After Eight Failed Weddings

My fingertips brushed the pearl embroidery on the hem of the wedding gown, the bridal boutique mirror reflecting my pale face. This is the eighth wedding Harvey Chow and I have been preparing. The invitations from the previous seven attempts still lay at the bottom of the drawer, each stamped with a different date. Behind every date stood his widowed sister-in-law, Rachel Watson, and her son, Carol. The first delay came because Rachel said Carol had a fever; Harvey rushed overnight to accompany them to the emergency room. When he returned, the wedding date had already passed. He only said, "It's not easy for Rachel to raise the child alone." The second time was when Rachel slipped at home. Though it was just a minor bruise, Harvey insisted on staying at her house to care for her, saying, "My brother left early; I have to bear his responsibilities." The third time, the fourth time, the fifth time... up to the seventh, I watched the dates crossed off on the calendar, the hope in my heart wrinkling slowly like paper soaked by rain. Today is the eighth time. Just as the makeup artist finished applying my lipstick, my mobile phone rang—it was Harvey Chow's number. I took a deep breath and answered, hearing his hurried voice through the receiver: "Juliette, Carol is in trouble. I have to go check on her." My hand froze mid-air, the lipstick drawing a crooked line at the corner of my mouth. "Harvey," I tried to keep my voice steady, "Today is our wedding. What happened to Carol?" "Rachel Watson is an adult. She can call an ambulance or ask a neighbor for help." "How can you be so cold-blooded?" Harvey Chow's voice instantly rose, "Carol is my nephew. If anything were to happen to him, how could I face my brother?" My knuckles whitened from gripping the mobile phone, the hem of the wedding gown crushed beneath my feet, wrinkled into a lump. "Cold-blooded?" I repeated the word, my eyes burning, "Our wedding has been postponed seven times, each time because of Rachel Watson. Have you ever thought about me?" "Are you really that desperate to get married?" Harvey Chow's tone was full of impatience, "It's not like you'll die if you don't get married, Juliette. Can you be a little more sensible?" The word "sensible" stabbed at my heart like a needle. I looked at myself in the mirror, clad in the wedding gown, and suddenly felt ridiculous. Before I could say another word, Rachel Watson's tearful voice came through the receiver: "Harvey, come quickly—Carol seems to be struggling to breathe..." Harvey Chow didn't utter another word and hung up immediately. I stood still, staring at the bride in the mirror, my tears finally falling. The door of the bridal boutique swung open. Harvey Chow rushed in; he didn't even glance at me, heading straight for the coat on the sofa. "Harvey Chow," I called after him, my voice trembling, "Are you really going to leave?" He looked back at me, eyes thick with impatience: "Juliette, stop making a scene. Carol is still waiting for me." "Making a scene?" I laughed, but the tears kept flowing, "Our wedding—do you see it as just a scene?" I slid the diamond ring off my finger—the one he had saved three months' salary to buy. When he first put it on my hand, he said he would love me forever. "Harvey Chow, let's break up." After saying that, I threw the diamond ring away with force. The diamond ring traced a silver arc through the air before landing on the ground with a sharp, clear sound.