My Wedding Belonged to His First Love

On the day I went to pick up my wedding dress, I found out the rose lace gown had been replaced.

In its place sat a dress covered in heavy tulip embroidery.

I asked my fianc about it.

He didn't even look up from his phone, busy replying to Chloe on Snapchat.

He said carelessly,

Chloe likes tulips. She helped me change it.

"Besides, you look the same in everything."

But that rose lace was hand-stitched by my late mother before she passed away.

I stared at the unrecognizable dress, unable to speak for a long time.

Ethan thought I was about to cry again, and his voice turned impatient.

"Don't make a big deal out of a dress."

"Chloe was just trying to help you. She has better taste than you anyway."

It was only later that I realized it wasn't just the dress.

The entire wedding venue had been redesigned into a pink tulip themeChloe's favorite.

I used to think this was our wedding.

But it turned out I was just a stand-in, meant to stand under the spotlight to complete a wedding that Chloe never got to have.

Roses wither, and I didn't want to love him anymore.

After leaving the bridal boutique, we went to our new house, which was still under renovation.

The moment I pushed the door open, I was greeted by a sea of tulips.

Ethan assumed I was going to throw a tantrum again.

"It's just decor. As long as it's livable, it's fine."

I picked up a small, tulip-shaped nightlight and whispered,

"But you promised me we would use a rose theme. My favorite..."

Ethan reached out and grabbed my wrist.

His fingers were cold against my skin. His tone was still patronizing, like he was pacifying a spoiled child.

"Hazel, the renovation is almost done. If you throw a fit now, the workers will have to redo everything. It's not worth the hassle."

I looked at the massive oil painting of tulips hanging in the living room. "I didn't ask them to redo it."

Ethan relaxed his grip slightly, looking satisfied with my obedience.

"Good. Chloe actually came by today to check on things. She said this painting would make the living room look brighter."

I smiled faintly. "She really put a lot of effort into this."

"She knows about these things," Ethan said, pulling out his phone to text. His thumbs flew across the screen.

"Not like you, always clinging to old things."

Old things.

My mother's legacy had become a disposable "old thing" in his eyes.

The interior designer standing nearby looked uncomfortable. He held up his tablet and asked in a low voice,

"Mr. Miller, should we still go with the champagne sheets Hazel chose for the master bedroom?"

Ethan didn't look up. "No, change it to white. Chloe has trouble sleeping. Don't use heavy colors."

The designer froze and glanced at me quickly.

Ethan realized what he had just said. His brow furrowed, but he quickly recovered his composure.

"I mean, Chloe helped test the lighting in here. Her advice is professional. Don't overthink it."

I nodded. "I won't."

He seemed choked by my calm response. He stared at me.

"Why are you acting so weird today?"

I didn't answer. I turned and walked into the walk-in closet.

The shelves had been lowered. The hanging section had been adjusted to the height of the long dresses Chloe usually wore.

I had told Ethan before that I had a lot of long winter coats and needed a tall closet.

At the time, Ethan told me our house wasn't a warehouse, telling me not to make it look like a cheap rental.

But with one word from Chloe about her dresses, the closet was rebuilt to fit her.

I pulled open a drawer and found a small, cream-colored ceramic deer.

It wasn't mine.

Ethan walked in. Seeing the deer, he paused, then picked it up and set it aside.

"Chloe must have left it here. I'll have her take it back later."

I asked, "How many times has she been here?"

"It's a renovation. Of course she had to come," Ethan said, his voice cold.

"You're always busy with work. I asked her to supervise to save you the trouble."

"Does she have a key?"

Ethan locked his phone screen and let out a dry laugh.

"Hazel, do you have to make everything sound so ugly? She came here to help, not to rob us."

I looked at him. "I just asked if she had a key."

Just then, the sound of a key turning in the lock came from the front door.

Chloe walked in carrying a bakery bag. Her movements were as natural as if she were coming home.

"Ethan, I bought your favorite chestnut cake. I brought one for Hazel too."

She saw me, her smile unchanging. "Am I interrupting?"

Ethan naturally took the bag from her hand. "No. She was just saying how much she appreciates your help."

Chloe smiled. "Don't be so polite, Hazel! Your future home is so important. Of course I want to help you guys make it perfect."

I looked down at the soft slippers she was wearing.

There was only one pair of guest slippers in the shoe rack. They were light yellow, one size smaller than mine.

