Chapter 1

After four years together, my photographer husband flies to Iceland every February, claiming he has a photography project there.

I told him I wanted to see the Northern Lights too, but he always laughed and said it was too cold there, and he needed to focus on work.

Until yesterday, when I was organizing his old hard drives for him.

An encrypted folder, simply named "February."

When I opened it, I found it was full of the same woman—Ingrid. She stood beneath the aurora, breathtaking and beautiful.

But he had never taken a single photo of me.

Bitterness filled my heart. Turns out he didn't just photograph landscapes—he photographed people too. He just didn't want to photograph me.

I looked at the two Iceland tickets I'd managed to snag after so much effort and called the airline:

"I need to cancel my tickets!"

He called while I was packing, his voice urgent:

"Didn't you say you've been wanting to see the Northern Lights forever? Why'd you cancel the tickets?"

I hung up directly.

Half an hour later, Alexander came home.

"Talia, just rebook the tickets. Stop this."

"I'm not rebooking."

I pushed the old hard drive to the edge of the table.

"Four Februaries. You took three thousand two hundred photos in Iceland. She changed outfits twenty-four times."

Alexander paused.

"Ingrid understands composition. Using her as my model saves the most trouble."

"Saves so much trouble you need to perfect the lighting on every strand of her hair?"

"That's what the work requires."

He took off his coat and walked over to sit on the couch.

"Are you really going to make an issue out of work stuff?"

I didn't say anything.

I walked to the living room and opened the left drawer.

A set of keys with a StaraLily charm lay quietly inside.

"Whose keys are these?"

Alexander glanced at them.

"Ingrid's. Her fingerprint lock is always dying, so she keeps a spare set here."

"Her fingerprint lock dies, so the spare keys stay at our place?"

"It's just convenient. Don't overthink it."

Last month, there was a torrential downpour in the middle of the night. I couldn't get a ride after work and asked him to pick me up.

He said, "It's too late. I have an early shoot tomorrow. Just call yourself a ride."

That night I waited outside the office building for two hours.

And Ingrid posted a photo on Twitter.

A black umbrella, tilted over her head.

Caption: "No matter how hard it rains, I'm never afraid—because my hero always comes to the rescue."

That umbrella was the one Alexander always kept in his car.

"I'm not going anymore." I put my documents back in the drawer.

"Iceland is too cold. I really can't handle it."

Alexander sighed and rubbed his temples.

"What's wrong with you now? I already agreed to make Iceland our honeymoon trip. What more do you want from me?"

I looked at him.

"You're taking me this year because she went to Paris for training and isn't available, right?"

Alexander didn't say anything.

Silence was the answer.

Because his lens was empty, it was finally my turn.

His phone rang. It was his mother.

Alexander pressed answer.

"Alexander, have you picked out furniture for the wedding apartment yet?"

"Not yet. We'll go look tomorrow."

"Don't bother. Ingrid picked out the living room sofa and coffee table for you a couple days ago. Italian minimalist style—absolutely gorgeous."

My hand froze mid-air, still holding my cup.

"Mrs. George," I spoke up. "That's our wedding apartment."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Oh, Talia's there too? Ingrid's taste really is better than yours. Those fabric pieces you usually buy just aren't classy enough."

I looked at Alexander.

He was looking down at his WhatsApp, with no intention of saying a word on my behalf. I hung up the phone.

Alexander frowned.

"Did you have to talk to my mother like that?"

"Ingrid has good taste. What's wrong with her helping out?"

"Fine. Let her pick." I turned and went into the bedroom.

Alexander followed me in, glancing at my back.

"Let's go pick out wedding rings tomorrow. Set a time."

"I'm not available."

"Talia, that's enough. Just settle down and get married like a normal person. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"

His phone screen lit up with a WhatsApp message.

Ingrid: "It snowed in Paris today. So cold."

Alexander picked up his phone and sent a voice message.

"Wear something warm. What about that polar jacket I sent you?"

His tone was gentle, tinged with reproach.

Last winter, I said I wanted a long down coat.

He said, "You take the subway every day. Why would you need something that thick? What you have is fine."

I turned to face him.

"Alexander, why exactly do you want to marry me?"

He didn't look up. "You have a stable personality. You're suitable for marriage."