The Regret of Love Rises with the Wind

At dawn, I was abruptly awakened by the ringing of my phone. Soren's name flashed across the screen, a reminder that even my sleep couldn't be free from him. I answered, my voice heavy with the remnants of exhaustion.

"Wendy, are you awake?" His tone was light, as if the events of last night were nothing more than a bad dream. "I ordered your favorite soup. I won't be coming back today; something urgent came up at the company. We'll have to reschedule the wedding photoshoot."

I felt a hollow ache in my chest, but my voice remained even. "Okay," I replied, unsure of what to feel anymore.

There was a brief pause on his end, as if he hadn't expected me to agree so easily. He cleared his throat, then added awkwardly, "You don't need to take what happened last night to heart. I already apologized to Ziva on your behalf."

The calmness with which he delivered that line sent a sharp pang through me. He had apologized for me—the woman he was supposed to be marrying—to Ziva, the one who had taken my place in his heart. I couldn't find the strength to argue, so I simply repeated, "Okay."

Soren hesitated, clearly confused by my lack of resistance. He quickly added, "You know, the wedding is just a formality. Our relationship is so strong that we don't need these things to prove anything. Let's keep it simple."

"Okay," I murmured, letting out a bitter smile that he couldn't see.

Keep it simple. Sure, I thought, there would be no marriage certificate, no wedding photos, no officiant and soon enough, no bride.

After hanging up, I stared at the calendar hanging on the wall, its once-bright and joyful reminders now mocking me. I picked up a marker and crossed out the [Wedding photoshoot] task with one swift stroke. Each red slash felt like a wound, deepening the chasm between us.

Soren had always been too busy to notice the little things I cared about. I had filled the calendar with activities we were supposed to do during our wedding preparation, hoping it would bring us closer—small wishes that had meant everything to me. But one by one, each wish had been crossed out by thick, uncaring strokes. Now, they were nothing more than regrets, unspoken and unseen by the one who mattered.

I couldn't focus on him anymore. I submitted my resignation at work, determined to close this chapter of my life. Over the next few days, I arranged farewell meetings with colleagues and informed my friends that the wedding was canceled.

When I told them, they weren't surprised. One friend, in particular, looked at me with a mix of pity and sadness. "We had a feeling something was off," she said, pulling up Soren's social media on her phone. "Recently, he's been spending all his time with Ziva. People who don't know might think the woman in his posts is you, but we recognized her immediately."

Soren, who had never once posted a picture of me in all our years together, had now filled his social media with photos of Ziva's silhouette. They went to amusement parks, tried on dresses at bridal shops and watched the sunrise together on the beach. His love for her was out in the open, unapologetic. Everyone could see it—except for me. I had been blocked from his posts, as if my presence in his life no longer mattered.

My friend squeezed my hand. "Wendy, don't be too upset. Ziva can't compare to you. Soren will realize what he's lost when he finally sees her true nature."

I smiled weakly. "It's fine. I stopped caring a long time ago."

In truth, I had stopped caring the moment I realized that Soren wasn't mine anymore. He hadn't been for a long time. Now, as I looked out at the bustling streets below, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. In just a few days, I would be gone. There was no point in holding on to the past.

When Soren finally came back after days of absence, I remained indifferent. He walked in, his phone glued to his hand, glancing around the living room as if he barely recognized it. "Why does the house look so empty?" he asked, frowning. "Didn't you decorate?"

"You said to keep it simple," I reminded him, my voice flat.

He paused, his gaze drifting toward the calendar on the wall. The large countdown "7" stared back at him. "Time flies," he muttered. "Only a week left until our wedding."

Without a word, I tore off two pages from the calendar and crumpled them in my hand. "Our wedding is in five days."

He didn't notice the wishes written on those pages. [Ride the Ferris wheel together] and [Watch the sunrise and sunset together.] But I knew he wouldn't. Soren had stopped paying attention to anything related to me a long time ago.

At that moment, my phone rang, my mother's name flashing on the screen. I excused myself to the balcony, keeping the conversation brief. When I returned, Soren was still scrolling through his phone, as if nothing had changed.

He glanced up, curiosity briefly flickering in his eyes. "What's going on? I thought I heard something about a visa?"

I tensed but kept my voice steady. "Nothing, just work."

He shrugged, uninterested. "Okay, but don't bother planning any honeymoon. I'm too busy and I don't have time for a trip."

I nodded. "I know." The truth was, I didn't want a honeymoon either. Not with him.

Sensing the growing awkwardness between us, I pulled out the pearl necklace I had found the other night. As soon as he saw it, Soren's eyes lit up with relief. "So it was with you," he said, taking it from my hand. "I've been looking for it everywhere."

"I know. I saw your post online," I replied coolly.

Soren didn't meet my gaze, too focused on inspecting the necklace. His phone pinged again—a sound I had grown accustomed to. Ziva's special ringtone. He glanced at the screen, then quickly pocketed his phone, rising to his feet.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. "I've just been so busy lately. Once everything settles down, I promise I'll make you the happiest Mrs. Maxwell."

If this had been before, I would've felt a flicker of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, he still cared. But now, those words rang hollow. I watched him leave without a word, my heart no longer heavy with disappointment, just numb.

Time slipped by quickly. Soon, it was the day before the wedding. I stood in front of the calendar, staring at the last wish left unfulfilled: [Have a family reunion dinner.]

It was a dream I had held on to for over twenty years. But I knew it was a dream that would never come true. My mother had never forgiven my father and I had never forgiven Soren.

That evening, I rode the Ferris wheel alone, watching the sunset cast its golden glow over the city. The skyline, once so familiar, now felt distant. As the Ferris wheel turned, I let go of every memory I had made in this place, allowing them to drift away like the soft evening breeze.

Meanwhile, Ziva posted a new status, her smiling face beaming as she sat beside Soren at a large family dinner. My father sat across from them, watching as Soren served her food. The caption read: [Both families meet to discuss final wedding details.]

I wasn't angry. I was simply amused. Whose wedding was this, really? Mine, or Ziva's?

I blocked and deleted her, a sense of finality settling over me. I wanted to message Soren, to say something—anything—but after typing and erasing countless words, I gave up. Just as I was about to leave the Ferris wheel, my phone rang.

It was Soren.

"Where are you?" he asked, his voice urgent. "Why aren't you at home? Send me your location. I miss you."