Ethan followed my gaze. His patience finally snapped.

"They're just slippers. She comes over a lot, so we left a pair here so she doesn't have to keep taking her shoes off."

Chloe bit her lip gently. "Maybe I should take them back. Hazel might mind."

"No need," Ethan decided for her. "She's not that petty."

I reached into my bag, pulled out my copy of the house key, and placed it on the console table. "Then leave this key here too."

Ethan looked at the key, his face darkening. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I said, "You two clearly need it more."

He stared at me for a few seconds, trying to figure out if I was truly angry or just trying to make him apologize.

Chloe spoke first.

"Hazel, please don't misunderstand. Ethan and I grew up together. We have habits we can't change, but we are really just friends."

Ethan chimed in quickly. "You heard her. Stop acting like this, or she won't even dare to help us anymore."

I picked up my bag. "Okay."

Ethan grabbed my wrist again, harder this time.

"I'll have the driver take you home. I have a business dinner tonight. Don't call my mom and complain about this nonsense."

I looked up at him. "What are you afraid I'll say?"

"I'm afraid you'll blow things out of proportion," he whispered. "The wedding is in three months. Don't make both of our families look bad."

Three months.

We had been engaged for two years. The day we finally set the date, I had circled it on my calendar three times in pure excitement.

Now, that house was filled with Chloe's presence.

The designer packed up his things to leave. As he passed me, his tablet screen lit up.

I saw the project name written at the top of the file.

"Recreation of Chloe's Old Apartment."

I stood in the elevator, the words on the screen burning into my mind.

Ethan ran out just as the elevator doors were closing. He blocked the door with his hand, his voice thick with anger.

"Hazel, are you seriously throwing a tantrum over a project name?"

I looked at his cufflinks. "You saw it?"

"So what if I did?" He stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby.

"Chloe's old place had great aesthetics. It's normal for the designer to use it as inspiration."

I asked, "Why are we recreating her old apartment for our future home?"

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do you have to be this dramatic? I bought the house, and I paid for the renovation. Is it a crime for me to choose a style I find comfortable?"

The reflective metal walls of the elevator showed my pale face. I said, "No, it's not."

Ethan actually looked angrier. "Hazel, this silent treatment is more annoying than yelling."

The elevator doors opened on the first floor. Chloe's voice echoed from behind us. "Ethan, don't yell at her. It's all my fault."

She held out the ceramic deer to me.

"Take this as an apology. I used to love it, and Ethan said it would look great on your master bedroom windowsill."

Ethan looked at the deer, his eyes softening for a split second.

I suddenly remembered my birthday three years ago. He had given me a rose brooch.

He said it reminded him of mequiet, elegant, and peaceful.

Later, when Chloe returned to the country, that brooch disappeared, and I never saw it again.

I didn't take the deer. "Since you like it so much, keep it."

Chloe's hand froze in midair.

Ethan snatched the deer and said coldly, "She's offering it to you. Just take it. Don't embarrass her."

I looked him in the eye. "I don't want someone else's leftovers."

Chloe turned pale.

Ethan's expression changed instantly. "Hazel, apologize."

Workers were moving in and out of the lobby, and the designer was still nearby. Several pairs of eyes quietly drifted over to us.

I asked, "Why?"

"You're being hurtful," Ethan said, gripping my shoulder. His grip wasn't painful, but it kept me from pulling away.

"Chloe is just trying to be nice. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?"

Chloe whispered, "It's fine, Ethan. I don't want to make Hazel uncomfortable."

Ethan didn't let go of me. "I've spoiled her too much. She doesn't even have basic manners anymore."

I looked at the ceramic deer.

One of its ears was chipped and carefully glued back together, leaving a faint line on the glaze.

Chloe suddenly said, "Actually, Ethan originally gave this deer to me. I just thought it would fit nicely in your new home."

Ethan frowned. "Chloe."

She acted as if she had let a secret slip and quickly looked down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

I laughed.

So, it wasn't her old belongings she wanted to give me.

It was a keepsake Ethan had given her, and they wanted to display it in my house.

Afraid I would ask more questions, Ethan shoved the deer into my hands.

"Just take it. It's just a decoration. Stop making a scene."

The sharp edges of the broken ceramic pressed into my palm.

My hands trembled, and I dropped it. The deer shattered in two on the concrete floor.

