating—was already engaged?

“I brought you your favorite LV bag,” he said. “Would you like to try it on?”

Once, such a gesture would have made me feel valued.

But now, I only felt bitterness.

Not long ago, I saw Anya's social media post.

That LV bag wasn't my favorite.

It was hers.

Perfume, lipstick, and all the gifts Ted had given me over the years—they were all her favorites.

Then I realized something worse.

Ted only started giving me gifts after Anya joined his company.

So, Ted, when you think of me…

Are you really thinking of me?

I swallowed hard.

“I don't like LV anymore,” I said calmly. “Don’t buy me anything anymore.”

He stared at me. “When did this start?”

I didn’t argue.

“My taste has changed,” I replied.

Some things, once seen clearly, can never be forgotten.