Before the Wedding, the Dutiful Bride Flew to Iceland Alone Chapter 09

Before the Wedding, the Dutiful Bride Flew to Iceland Alone Chapter 09

It was snowing in Snowcrest that day.

I’d just finished shooting a time-lapse of the northern lights, and my fingers were numb from the

cold.

On the other end of the line, his voice came low and rough.

“Chloe, I know anything I say now is too late.”

“But I regret everything.”

“I think about it every day. What if, that night at the party, I hadn’t stopped at ‘sensible’?”

“What if I’d gone after you?”

“What if I hadn’t taken down the photo wall?”

“What if I’d seen how much I was hurting you…?”

By the end, his voice was barely steady. “Would we have ended up here?”

I looked out across the snowfields.

“Miles.”

“There are no what-ifs.”

The line went quiet.

I kept going.

“You didn’t break my heart all at once.”

“You did it a hundred small times.”

“And I didn’t stop loving you all at once either.”

“It happened one disappointment at a time, until there was nothing left to hold on to.”

“So your regret is yours to carry now.”

“It has nothing to do with me anymore.”

On the other end, Miles’s voice broke on my name.

“Chloe…”

I hung up.

After that, I barely heard anything about him.

What I heard came through mutual friends, and only in pieces.

He’d started withdrawing from our old social circle.

He never spoke to Serena again.

His parents set him up on dates, and he turned every one of them down.

He’d finally become the man I once wished he was.

He was considerate now, respectful, careful about boundaries.

But he was no longer the Miles I wanted.

A year later, my documentary won an award.

The ceremony took place in Evergreen City.

When the camera panned to me, I was wearing a long white dress.

“Thank you, Snowcrest.”

“Thank you to the wind and the snow for helping me find my way back to myself.”

When the applause broke out, I thought of the girl I used to be, the sensible one who spent years

swallowing her own pain so no one else would feel uncomfortable.

She didn’t have to do that anymore.

After the ceremony, I walked outside.

The stars shimmered on the horizon.

The wind hit me, sharp and cold.

Yet I felt free.

My phone lit up with one last message from Miles.

[Congratulations.]

[Chloe, you finally found yourself.]

I read it and quietly deleted it.

Then I lifted my head and walked toward the open night.

From here on, the road was mine.

The world was wide open, and the snow fell freely.

I wouldn’t look back again.

The End