Chloe gasped.

Ethan's face went completely dark. "Hazel!"

I knelt down to pick up the pieces. A sharp edge sliced my finger, and a bead of blood welled up.

Ethan saw it. His hand twitched, but he chose to shield Chloe first. "Don't look, Chloe. Be careful not to get cut."

Chloe hid behind him. "Hazel, I know you don't like me, but you didn't have to do that."

I gathered the shards in my hand. "How much was it? I'll pay you back."

Ethan stared at my bleeding hand, his voice dropping. "This isn't about money."

I asked, "Then what is it about?"

He didn't answer.

The designer carefully handed me a tissue. "Hazel, you should wrap your finger first."

Ethan took the tissue and was about to hand it to me when his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and answered immediately. "Hi, Aunt Beverly. Yes, Chloe is with me. Don't worry."

Chloe leaned in close to listen, her face instantly softening.

The voice on the other end was loud and clear.

"Ethan, how is your new house with Chloe coming along? I'm coming back to town soon, and I want to be the first to see it!"

I squeezed the shards in my hand and looked up at Ethan.

He was silent for a second, then quickly replied, "It's almost done. I'll bring her over then."

Ah. So it was their house all along.

I didn't ask Ethan who Aunt Beverly was.

And he didn't offer to explain.

The next day, Ethan's mother, Eleanor, invited me to try on dresses for the after-party. When I arrived at the boutique, Chloe was already sitting on the sofa, a designer shawl draped over her shoulders.

Eleanor smiled and waved. "Hazel, you're here! Come look. Chloe has great taste; she picked out a few dresses for you."

I looked at the rack of dresses. They were all high-waisted with short trains and very narrow shoulder lines.

I said, "These don't really suit my style."

Eleanor's smile faded slightly. "You're getting married, Hazel. It's always best to listen to your elders and those with experience. Chloe has been to many high-society weddings; she knows better than you."

Chloe stood up and pulled a dress off the rack. "This one is beautiful. Ethan would love it."

I asked, "It's my wedding. Why does everything have to be about what he likes?"

Eleanor paused with her teacup halfway to her lips. "Hazel, don't be so petty. Ethan is busy. You should be more supportive of him."

Chloe added softly, "Ethan likes clean, simple looks. If you wear something too flashy, he won't be used to it."

The assistant took the dresses to the fitting room, but I stood still.

Eleanor finally frowned.

"What is wrong with you lately? You've been so stubborn. The house design, the decoration, and now the dressesnothing seems to please you."

I looked at her. "Did you know my wedding dress was replaced?"

Eleanor paused. "Chloe mentioned it to me. The old dress was a bit outdated and didn't fit the theme."

I nodded. "My mother made that dress before she died."

The room went dead silent.

Chloe's eyes welled with tears instantly. "Hazel, I really didn't know. If I had known, I never would have suggested changing it..."

Eleanor softened her tone. "That was indeed a misunderstanding. But Ethan just wanted the wedding to look perfect. Don't hold a grudge over this."

Suddenly, I felt a deep sense of exhaustion.

They all knew I was wronged.

But they were more afraid of Chloe feeling uncomfortable.

When Ethan pushed the door open and walked in, Eleanor looked at him like he was a savior. "Ethan, thank God you're here. Hazel keeps saying these dresses don't suit her."

Ethan glanced at the rack. "Chloe picked them?"

Chloe nodded. "I was just making suggestions."

"Then pick one of these," Ethan said, walking over to me. He gently smoothed a strand of hair over my shoulder.

"Hazel, don't make everyone waste their day here."

I raised my eyes to meet his. "What if I don't want to wear any of them?"

His hand froze. His voice was low and warning. "The wedding isn't just about you."

I laughed. "The house isn't mine, the wedding dress isn't mine, and I can't even choose my own party dress. Whose wedding is this anyway?"

Ethan stared at me, his eyes flashing with a clear warning. "There are people around. Stop talking nonsense."

Chloe pleaded softly, "Hazel, don't misunderstand. Ethan just wants everything to go smoothly."

I turned and walked into the fitting room without another word.

As the assistant helped me zip up the dress, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the designer.

"Hazel, I asked around about the rose dress you mentioned. Mr. Miller said not to keep it. Chloe said she didn't like it either, so they had it sent to the warehouse."

Below was a photo.

