My Best Friend's Last Wish is to Marry my Boyfriend

When I looked up, my expression was flat, my gaze emotionless. "What is it?" I asked.

Rey looked mildly annoyed, though he didn’t seem to know why. Before he could say more, his phone rang again. Glancing at the screen, he looked back up at me. “Trina, I’ll be on a business trip for a few days. I won’t be back for a while.”

“You take care,” I replied casually, thinking that his absence would make it easier for me to visit the Hall family and say my goodbyes.

The next morning, I gathered the gifts I’d prepared and made my way to the Hall family home. When Mrs. Hall heard I was returning to Seattle, her eyes filled with concern.

“Trina, what happened? You’ve settled so well here in Boston—why leave so suddenly?”

Mr. Hall, on the other hand, slammed the table in frustration. “And where is Rey? Why didn’t he come with you? Did he mistreat you?”

I hesitated, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them everything. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve been away from home for so long—I’d like to go back and reconnect.”

Mrs. Hall looked at me with concern. "Does Rey know you’re planning to go back?”

To keep things simple, I nodded. “Yes, he knows.”

With that, everyone seemed to understand there was no convincing me to stay. After exchanging a few more words, I stood to leave. Just then, the front door swung open, and there stood Rey—Elena beside him, her expression calm and assured.

“Trina, what a surprise to see you here,” she said with a smile, as if she were already a part of the Hall family.

I held her gaze, my voice steady. “I don’t need to explain to you why I’m here.” With that, I brushed past Rey, heading for the door.

Realizing I was leaving, Rey quickly followed, his voice urgent. “Trina, you’ve got this all wrong. I only brought Elena here so my parents could help her find a good doctor.” He paused, as if trying to appeal to reason. “She’s also your best friend, after all. You’re not upset, are you?”

I paused for a brief moment, his words fading as memories flooded back—his promise to me under the cherry tree when he was eighteen. He had said that marrying me was his lifelong dream.

He once promised he’d bring me home to meet his parents as his future wife. But here he was, introducing another woman to the Hall family while telling me he was on a business trip.

Seeing the anticipation in Rey’s eyes, I replied calmly, “Why would I care? I’ve never been the type to hold grudges.”

People who aren’t worth it don’t deserve my concern.

Rey looked momentarily taken aback. “Trina, do you really not care at all?”

He was impossible to please. When he and Elena were close before, he called me narrow-minded for being upset. Now that I chose to ignore it, he still wasn’t satisfied.

I saw no point in explaining myself. Without another word, he leaned down and pecked me on the forehead. “Be good and wait for me at home,” he said softly.

As the elevator doors closed, I wiped my forehead. The gesture left me feeling sick. On our tenth anniversary, Rey had also dodged me with some excuse about a business trip.

That night, I received a video call request from Elena.

When the call connected, I could hear the lively sounds of a wedding celebration, and it slowly dawned on me: the wedding was Rey and Elena’s.

Three months ago, Elena had announced her terminal diagnosis on social media with a post that read, “Before I die, I want a wedding with the person I love most.”

At the time, I hadn’t sensed anything amiss between us and even left a comment asking who this special person was. She had simply replied, “You’ll find out when the time comes.”

Learning the truth felt like a knife twisting in my chest, leaving me breathless with pain. Desperately, I dialed Rey’s number, calling again and again, wanting to understand why he had done this to me. But that night, he didn’t answer a single call. I cried until I passed out, while he was spending his “wedding night” with Elena.

Thankfully, it would all be over soon.

Later, after I had returned home, Elena called.

“Trina, I’m really sorry. I honestly didn’t expect to run into you today.”

I just let out a bitter laugh and said nothing in return.

Elena took a deep breath, her tone laced with envy. “Mrs. Hall is so wonderful. She was so kind and caring toward me,” she said. “They even said they’d do everything they could to find the right doctor for me.”

She paused, then lowered her voice. “Trina, why couldn’t it be me marrying into the Hall family?”

It could be her, of course—if she had the ability to make it so. “Well, let me wish you two a happy marriage in advance,” I replied coolly, before hanging up, tempted to block her number entirely. Maybe that would stop her from reaching out just to flaunt her place in my life.

But as I was about to do so, I accidentally opened her social media feed and discovered something infuriating—she had stolen my design draft and submitted it for a competition. The same draft I’d created as a birthday gift for Rey. My hands shook with anger. He must have given it to her behind my back.

Trying to steady my racing heart, I took a deep breath, grabbed my copyright certificate, and filed a plagiarism report on the competition’s website against Elena’s entry.

After handling everything, my friend Celina, who co-owns the studio with me, called.

“Trina, what’s going on? Why are you suddenly pulling out your investment?” she asked.

Celina had always been a mutual friend of Elena and me, but she and Elena had never gotten along. I decided to tell her everything, including the fact that I was planning to get married.

When Celina heard, she was livid. “This Elena is unbelievable! Using her illness as an excuse to steal someone else’s man?”

“She’s probably faking it,” she added.

“I’m so angry! I’m calling her later to give her a piece of my mind!”

I couldn’t help but feel touched by her outrage, but I sighed. “Forget it. It’s not worth it. The wedding is happening soon, and I just want to move on.”

At that moment, I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.

Rey’s voice suddenly rang out. “Wedding? What wedding?”