Chapter 3

A week later, Julian competed in the Tri-State Wedding Industry Gala.

Thanks to his polished charm and stage presence, he took home the Master of Ceremonies Trophy.

During the acceptance speech, the host asked him who he wanted to thank the most.

Julian held the golden microphone with both hands. "First, thank you to every couple who trusted me with their special day. And a very special shoutout to our talented new event coordinator, Chloe."

The spotlight swung across the ballroom, locking onto Chloe.

Julian locked eyes with her, his tone brimming with admiration. "She is a creative visionary. Her ideas elevated my scripts to another level this past week. Thank you, Chloe."

The ballroom erupted into thundering applause.

I was sitting in the third row, clapping right along with everyone else.

Nobody in that room knew that when Julian landed his very first gig, I was the one who stayed up all night with him rewriting his cue cards.

Nobody knew that half the sentimental vows that moved hundreds of brides to tears had been drafted by my pen.

After the ceremony, Julian found me holding his trophy.

I asked him softly, "Why didn't you mention me up there?"

Julian blinked, then chuckled as if I were being adorable. "Are you really picking a fight over an award speech?"

"Stella, they're outsiders. You have to thank outsiders publicly. You're the closest person in my life—why would I treat you like a stranger with formal formalities?"

I stared blankly at his handsome face.

That was the first time I realized that being the "closest person" was just the perfect excuse to be ignored.

Or maybe it wasn't even an excuse.

He took me for granted because he knew I'd always yield.

He intentionally walked all over my boundaries because he knew a few sweet words would patch everything up.

I nodded quietly and dropped the subject.

In my mind, my decision was made: after our final gig over the Labor Day holiday weekend, I would end it completely.

The afternoon before Labor Day, we arrived at the venue to run through cues with the couple.

Unexpectedly, the bride and groom got held up by an emergency and couldn't make the rehearsal.

Standing at the altar steps, Chloe looked troubled. "If we don't rehearse this run-through, what if we mess up the timing tomorrow?"

Julian stacked his notes neatly. "Then we'll stand in for them."

Chloe pointed a manicured finger at herself. "You and me?"

She laughed nervously, casting a sidelong glance in my direction. "Isn't that a little weird? Stella's right over there. What if she gets jealous?"

Julian glanced at me with unwavering certainty. "This is work. Stella isn't the kind of person to throw a tantrum over professional duties."

Taking Chloe's wrist, Julian led her onto the floral stage.

They stood face-to-face under the archway, gazing into each other's eyes. It was a picture of tender romance. It made my eyes sting.

They walked through the ring exchange, and then came the vows.

Julian looked down at Chloe, his voice dropping into a deep, soulful cadence.

"Before I met you, I never knew what it felt like to truly crave a home..."

My breath hitched in my chest.

Julian continued, "I want to watch the sun rise and set with you. I want to grow old by your side..."

Those were the vows I wrote three years ago.

Back then, Julian had asked me offhandedly what I'd say to him if we stood at our own altar.

I hadn't answered out loud. Instead, I poured my heart onto paper, penning the promises I dreamed of making to him.

And now, standing on the very altar I had envisioned a thousand times, he was reciting those sacred words to another woman.

A sharp, searing pain tore through my chest. My trembling finger pressed the stop button on the video recorder.

If this were the old Stella, I would have stormed up there, screaming, demanding to know why my love letters were coming out of his mouth for someone else.

Now, I felt completely numb.

For five years, I had waited.

Waited for him to have time. Waited for him to keep his promises. Waited for a wedding that was never going to happen.

Looking back, the entire journey was a joke.

I had to face the reality: he had changed.

He was no longer the boy who, five years ago, drove six hours across state lines in the middle of the night just to help me capture a sunrise over the mountains.

Five years down the drain.

Losing five years was painful, but it beat wasting an entire lifetime.

I let out a long breath, packed my camera into its hard case, and slipped quietly out of the venue.

I went back to our apartment to pack.

There wasn't much to take: a few changes of clothes, my passport and documents, and the old camera body that had been with me since college.

Back at the venue, the rehearsal finished. Julian, Chloe, and the rest of the crew sat down at a nearby diner for lunch.

A sound technician teased Julian, "Hey Julian, you and Stella have been going strong for five years now. When are we getting wedding invites?"

Chloe's fork paused in mid-air. Her eyes darted straight to Julian.

Julian took a sip of his soda, his tone casual. "Not anytime soon. We're not in any rush."

Another colleague laughed, "Better put a ring on it, man, or someone else will sweep her off her feet."

Julian chuckled softly, brimming with unshakable confidence. "Stella isn't that type of girl. She'd never leave me."

Saying that, he finally glanced around the diner and realized my seat was empty.

He set his fork down, scanning the corner of the venue where I usually set up my gear.

Just an hour ago, I was standing there adjusting the focus rings.

Now, the corner was dead quiet.

A sudden knot tightened in his stomach. He pulled out his phone, only to see the unread message I had sent before leaving.

[Julian, we're done. Let's break up.]