In a dusty corner of a warehouse lay the rose dress my mother had made for me. It was torn, and the hem was covered in dirt.

I stared at the photo, a cold numbness spreading through my chest.

The assistant asked, "Hazel, is the zipper too tight?"

I replied, "A little."

When I walked out, Ethan looked up.

He seemed satisfied. His tone softened. "This one looks decent."

Chloe, however, froze. Her fingers tightened around her shawl.

Eleanor smiled. "If Chloe had had her wedding back then, she probably would have looked just like this."

Ethan's face tightened. "Mom."

Eleanor realized her slip of the tongue and took a sip of her tea to cover it up. "I was just talking."

I looked at the mirror.

The girl in the reflection was wearing a dress handpicked by Chloe, standing next to Ethan. She looked like an old, faded photograph where someone had pasted my face over Chloe's.

Through the crack of the fitting room door, I saw a folder lying on the table.

I bent down to pick it up. On the cover, it read: Wedding Ceremony Timeline & Preferences.

Under Bride's Style Preferences, the name listed was: Chloe.

I put the folder back down, my fingers lingering on the cover.

Ethan walked over. "What are you looking at?"

I looked up. "Why does the wedding plan list Chloe's preferences?"

He glanced at it, his expression unchanged. "The planning company was lazy. They used her old event template. I'll have them change it."

Chloe spoke up immediately. "I sent them some inspiration files earlier. They must have gotten confused. Hazel, please don't be mad."

I looked at Ethan. "Is it really just a misunderstanding?"

His patience was entirely gone. "What else would it be? Hazel, are you going to act like the whole world owes you just because you see Chloe's name?"

I didn't ask further.

That afternoon, I went to the warehouse alone.

The manager searched for a long time before bringing out the rose dress. "Mr. Miller's assistant said to throw it away, but we didn't dare, so we kept it here."

The skirt was creased and covered in dust.

I used a tissue to wipe it clean, bit by bit.

My phone rang. It was a text from Ethan.

"Aunt Beverly is coming over to the new house for dinner tonight. Be there. And don't pull a face."

I texted back: "Okay."

The dinner was held at the new house.

When I arrived, the dining table was set right under the tulip painting. Chloe was holding an old lady's arm, smiling sweetly.

Seeing Ethan, Aunt Beverly's eyes lit up. "Ethan, Chloe, this new house is beautiful! It looks just as cozy as Chloe's old apartment."

Ethan didn't correct her.

I stood at the door, my hands freezing as I took off my coat.

Chloe saw me first, her smile faltering slightly. "Hazel, you're here."

Aunt Beverly blinked. "And who is this?"

Ethan finally spoke. "Aunt Beverly, this is Hazel."

He didn't introduce me as his fiance.

Aunt Beverly looked between the three of us, then nodded with a smile.

"Oh, a friend! Come in, sit down."

Ethan whispered to me in a low, cold voice, "She has a heart condition. She can't handle stress. Don't say anything stupid."

I asked, "What do you mean by stupid?"

He stared at me. "Don't mention the wedding, and don't mention our relationship. I'll explain everything to you after dinner."

I smiled softly. "Ethan, you invited me here to play the role of a guest in my own home?"

He lowered his voice. "It's just one dinner."

Chloe walked over, looking apologetic, but her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Hazel, Aunt Beverly took care of Ethan and me when we were younger. She always thought we would end up together. I just don't want to break her heart."

I said, "So I should be understanding."

Ethan cut in quickly. "It's best if you can."

At the dinner table, Aunt Beverly kept putting food on Chloe's plate.

"Chloe loved this dish when she was a kid. You remember, don't you, Ethan?"

Ethan deboned a piece of fish and placed it in Chloe's bowl. "I remember."

Aunt Beverly clapped happily. "Ethan always knows how to take care of you. Seeing you two together makes me so happy."

Chloe glanced at me, her face flushed. "Aunt Beverly, stop it."

Ethan drank his water, offering no correction.

I sat at the very edge of the table. The light from the tulip lamp above was dim, making the food look gray and unappetizing.

Aunt Beverly suddenly looked at me. "My dear, do you have a boyfriend?"

The table went dead silent.

Ethan looked up, his eyes filled with a clear warning.

I put my fork down. "I used to."

Ethan's brow furrowed.

Aunt Beverly didn't catch the tension. "What about now?"

I said, "Not for much longer."