A Hundred Chances Is Enough, Right?

There were 25 days left until our divorce was finalized. For the past five days, Tiffany's usually quiet social media had become unusually active.

During the day, she and Cedric fed pigeons in the plaza. At night, they watched parade floats from the rooftop of a hotel beside the amusement park.

I saw every step they took and every place they went together.

As for the promise she made to me, I was sure she had already forgotten it.

I got up and began packing. The floor was still a mess of scattered clothes and half-open luggage. That was when I received a call from her assistant, Jillian Ferguson.

"Mr. Marsden, don't forget the fireworks show at eight tonight, on Wilhelm Bridge. If anything goes wrong, Ms. Scorsese will absolutely kill me."

In the five years I had been married to Tiffany, Jillian was the only person who knew the truth about our marriage. Not wanting to make things harder for her, I said I would go.

But when I actually headed toward Wilhelm Bridge, I found myself lost in thought.

Five years ago, shortly after we got married, Tiffany had arranged a surprise fireworks show just for me. Jillian had quietly tipped me off then too.

Now, five years later, I was going to the exact same place.

Only this time, I felt completely different about it.

By the time I arrived near the bridge, the area was already filled with tourists. There were even several news crews setting up their cameras.

A strange feeling settled in my chest. Maybe I had misunderstood what this was, so I called Tiffany's phone.

It was busy, and I called again.

I wasn't even sure what I was hoping to hear. But no matter how many times I tried, she didn't answer. She never showed up either.

It was almost eight o'clock.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "The fireworks are about to start! I heard Ms. Scorsese planned the whole thing for her husband. I guess we're lucky enough to watch it too!"

I stood there, frozen. Tiffany had always maintained the image of being single in public. There was no way the "husband" they were talking about was me. It had to be someone else.

I knew the best view of the show was on the north side of the bridge.

Since I was already there, I figured I might as well go take a look. After all, the fireworks had done nothing wrong.

The crowd was thick, and I was gradually pushed to the front.

That was when I saw her.

Tiffany stood in the prime viewing spot, wrapped tightly in Cedric's arms. Fireworks exploded one after another in the sky above us, bright and dazzling.

Each boom echoed sharply in my ears. Over the sounds of the crowd and the fireworks, I could hear Tiffany uttering a heartfelt confession to Cedric.

A reporter stepped up with a microphone and asked Cedric, "Sir, how do you feel about that?"

Tiffany looked up at him with obvious anticipation. Cedric accepted the microphone with a small, shy smile and opened his mouth to speak.

But then our eyes met, and Tiffany froze. She murmured instinctively, "Matthew..."

For a moment, Wilhelm Bridge fell into complete silence, and even the fireworks seemed to fade. Everyone turned toward her voice and followed her gaze to where I was standing.

Cedric looked at me, then turned to her and asked, "Who's that?"

Tiffany licked her lips awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond.

I smiled and stepped forward, unfazed by the attention. "My name is Matthew Marsden. I'm Ms. Scorsese's..."

She immediately tried to stop me, but I finished the sentence anyway. "Cousin."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I finally let go of the tension in my chest. "Aunt Elena asked me to come check out her future son-in-law. Sorry if I startled anyone."

Tiffany's expression relaxed at once, and she gave me a subtle nod of approval. She had never wanted me to reveal our relationship in public, and her mother, Elena Fletcher, felt the same.

Every time I went out with her, she insisted I call her Aunt Elena.