I Died in His Arms, Now He Lives in Regret

"Take off that dress. You don’t deserve to wear it!"

At our five-year anniversary party, Damien shoved me into the pool in front of everyone.

My white wedding dress was soaked and clinging to me, my makeup a mess, while he held Camilla, his sister-in-law and first love, disdainfully. "No matter how much you resemble her, you'll never be her!"

For five years of marriage, I was nothing more than a stand-in for Isla. He provided me with a mansion and jewelry but couldn't even grant me one piece of a keepsake necklace.

When Camilla flaunted that diamond necklace with a taunting smile, I finally tore up the contract. "Damien, let's get a divorce."

Infuriated, he grabbed my wrist. "Can you afford the breach of contract penalty?"

I laughed through my tears. "I would rather be poor for a lifetime than be your shadow."

Later, I dazzled at an auction, and Mr. Rhodes kneeled in the rain with red eyes. "Sienna, please come back."

But once the rose wilts, it rarely blooms again. The heart of a substitute has died—how can it ever warm again?...

Splash!

The icy pool water swallowed me instantaneously.

"Take it off! You don’t deserve to wear it!" Damien stood at the edge of the pool, looking down at me with a voice as cold as ice. "Sienna, no matter how much you resemble her, you'll never be her!"

Soaking wet, I climbed out of the pool, my makeup a disaster. The music in the banquet hall stopped abruptly.

All eyes were on me, cutting into my skin like knives.

Damien stood by the pool, his tone still icy. "Take off that dress. You don’t deserve to wear it!"

Our anniversary, and the white wedding dress I had picked out so carefully, clung to me, pathetic and heavy.

I struggled to stay steady, fighting not to break down in front of everyone.

Camilla snuggled close to Damien, lovingly touching the familiar diamond necklace around her neck.

"Brother-in-law, it looks like sister is angry."

It was Isla’s necklace. One I had seen countless times in photos.

"This necklace is beautiful. You said it was Isla's favorite. Now it belongs to me." She tilted her head, making the diamonds sparkle under the lights.

I forced a bitter smile, my lips felt like they were tearing. "Yes, she’s your little rose. I am only… the dirt beneath the rose."

The banquet hall's bright lights hurt my eyes, reflecting every face that jeered or looked on indifferently. Derisive whispers pierced my eardrums like needles.

"Tsk, five years and still thrown away by Mr. Rhodes like garbage?"

"Did she really think wearing a replica wedding gown would turn her into Isla? Dream on."

"Look at Ms. Dawson's necklace. That’s Mr. Rhodes’ true favorite. What does this one count for…"

"Hush, keep your voice down. Don't let Mr. Rhodes hear." Despite their words, their eyes roved over my wet body with undisguised contempt.

Their voices were just loud enough for me to hear, each word cutting into my heart like poisoned ice shards.

I tried to straighten my back, but the freezing pool water had drained all the warmth from my body, the cold spreading through every limb, making my teeth chatter. The wet wedding dress stuck to me heavily, outlining my wretched form, exposing every inch to those prying and disdainful eyes.

It felt like an invisible hand was gripping my chest, each breath tearing at my lungs, nearly suffocating me. This was Damien’s five-year "surprise," a meticulously planned public execution.

No one approached, no one offered a dry towel, and no one dared to speak up for me. They just watched from afar, as if enjoying a drama that had nothing to do with them.

The faces normally polite and courteous now displayed cold indifference and detachment. In the face of Damien’s power, my dignity meant nothing.

I forced myself to move, heading towards the exit. Each step felt like moving through lead.