Chapter 11

“Shen Wangshu.” He came a step closer. “When I asked why you insisted on this place, you said you wanted to start again. I was stupid enough to think I could really help you build a new life.”

I looked up.

“Shiye, back then I…”

“Back then, what?” He cut me off. “Did you think any man willing to marry you would do? That walking down this aisle in a wedding dress would make up for the wedding you never had five years ago?”

I went pale.

He glared at me.

“That’s why it had to be today. Why the venue couldn’t change. Even when I called it off just now, your first reaction wasn’t to ask me to stay. It was to keep this hall.”

His voice began to shake.

“Tell me, Shen Wangshu. In four years, did you ever truly love me?”

I parted my lips. Before I could answer, he scoffed.

“Or did you just need a man to stand here on September seventeenth, in the place meant for Xu Cheng’an?”

I looked at the man who had once wanted to spend his life with me. My heart felt caught in an invisible fist.

At last, he was asking why I clung to this date and place.

But what mattered most to him was whether he was Cheng’an’s substitute.

I clenched my fingers. For once, I didn’t rush to explain.

His face darkened completely.

“You’re quiet because I’m right?”

He looked at me, his voice frighteningly low.

“So the person you wanted to marry was never me.”

—

### 10

I didn’t contradict him at once.

There was truth in part of what he said.

I had been selfish in choosing the date. I wanted that unfinished wedding to have a proper ending.

But that didn’t mean I had never loved him.

“Shiye.” I met his eyes. “Not telling you why I chose September seventeenth was wrong.”

A cold laugh.

“Finally admitting it?”

“I should have told you everything from the start, not just said the place mattered to me.”

“And?” He stared. “You think an apology makes this go away?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Then tell me: if I hadn’t canceled today, were you going to deceive me for the rest of my life?”

My lips moved. I couldn’t answer.

I had intended to keep quiet until the wedding was over.

Once Shiye and I were truly married, perhaps the past would fade. I would put Cheng’an in a quiet corner of my heart. Special dates would no longer hurt. Familiar places would no longer bring back unfinished promises.

I thought it was best for everyone.

Only now did I realize, bitterly, that I had deceived myself too.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His mouth twisted.

“Do you know how I feel? I thought I was pouring my heart into my own wedding. Now you tell me another man chose the date and place five years ago. What the