Even on my birthday, he forgot.
That night, I sat alone in the restaurant until the candles on the small cake melted into pools of wax.
At eleven forty-seven, Tan Dieu finally sent me a message.
“Something came up. Don’t wait for me.”
I learned what that “something” was thirty minutes later.
Mo So So posted a photograph.
She and Tan Dieu were standing beneath fireworks at an amusement park.
Her caption read:
“Some people remember the things you mention only once.”
Tan Dieu had apparently remembered that she once said she wanted to see the summer fireworks.
But he had forgotten the birthday of the woman he was supposed to marry.
I confronted him the next morning.
He looked exhausted rather than guilty.
“So So just came back. She doesn’t have many friends here.”
“And I’m your fiancée.”
“You’re comparing yourself to her again.”
Again.
Somehow, every wound he caused became evidence that I was jealous.
Every question became control.
Every tear became drama.
Yet I still stayed.
Because I kept remembering the man who once waited outside my office in the rain with an umbrella.
The man who had traveled halfway across the city because I casually mentioned craving chestnuts.
The man who once held my hands and said:
“Luc Tranh, marriage is not the end of romance. I’ll spend my life proving that to you.”
Perhaps that was why the truth hurt so much.
He had not become incapable of loving someone carefully.
He had simply stopped doing it for me.
And now, less than twenty-four hours before our wedding, I stood before a mirror looking at the uneven remains of my hair while the woman he protected laughed behind me.
Something inside me finally died.
Not my love.
That had probably been dying slowly for months.
What died was my willingness to beg.
I looked at the ring I had placed on Mo So So’s finger.
She stared down at it, startled.
Tan Dieu immediately stepped forward.
“Enough.”
He took the ring from her.
Then grabbed my hand.
“I’ll put it back.”
I pulled away.
“No.”
His eyebrows tightened.
“Luc Tranh.”
“I said no.”
The room became silent.
Tan Dieu stared at me.
For years, whenever his tone became cold, I had instinctively softened.
This time, I didn’t.
I took my handbag.
“Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
He blocked the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“The makeup team arrives at five tomorrow morning.”
“I know.”
“So stop behaving impulsively.”
I almost smiled.
Impulsively?
I had spent months preparing for tomorrow.
The invitations.
The hotel.
The guest list.
The flowers his mother demanded.
The seating arrangements his father changed three times.
Even Mo So So’s name was on the guest list because Tan Dieu insisted she was “family.”
I had planned every detail.
Including one he knew nothing about.
I looked at him.
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Only then did he relax.
He thought that meant everything had returned to normal.
“Good.”
He picked up the ring.
“Then wear this.”
“No need.”
His face darkened again.
“Don’t start.”
“I’m tired.”
I walked around him.
As I passed Mo So So, she whispered:
“Sister Luc Tranh.”
I stopped.
Her voice was sweet.
“Tomorrow there will be so many important guests. You should really find a convincing wig.”
I turned toward her.
She touched her own long curls.
Then smiled.
“It would be embarrassing if people knew what happened.”
I looked at her for several seconds.
Then I said quietly:
“Don’t worry. Tomorrow, nobody will be looking at my hair.”
Her smile faltered.
I left.
At two in the morning, my phone rang.
Tan Dieu.
I rejected it.
He called again.
Then messages appeared.
“The stylist found three wigs.”
“So So feels guilty. Don’t blame her tomorrow.”
“My parents don’t know what happened. Don’t mention it.”
I stared at the final sentence.
Of course.
Even now, his concern was not that his fiancée had been drugged and humiliated.
His concern was whether I would embarrass him.
I opened another chat.
Lawyer Zhou.
Everything prepared?
He replied almost immediately.
Yes. Once you confirm tomorrow morning, we execute all three documents.
I typed:
Confirm.
Then I opened the wedding group chat.
More than three hundred guests.
At the top was Tan Dieu’s mother reminding everyone that tomorrow’s ceremony would begin exactly at eleven.
I smiled.
Exactly eleven.
Perfect.
At 10:32 the next morning, I arrived at the hotel.
Without a wig.
My head had been cleaned up by a professional stylist into an extremely short, neat cut.
When I entered the bridal lounge, everyone froze.
Tan Dieu’s mother was the first to react.
“What happened to your hair?”
Before I could answer, Mo So So rushed over.
“Auntie, don’t blame Sister Luc Tranh!”
The room went silent.
Tan Dieu closed his eyes.
Too late.
His mother slowly turned toward her.
“What did you do?”
“It was an accident.”
Tan Dieu immediately intervened.
“Mom, today is the wedding. We’ll talk afterward.”
His mother looked at me.
“Put on the wig.”
“No.”
Her expression hardened.
“Luc Tranh, hundreds of people are outside.”
“I know.”
“You cannot appear like this.”
“Why not?”
She stared at me as if I had spoken another language.
Then Tan Dieu grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hallway.
“What exactly are you trying to prove?”
