Chapter 5

The next day, I went to the bridal boutique.

The custom wedding dress I'd tried on three times and altered twice hung in the display window.

The shop manager saw me and greeted me with a beaming smile. "Miss Nina, we've taken in the waist as you requested. Would you like to try it on again?"

I stood in front of the window. The pure white wedding dress and the white gauze on my forehead overlapped.

I once thought that putting on this dress would mark the day my five years of waiting finally paid off.

I reached out and gently touched the tulle on the hem.

No anger as I'd imagined. No grief either.

"No need to try it on," I said, withdrawing my hand, my tone calm.

The manager froze. "Then... shall I wrap it up for you?"

"Get a trash bag," I said, smiling faintly at her. "Throw it away."

"Miss Nina! This was hand-sewn by a French designer..."

Ignoring the manager, I turned and pushed open the boutique door.

Just as I reached the intersection, a car screeched to a halt in front of me.

The door swung open and Hudson stepped out quickly.

He wore a trench coat. Stubble had grown on his chin from catching overnight flights. His brow was furrowed in its habitual way, his expression agitated.

"Nina! When are you going to stop this tantrum---"

He'd been about to yell at me, but when his gaze landed on my pale face and the gauze on my forehead, his pupils constricted sharply.

He froze, a trace of panic creeping into his voice. "What happened to your head?"

He instinctively raised his hand to touch my forehead.

Just as his fingertips were about to make contact, I flinched backward.

Hudson's hand hung suspended in midair. Bewilderment flashed through his eyes.

In these five years, I'd always been the one to lean my face into his palm.

I'd never pulled away from him before.

His fingers slowly lowered as he tried to mask his panic with coldness.

"What exactly are you trying to pull?"

His tone softened slightly, but still carried condescension. "To force me to come back, you're even throwing away the wedding dress? Fine, Nina. You win. I'm back."

"I didn't transfer the house to Cecilia either. I'm doing everything your way, okay?"

He paused. "I'll take you shopping for a bag later. Stop being upset."

I looked at him coldly.

A breeze swept past, carrying his cedarwood scent.

Mixed with the cedarwood was a trace of Cecilia's sickly sweet perfume.

On the edge of his collar was a smudge of lipstick.

Before, whenever I detected these scents and marks on him, nausea would rise in my stomach. Jealousy and hurt would keep me awake all night.

But now, I felt strangely calm.

"Hudson," I said, my voice gentle.

He looked at me, relief washing over his face. "Yeah? You done being mad?"

"I'm not allergic anymore," I said softly, looking at him.

Hudson froze, bewildered. "What allergy? Did you eat something wrong?"

"Before, whenever I smelled her perfume on you, I'd feel nauseous."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, giving him a small smile. "But now, looking at her lipstick stain on your collar, I don't feel anything at all."

Hudson's face instantly drained of color. His lips trembled faintly, as if he finally realized---

I wasn't throwing a tantrum.

I truly didn't care anymore.

"Nina..." He lunged forward to grab my wrist, panic overtaking him. "Don't say things like that! The wedding is still on for next month. I promise you, after we're married I'll absolutely keep my distance from her..."

I didn't struggle. I let him grip my wrist.

His palm was hot, filled with urgency, but I only felt exhausted.

My gaze fell on my ring finger---on that mediocre engagement ring.

Cecilia had casually remarked that "solitaires are too tacky, they have no soul," so Hudson bought me this plain band instead.

I slowly raised my hand, pinched the ring, and gently slid it off.

The ring came off easily---too loose. It didn't take any effort at all.

My finger didn't even have an indentation from wearing it, as if it had never belonged there.

"Nina! What are you doing!" Hudson's voice cracked completely. His grip on my wrist tightened suddenly.

Ignoring his loss of control, I simply placed the ring in his trench coat pocket.

"Give it back to you," I said, raising my head to look calmly at his reddening eyes. "This ring, along with you---neither was made for me in the first place."

With that, I yanked my hand free.

A stark red mark now encircled my wrist.

I didn't even rub it. I turned, raised my hand, and flagged down a passing taxi.

"Drive."