The other end of the line went silent.

After several seconds, Lam Hieu finally laughed awkwardly.

—Tu Tu, what are you talking about?

I looked at my injured hands.

—I’m asking whether you deliberately locked me inside.

—It was just a wedding game.

—Then why was the door locked from outside?

Another silence.

I continued.

—Why was Khuong Niem wearing my dress?

—Why was she holding Trinh Viet’s arm?

—And why did I hear you say I deserved it?

Lam Hieu stopped pretending.

Her voice became irritated.

—Fine. We went a little too far.

—But Niem Niem loved Trinh Viet first. Everyone knows that.

I closed my eyes.

There it was.

Not an apology.

A justification.

—So because she liked him first, you thought my wedding belonged to her?

—Tu Tu—

I hung up.

Then I called the wedding planner.

—Cancel everything that hasn’t already been used.

—Bride?

—There is no bride anymore.

Next came the apartment.

The down payment had come from my savings.

Most of the furniture had been purchased by me.

I contacted a lawyer, photographed every receipt and packed only my personal belongings.

At 11:47 p.m., Trinh Viet finally came home.

He opened the bedroom door and froze.

Two suitcases stood beside me.

—What are you doing?

—Leaving.

His expression darkened.

—Because of what happened tonight?

I looked at him.

—You mean because my bridesmaids locked me in a closet while my fiancé pretended my twin sister was his bride?

—Don’t describe it like that.

I almost laughed.

—How should I describe it?

Trinh Viet rubbed his forehead.

—Niem Niem has always regretted losing me.

—Losing you?

My voice became quiet.

—Were you ever hers?

He didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

He walked toward me.

—It was only for the reception. I knew eventually you’d come out.

I held up my hands.

His eyes finally noticed the injuries.

—What happened?

—I had to force my way out because nobody came.

For the first time, his face changed.

—They told me you were hiding as part of the game.

—And you never checked.

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

I picked up my suitcase.

He blocked the doorway.

—We’re already married.

—No.

His eyebrows tightened.

That morning, before the ceremony, the registrar had discovered a problem with one document.

The legal registration had been postponed until Monday.

Trinh Viet had laughed and said paperwork didn’t matter because after the ceremony we would already be husband and wife in everyone’s eyes.

Now that accident felt like mercy.

I took the unsigned registration documents from my bag.

—There is no marriage certificate.

His face drained of color.

—Tu Tu.

I tore my copy in half.

—Congratulations.

I placed the pieces on the table.

—You spent the entire evening practicing marriage with the woman you preferred.

—Now you can make it real.

I walked past him.

He grabbed my suitcase handle.

—Listen to me.

I turned.

—Let go.

Something in my expression made him release it.

The elevator doors closed between us.

I didn’t return.

The next morning, my mother called seventeen times.

My father called nine.

Khuong Niem sent one message.

“Sister, yesterday was only a joke. Please don’t destroy everyone’s relationship because you’re angry with me.”

I stared at it.

Then blocked her.

Three days later, my parents appeared at my office.

My mother began crying immediately.

—Niem Niem hasn’t eaten properly since the wedding.

I almost admired the absurdity.

—And you came to tell me that?

—She’s your twin sister!

—Wasn’t I also your daughter when I was locked inside that closet?

My mother stopped crying.

My father frowned.

—Nobody knew you were actually hurt.

—You knew I was missing from my own wedding.

Neither answered.

That silence finally freed me.

For years, I had competed with Khuong Niem without realizing there was never a competition.

My parents had already chosen.

So had Lam Hieu.

And apparently, so had Trinh Viet.

I stopped asking people to choose me after they had repeatedly chosen someone else.

Trinh Viet refused to accept the breakup.

Flowers arrived.

Then jewelry.

Then long messages explaining that he had only indulged Khuong Niem because he felt guilty about their past.

I returned everything.

Two weeks later, he waited downstairs from my company.

—Tu Tu, I was wrong.

—Yes.

He seemed surprised by how easily I agreed.

—I shouldn’t have let them lock you up.

—Correct.

—I shouldn’t have allowed Niem Niem to replace you.

—Correct.

His eyes reddened.

—Then give me another chance.

I looked at him.

—You still don’t understand.

—Then explain it to me.

So I did.

—When you thought I was safely locked away, you were happy.

He froze.

—You weren’t worried.

You weren’t looking for me.

You weren’t uncomfortable pretending another woman was your bride.

I swallowed.

—You enjoyed it.

That was the part he couldn’t deny.

Months passed.

Without me between them, Trinh Viet and Khuong Niem finally had every opportunity to be together.

They lasted less than three months.

Khuong Niem had loved winning him from me more than she loved living with him.

And Trinh Viet discovered that the fantasy of his first love was easier than an actual relationship.

When they separated, my mother called.

—See? He never truly loved your sister.

I smiled faintly.

She thought that meant I had won.

She still didn’t understand.

—I don’t care who he loves anymore.

One year after the wedding that never became a marriage, I passed the same hotel.

Another bride stood outside beneath the lights, laughing while someone fixed her veil.

For a moment, I remembered myself.

The wrinkled dress.

The dark closet.

The endless waiting.

Then I looked at my hands.

The marks had faded long ago.

My phone rang.

It was Trinh Viet.

I declined the call.

Then I walked on.

That wedding had been designed to prove I was the substitute.

Instead, everyone involved accidentally gave me the greatest wedding gift possible.

They showed me exactly where I stood before I legally tied my life to theirs.

Khuong Niem could keep the dress.

Lam Hieu could keep her excuses.

My parents could keep choosing their favorite daughter.

And Trinh Viet could keep wondering why the bride he expected to forgive him never came back.

They locked me inside a closet because they thought I would wait until my husband found me.

But in the end, nobody came.

So I opened the door myself.

And that was the moment I finally passed through it.