“Nothing.”
“You promised you would come.”
“I came.”
“You know what I meant.”
I looked at him.
“Did I?”
His breathing became heavier.
“Stop this before I get angry.”
For the first time, that sentence made me feel absolutely nothing.
I looked at the clock.
10:47.
Thirteen minutes.
I asked:
“Tan Dieu, if you could choose again, would you still give So So the sleeping pills?”
He frowned.
“I didn’t give them to her. I put them in your water because you said you couldn’t sleep.”
“And you told her?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation answered everything.
Mo So So had not randomly discovered I was unconscious.
He had told her.
Perhaps he hadn’t told her to shave my hair.
But he had created the opportunity.
And afterward, he had protected her.
Again.
I nodded.
“Understood.”
I walked toward the bridal room.
He caught my wrist.
“Luc Tranh, after today we’ll be husband and wife. Can’t you let this go for once?”
I turned.
“After today?”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to confirm.”
At 10:58, the ceremony music began.
Guests filled the hall.
Tan Dieu stood beneath the flower arch in a black suit.
His parents sat in the front row.
Mo So So sat beside his mother, wearing the ring I had briefly placed on her finger the night before—because, apparently, she had forgotten to return it.
I walked down the aisle.
Without a veil.
Without long hair.
Without shame.
Whispers spread instantly.
Tan Dieu’s face tightened.
But there were cameras everywhere, so he forced a smile.
When I reached him, he whispered:
“After this, we’re going to talk.”
I answered:
“There won’t be anything left to discuss.”
The officiant began.
At exactly eleven, the ballroom doors opened.
Three people entered.
My lawyer.
A representative from the wedding hotel.
And a man Tan Dieu recognized immediately.
His company’s chief financial officer.
Tan Dieu’s smile disappeared.
“What is he doing here?”
The CFO looked at me rather than him.
“Miss Luc, the transfer has been completed.”
Tan Dieu frowned.
“What transfer?”
I took the microphone from the officiant.
His mother stood.
“Luc Tranh, what are you doing?”
I looked at the three hundred guests.
Then at the giant screen behind the altar.
“Before we continue with the wedding, there are three things I need to announce.”
Tan Dieu stepped toward me.
“Give me the microphone.”
I moved away.
“First.”
The screen changed.
The wedding venue cancellation agreement appeared.
“I canceled this wedding yesterday.”
Gasps erupted.
Tan Dieu’s face went white.
“Second.”
Another document appeared.
His company name.
A financing contract.
Then a termination notice.
“The emergency investment keeping Tan Corporation’s newest project alive came from a private fund.”
He stared at the screen.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
I smiled.
“The fund is mine.”
His expression froze.
Even his father stood.
“What?”
For the past two years, Tan Dieu had proudly told everyone that his company survived its worst crisis because an anonymous investor believed in him.
He never knew that investor was me.
I had planned to reveal it after our wedding as a gift.
Now it would become my farewell.
The CFO lowered his eyes.
“Funding was withdrawn at nine this morning.”
Tan Dieu grabbed the microphone.
“You’re insane!”
I let him take it.
His voice echoed through the ballroom.
“You’re destroying my company because of a stupid prank?”
The entire room went quiet.
He realized too late what he had just admitted.
My lawyer stepped forward.
“A prank involving administering medication without informed consent and altering someone’s appearance while she was unconscious?”
Tan Dieu’s face changed.
Mo So So suddenly stood.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Sit down.”
For the first time, I raised my voice at her.
She actually obeyed.
I looked at Tan Dieu.
“And third…”
My lawyer handed me a sealed envelope.
Tan Dieu stared at it.
“What is that?”
I removed the document.
“It is the cancellation of our marriage registration appointment.”
His expression finally cracked.
“No.”
I placed the unsigned form on the table.
“You told me yesterday that So So was a child and I should indulge her.”
I took his wedding ring.
Then walked toward Mo So So.
She began shaking her head.
“Sister Luc Tranh…”
I placed the ring in front of her.
“So I’ll indulge her one final time.”
Then I looked back at Tan Dieu.
“The bride’s position is available.”
Nobody moved.
I turned to leave.
But just before reaching the aisle, the CFO suddenly called my name.
“Miss Luc.”
I stopped.
His face was unusually pale.
“There’s a problem.”
Tan Dieu looked up immediately.
“What problem?”
The CFO hesitated.
Then showed me his phone.
A transaction alert.
My withdrawal order had been intercepted.
The funds had not returned to my account.
Instead, every cent had been transferred thirty minutes earlier to an unfamiliar overseas company.
My lawyer’s face changed.
“That’s impossible.”
The CFO whispered:
“Someone used Miss Luc’s authorization credentials.”
I slowly turned.
Only three people had ever known where I kept those credentials.
Myself.
My lawyer.
And the man standing beneath the wedding arch.
Tan Dieu.
He stared at the screen.
But unlike everyone else…
he did not look surprised.
