Chapter 12
Just moments before the ceremony was about to begin, a young boy came running into the grand hall with a cup of grape juice in his hands.
He wasn’t watching where he was going-until he collided headfirst into the bride.
Purple-red juice splashed across Scarlet’s pristine white gown, staining the delicate lace and silk in a vivid burst of color.
Scarlet let out a sharp, startled cry.
“My dress!”
Then, in a shrill voice full of irritation. “Whose brat is this?! Who let him in? Get him out of here-now!”
Her voice echoed harshly through the cathedral-like space.
Just then, Sterling stepped into the room, having heard the commotion.
But as he approached and caught sight of her expression-lips curled, brows furrowed in pure annoyance-his feet froze.
He couldn’t move.
In his memory, Scarlet was always the image of gentleness. Soft-spoken. Graceful. The kind of woman who smiled even
when things went wrong.
He had never seen her like this before. Harsh. Impatient. Almost… cold.
“Sterling?” she called sweetly, the very next second. “When did you get here? I didn’t even see you come in.”
He looked up again.
Gone was the scowl. Her face was all honeyed concern, her voice as light and sweet as ever. It was like watching
someone change masks.
“I heard your voice,” he replied slowly. “I came to check if you were alright.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said with a delicate wave of her hand. “A little grape juice, that’s all. I’ll go change. Wait for me here,
okay?”
“…Alright.”
Sterling nodded.
But something inside him didn’t sit right.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened-these brief, flickering moments when Scarlet felt… different. Slightly off. Not the girl he thought he knew.
And lately, without meaning to, his thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.
To her.
To Aurora.
He remembered the way she’d called him “brother-in-law” earlier that morning, her voice calm but her face pale as paper.
She’d handed him a small box, a wedding gift, before quietly turning to leave. He’d almost called out to her-but the words
had stuck in his throat.
Now, that box resurfaced in his mind.
Suddenly restless, he turned and headed toward the parking garage.
Sterling searched the backseat of the car and the compartments, rifling through everything-but the gift box was nowhere
to be found.
He called for his assistant.
“The box I gave you this morning-where is it?”
“You mean the one Miss Aurora gave you?”
Sterling’s brow furrowed. The assistant’s voice sounded hesitant.
“Yeah. That one. Where is it?”
“Well… Miss Scarlet said it probably wasn’t worth anything and told me to throw it away.”
“What?” Sterling’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief. “You just threw it out?”
The assistant flinched. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think…”
“Do you remember where you tossed it? Go find it. Now.”
“Yes, sir!”
The assistant sprinted off.
Sterling stood there, tension winding through his chest.
Ten minutes later, the man returned, breathless, cradling the box in his arms like something fragile.
He was about to hand it over-but stopped when Scarlet suddenly appeared.
Sterling’s assistant gave a small bow and slipped away quickly, box in hand.
“Sterling!” Scarlet chirped, walking toward him in a brand-new gown. “There you are. I was looking all over for you!”
She twirled, the train of her lavender dress catching the light like a shimmer of crushed amethysts.
“What do you think? Isn’t this one beautiful?”
Sterling stared at her quietly.
She looked radiant. Everything about her-the makeup, the dress, the flowers-was flawless.
But something still felt… wrong.
He remembered clearly: she’d once told him she hated the color purple.
So why wear it today, of all days?
The inconsistency nagged at him, like a thread unraveling from the edge of a tightly woven memory.
Still, he smiled.
“It’s beautiful. This color suits you.”
But the smile never reached his eyes.
Scarlet didn’t seem to notice. She was still admiring her reflection in a nearby mirror, fussing over her earrings.
The soft notes of a piano began to fill the hall.
The ceremony was starting.
The emcee stepped onto the stage, voice booming through the speakers as he welcomed the guests and began the
traditional introductions.
Scarlet looked elated, her hand slipping naturally into Sterling’s.
He walked beside her, fingers laced with hers, moving toward the stage.
But as they ascended the steps together, he suddenly froze.
Just for a second-one fleeting heartbeat-he saw not Scarlet standing beside him…
But Aurora.
Her eyes.
Her voice.
The way she used to look at him when he couldn’t see.
He stood motionless, staring forward, his mind blank and spinning.
“Sterling?” Scarlet whispered beside him. “What’s wrong?”
