The Day I Said I Do

After eight years of loving him in vain, my boyfriend, Gilbert Hughes, finally proposed. The wedding is set for a week from now.

However, just as I'm happily preparing for it, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and his friends.

"I have to give it to Gilbert. The moment he proposes, his first love, Cheryl, gets restless."

"But now that Cheryl's back, what are you going to do with your girlfriend?"

Gilbert pauses for a moment, then replies casually, "It's fine. I'm not actually going to register my marriage with Jennifer. At worst, I'll just hold a wedding and play along."

At the party the next day, he wraps his arm around me dotingly and socializes with our guests.

Yet, the moment Cheryl Manning runs out in tears, he instantly lets go of me and chases after her in a panic.

I follow quietly and watch them embrace tightly in the dark, kissing each other deeply.

With my heart completely shattered, I turn away and dial a number. "Want to get married? I need a groom."

The other end of the line went quiet for a moment. "Are you serious?"

I replied, "I am."

The man paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. "Alright."

"Shouldn't you think more about it before agreeing?" I asked.

He let out a soft laugh and asked in a low voice, "Will you regret it?"

I responded, "No regrets."

"Then, that's all that matters. Let me sign this contract first. I'll be back in three days," came his reply.

Just then, Gilbert Hughes returned from the garden. He asked with some curiosity, "What did you mean by 'no regrets' on the phone earlier?"

I smiled at him faintly. "It was a call with a friend. We were talking about some pre-wedding stuff. A lot of people say they feel a little regret before getting married."

Then, I paused for a moment and looked him straight in the eye. "What about you? Will you regret marrying me?"

He was momentarily caught off guard. His eyes darted away as he deliberately changed the subject. "How are the wedding preparations going?"

A sense of bitterness welled up in my heart.

Truthfully, I had tried countless times to discuss the details with Gilbert since the day he proposed.

Whenever I would excitedly mention anything about the wedding, he would smile gently and say, "You make the decisions as you're the star of the day."

I always thought it was because he truly loved me and wanted me to plan things however I wished.

It was only that night, when I accidentally overheard his conversation with his friends, that I was abruptly awakened to reality.

I finally realized that, to Gilbert, this wedding was nothing more than a performance he was putting on for my sake.

At that moment, he suddenly leaned in close, just like he always did, to kiss my forehead.

However, as he approached, I caught a whiff of a familiar freesia scent. That was