Adrian’s face changed the moment I asked for the jade pendant back.

For ten years, that pendant had hung from his neck.

It was the other half of the twin-fish jade my grandfather had left to our family.

When my parents accepted Adrian as my future husband, my mother had personally placed it in his hand.

“Only the man who marries Isabella may keep this.”

Everyone in the military district knew what it meant.

So when I stretched out my hand, Adrian stared at me as if I had suddenly erased ten years with one sentence.

“Isabella.”

His voice became sharp.

“Why do you want it back?”

I looked at him calmly.

“Because you’re not my husband.”

Mia’s eyes immediately brightened.

But Adrian only became more unsettled.

“We’re getting married after this little misunderstanding is corrected.”

“No.”

His expression froze.

I smiled.

“There is nothing to correct.”

For several seconds, he didn’t understand.

Then his gaze fell on the wedding invitation beside me.

Victor Shaw.

His uncle’s name.

Adrian picked it up.

He read it once.

Then again.

The blood drained from his face.

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since yesterday.”

His fingers tightened around the invitation.

“And you didn’t change it?”

“No.”

Mia whispered:

“Adrian…”

He ignored her.

“You’re actually going to marry my uncle?”

“Yes.”

His laugh sounded forced.

“You don’t even know him.”

“I knew you for ten years.”

I looked straight into his eyes.

“That didn’t help me very much.”

His jaw tightened.

“This is ridiculous.”

“No.”

“What I did was a joke.”

“Exactly.”

My voice stayed quiet.

“And I finally understood that I don’t want to marry a man who treats my life like one.”

Silence.

Adrian stepped closer.

“You love me.”

There was such certainty in his voice that I almost felt sorry for him.

Once, he had been right.

I had loved him so much that I forgave seven canceled marriage reports.

Seven excuses.

Seven humiliations.

Seven times he told me:

“Next time.”

But something does not become eternal just because it lasted a long time.

“I did.”

His expression cracked.

“Did?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me.

Then suddenly ripped the jade pendant from beneath his uniform collar.

He held it tightly.

“I won’t return it.”

I almost laughed.

“Then keep it.”

That surprised him.

I continued:

“A piece of jade doesn’t make you my fiancé.”

Then I turned toward the door.

Behind me, Adrian said:

“You’ll regret this.”

I stopped.

“You said Uncle Victor is impossible to live with.”

“He barely speaks.”

“He’s injured.”

“He has spent years refusing every marriage arrangement.”

“You think a man like that will treat you better than I do?”

I looked back.

“That is a very low standard, Adrian.”

His face went white.

The wedding began at noon.

Victor arrived in full dress uniform.

He walked with a cane.

His old injury made each step slower than Adrian’s, but there was nothing weak about him.

When he entered, the entire hall stood.

Even Adrian.

Only then did I remember that Victor Shaw was not merely “Adrian’s injured uncle.”

He had once commanded a special operations unit.

After his injury, he had transferred to the General Staff.

People feared him because he rarely spoke.

Not because he lacked power.

Victor stopped in front of me.

His gaze moved briefly to my hands.

“You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

He nodded.

Then, quietly enough that only I could hear:

“If you don’t want this marriage, say so now.”

I stared at him.

He continued:

“I already had the report reviewed.”

“Your name can be removed without affecting your family.”

My throat tightened.

Everyone else had spent years deciding what I should do.

Victor was the first person to ask.

“What about you?” I whispered.

“What?”

“Do you want this marriage?”

He was silent for a moment.

Then said:

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No joke.

No bet.

Just yes.

So I answered:

“Then let’s register it.”

The ceremony proceeded.

When the official document was placed in front of us, I signed Isabella Hayes.

Victor signed Victor Shaw.

The red seal came down.

That sound was very small.

But behind me, someone dropped a glass.

Adrian.

I didn’t turn around.

After the ceremony, he finally cornered Victor in the corridor.

“What are you doing?”

Victor looked at him.

“Getting married.”

“You know she was supposed to marry me.”

Victor’s expression remained cold.

“No.”

Adrian clenched his fists.

“Everyone knows.”

Victor’s voice lowered.

“Everyone also knows you altered a military marriage report for a bet.”

Adrian’s face changed.

Mia, standing nearby, immediately looked frightened.

Victor continued:

“The report passed through General Staff review this morning.”

That was when Adrian finally understood.

Changing a marriage report wasn’t some childish prank anymore.

It involved military administration.

Official signatures.

Command procedures.

And falsifying another officer’s identity.

Adrian went pale.

“Uncle…”

“I told the review office exactly what happened.”

Mia stepped backward.

“You reported him?”

Victor looked at her.

“I reported the document.”

That was worse.

No family protection.

No private cover-up.

Within a week, Adrian was formally investigated.

His promotion was suspended.

Several officers who had laughed about the bet were questioned.

Mia tried to claim she had nothing to do with it.

Unfortunately, one of Adrian’s friends had saved messages where she challenged him to “see whether Isabella would still marry him after being humiliated again.”

The joke stopped being funny when everyone had to sign statements about it.

Adrian came to see me once during the investigation.

Victor was away at headquarters.

I opened the gate but didn’t invite him inside.

He looked exhausted.

He held the twin-fish pendant in his hand.

“I came to return this.”

I accepted it.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he asked:

“Are you happy?”

I thought about Victor.

He was not romantic.

He rarely smiled.

He never called me sweet names.

But he remembered which side of the bed allowed me to sleep better.

He had changed the steps at the entrance because I once nearly slipped in the rain.

When I wanted to return to work, he simply asked:

“When do you start?”

No one had ever made ordinary respect feel so extraordinary.

“Yes,” I said.

Adrian looked down.

“I thought you would come back.”

“I know.”

“I thought you couldn’t love anyone else.”

I shook my head.

“That was never the problem.”

His eyes lifted.

“The problem was that you thought my love meant I would tolerate anything.”

He had no answer.

Months later, Adrian was transferred away from the military district.

Mia went with another unit.

I heard rumors that they blamed each other for what happened.

I never asked whether they stayed together.

Their story no longer belonged to mine.

A year after my marriage, Victor and I attended a military banquet.

Someone jokingly asked him how he had managed to marry the woman everyone had once expected to become Adrian’s wife.

Victor looked at me.

Then answered simply:

“I didn’t manage anything.”

“She chose.”

Those two words stayed with me longer than any declaration Adrian had ever made.

For ten years, I thought love meant waiting.

Forgiving.

Understanding.

Enduring one more disappointment because the next promise might finally be real.

Victor taught me something different.

The right person did not need me to wait for him to decide whether I was worth choosing.

And Adrian learned the lesson too late:

He changed one name on a marriage report to teach me obedience.

Instead, he accidentally gave me the first marriage in which my choice actually mattered.