Chapter 02

C. Jacobs 877 words

I ran out of Marlene’s house in tears.

That evening, Alfred called, criticizing my behavior at Marlene’s home and demanding that I apologize to Marleen properly.

Then, Marleen called me, sobbing and saying it was her fault and that I shouldn’t be angry.

The next day, Alfred brought Marleen to my company.

Alfred asked me to bring out the wedding dress I had been preparing for so long for Marleen to try on.

I run a high-end bespoke clothing company, and the wedding dress was designed and meticulously sewn by the renowned designer I had invited, intended for my once-in-a-lifetime moment.

“Marleen’s figure doesn’t quite match mine. How about buying a new one?” I suggested tentatively. My voice was hoarse because… I had already accepted Alfred and Marleen’s absurd proposal.

The wedding that should have been mine, I was expected to generously give to Marleen, fulfilling the “promise” she and Alfred once made. But what about the promises he made to me? Did they not count anymore?

Our vows of fidelity in love were as fragile as decaying paper.

As soon as I spoke, Alfred scolded me for being petty. “Do you think a mass-produced wedding dress from outside is acceptable?” he snapped.

Marleen looked at me pitifully, holding my hand and saying, “Laraine, I just don’t want to have any regrets before I die. Please, grant me this wish.”

Suppressing my annoyance, I thought, if I didn’t agree, I would be seen as petty, as someone who bickered with a dying person out of jealousy and envy. The weight of moral obligation pressed heavily on me.

I brought out the wedding dress I had prepared and let Marleen try it on. As she admired herself in the mirror, she sweetly asked Alfred if she looked good, if it suited her. Her tone was soft and tender, and her eyes shone with happiness.

Alfred nodded repeatedly, saying it looked beautiful, just perfect on her, like it was tailor-made. He glanced at me and, with a questioning tone, asked, “See? Doesn’t it fit perfectly?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice choked with emotion.

“Bring out your diamond ring and let Marleen try it,” Alfred ordered.

I stood still. She could wear my dress, but why should she also wear my diamond ring?

“What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, looking at me. “At a time like this, are you still quibbling over this?”

“diamond ring isn’t anything special. You can buy one for Marleen , as a token of your love,” I suggested cautiously.

For the wedding, Alfred had only given me $100,000 for the wedding expenses; the diamond ring, diamond necklace, diamond bracelet, diamond earrings, and diamond anklet were all bought by myself.

I had once called him, asking him to accompany me to choose the ring, but he excused himself, saying he was busy and that I should decide.

He also said that since I was a designer, I had a knack for matching clothes and accessories, so he wouldn’t interfere. Though I was disappointed, I still chose the wedding jewelry on my own, mainly to match the dress.

Alfred’s face grew colder, a tense atmosphere surrounding him. He asked if I was reluctant to part with the ring.

Marleen, on the verge of tears, asked if I found it inauspicious for her to wear it since she was dying.

Alfred pulled me aside and scolded me in a low voice, “Laraine, stop being selfish. You know I’m starting a company with my friends, and I don’t have much extra money. Marleen’s medical bills and medication cost a lot…where would I find the money to buy a ring worth over a hundred thousand dollars?”

“Are you deliberately trying to embarrass us?”

Another heavy accusation fell on me. Suppressing the bitterness and the tears welling up in my eyes, I went upstairs, brought down my jewelry box, opened it, and placed it in front of Marleen.

Then, I watched her, like a robber intruding into my private life, picking through my diamond jewelry, trying each piece on in front of the mirror.

“Laraine, these diamond earrings are so beautiful. They must be expensive, right?” Marleen said, admiring herself in the mirror while wearing my diamond ring.

I stayed silent. That ring, purchased with my hard-earned savings through a friend’s recommendation, was a genuine P3-grade diamond. The entire design was my own handiwork.

“Laraine, do you have a diamond bracelet?” Marleen asked, saying that turquoise bracelets didn’t match the diamond earrings, and she wanted to wear a diamond bracelet.

I was about to say “no” when Alfred interjected, “Don’t you have a white diamond bracelet? Why not bring it out?” His tone was laced with reproach.

Suppressing my irritation, I replied with a hint of coldness, “No way!”

That bracelet was a keepsake from my father. He placed it on my wrist as he lay dying, saying that since he wouldn’t be able to see me get married, the bracelet would accompany me…witness my future happiness.

Something so special and meaningful, I couldn’t and wouldn’t let anyone else wear it.