Flames of Regret

Owen straightened up. "Remember—Vivian wants this to be entirely handmade. You have one week to finish it on your own."

The embroidery style Vivian wanted was the most intricate, and I had to complete it alone. It was almost impossible. But knowing that finishing this wedding dress meant I could finally sever ties with Owen, I forced myself to keep going.

It had been so long since I last held a needle that I kept pricking my fingers. The bleeding was minor, but the pain—sharp and piercing—was enough to make me nearly pass out every time.

As the days passed, my vision started to blur. I could only afford three hours of sleep a day, and staring at the fine stitches for so long strained my eyes.

My left eye, already weak, deteriorated rapidly. By the third day, I could barely see anything out of it.

Fortunately, by the fifth day, I finished the wedding dress.

I called Owen and asked him to send someone to collect it.

To my surprise, the person who arrived was Vivian.

She ran her fingers over the deep fabric, a strange smile on her lips. "Shannon, your skills are as refined as ever. It's clear that you've put a lot of effort into this."

Exhausted beyond words, I had no patience for her games. I waved her off. "If you're satisfied, take it and leave."

"There's no rush. There's a loose thread here. Let me fix it."

Before I could react, she picked up a pair of scissors. The blade tore through the wedding dress' delicate neckline right before my eyes.

"No!" My scream was mixed with the sound of fabric ripping. But it was too late. In less than a minute, the wedding dress was reduced to shreds.

I dropped to my knees, gathering the ruined pieces in my arms, my heart breaking. "Why, Vivian? Why did you do this?"

I couldn't hold back anymore. I lunged at her, but before I could strike, someone grabbed my wrist. Owen shoved me to the ground.

"Shannon, I know you don't want me to marry Owen, but you and he are already in the past. All four of us could be happy, so why must you drag everyone into your misery?"

Vivian started crying. She said, "Owen, since the wedding dress is already ruined, let's not get married. I'll return you to her."

He reassured her, his tone gentle. "I'm yours."

He held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his gaze filled with devotion.

I had seen that look before. A long time ago, he had looked at me the same way. The weight of the realization crushed me.

I forced myself to speak. "I didn't ruin the wedding dress. She did it herself."

Owen's eyes burned with fury. "Do you think I would believe you? You're the cruelest woman I've ever met. You will fix the wedding dress before the wedding."

There were only two days left until their wedding.

I said truthfully, "I can't repair it. Find someone else."

Owen's expression darkened. Before he could bring up money, I said, "I'll pay you back."

I had saved up some money, originally intending to leave it for Luca before I completely lost my memories. But now, that was no longer an option. Nevertheless, I figured that I could still earn more since I was young.

While I was lost in thought, Owen snapped. He grabbed the scissors and started cutting apart the rest of the embroidered pieces in the cabinet.

I screamed, "Owen, stop! You're insane!"

But he didn't stop. As if possessed, he shredded everything.

My heart shattered alongside the ruined fabric. These weren't just my works but also my mentor's finest pieces. Each one was a masterpiece.

More than that, she had passed away years ago. Before she died, I had promised to preserve these works.

I tried to grab his hand, only for him to shove me away again and again.

Finally, he pulled out a wedding dress from the deepest part of the cabinet and coldly demanded, "Will you fix the wedding dress before the ceremony or not?"

That dress—it was the last thing my mentor had left me. She had once said that she wanted to see me wear it on my wedding day.

I had once worn it and showed it to Owen for fun, and that night, we conceived our child.

I could no longer refuse when he held the scissors over it. "I'll fix the wedding dress. Just don't touch that dress."

A smirk appeared on his lips as he tucked the dress under his arm. "When you bring me Vivian's wedding dress, I'll return this to you."

He turned to leave, pulling Vivian along.

I slumped to the floor, calling out to him one last time, "Owen."

He hesitated, glancing back.

"Do you really remember nothing? I haven't slept for five days to finish this dress. If I keep going, my hands will be ruined, and I'll go blind. Does that mean nothing to you?"

I looked at the man who I loved and hated. This was his last chance. If he admitted that he was only pretending to have amnesia, I would tell him everything.

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. His eyes softened. "Shannon, I—"

But before he could finish speaking, Vivian collapsed against him. "Owen, I don't feel well."

He immediately forgot about me and scooped her up in his arms. "Vivian, I'll take you to the hospital."

He cast one last glance at me when he reached the door, his voice dripping with disgust. "Stop pretending. Vivian already told me that your health has fully recovered. I won't fall for it."

The door slammed shut behind them. With it, my last shred of hope disappeared through the doorway along with Owen.

I sat motionless until I picked up the shredded wedding dress. Calling this a repair was a joke. I was practically remaking it from scratch.

Time was tight. Every second counted.

My vision was gone. My fingers, pierced over and over, were so torn and bloody that I could hardly hold the needle. I told myself repeatedly that I had to finish it and get my mentor's dress back.

By the end of another sleepless day and night, a new wedding dress lay before me.

As I stitched the final thread, all my strength drained away. I collapsed onto the table, my mind buzzing.

At the same time, something inside me was slipping away. I couldn't remember what it was.

I didn't know how much time passed before someone shook me awake.

Someone called out anxiously, "Shannon, are you okay?"

I looked up at the stranger, blinking in confusion. "Who are you?"

After a long silence, I asked, "Who is Shannon?"