The Wedding That Never Was Chapter 10

A week later, at dusk, inside the hospital ward.

I leaned against the headboard in a hospital gown, thin and pale.

The press conference never happened. Over the past few days, the storm around me had turned into a hurricane.

The Daily Flash was owned by Julian Croft—the man who stuffed his card in my bag.

Jessica was busy dealing with the agency executives. She could only visit me at night.

She forbid me from asking about the outside world.

“Ilara, just rest. We’ll clarify in a few days.”

Guilt flashed in Jessica’s eyes when she said that.

I guessed the agency was preparing to abandon me.

Jessica didn't want to tell me this mess, probably afraid I’d break again.

I nodded numbly. “Okay.”

After a silence, I said, “The podcast... I want to continue it.”

Jessica hesitated. “Maybe we should stop it?”

I looked at her stubbornly.

I had an exclusive late-night podcast channel. I used to sing a song there during my free time.

Although listeners sometimes called in, per company rules, I never answered.

Jessica couldn't refuse me, so she agreed.

On the channel, I finished singing a song.

Suddenly, a listener called. I glanced at Jessica, who had her back to me outside the recording booth, and pressed answer.

Unexpectedly, it was a young girl’s voice.

“Hello, Ilara. My name is Emily.”

“Ever since my brother was born, Mom and Dad don’t seem to love me anymore. Dad throws things at me and locks me up so I can’t go to school. Mom yells at me for eating my brother’s snacks.”

“Ilara, it hurts so much. If living is always going to hurt this much, I don’t want to live anymore...”

I paused for a moment, cleared my throat, and spoke softly. “Emily, life isn't always this painful.”

“You can’t die, because in the future, you will meet many important people and things. Someone will love you and treat you like a treasure.”

“But first, you must love yourself properly.”

As soon as I finished, the call abruptly hung up.

I sat there, stunned for a long time.

Then, my own phone rang. It was Adrian.

I answered hesitantly, but the voice on the other end hit me like a blow to the head.

“Miss Ilara, Adrian says his medicine is with you. Can you send someone to drop it off?”

“Our address is Room 1301 at the Coronado Hotel...”

It was Sarah.

My vision blurred.

I pinched my hand hard, fighting back sobs and heartache. “Where is Adrian? Let him speak to me.”

“Okay,” Sarah whined playfully. “Adrian, stop washing up! Miss Ilara wants to talk to you.”

The sound of rushing water stopped. Adrian’s voice soon sounded. “What is it?”

Hearing this, I couldn't hold back anymore. Tears fell.

I tried my hardest to keep my tone calm. “Adrian, do you remember our promise?”

“In two days, I turn thirty.”

Ten years ago, he swore, “Ilara, let’s get married when we’re thirty.”

Back then, I smiled, eyes curved like crescents. “Okay, I’ll only love you until I’m thirty.”

“If you don’t marry me by then, I won’t want you anymore!”

Adrian paused for a while, not answering.

Hearing the silence on the other end, I forced a bitter smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to force you to marry me.”

“Spend one last birthday with me, okay? Tomorrow night at nine. I’ll wait for you at our first home.”

Sarah was urging him in the background. Adrian suppressed the uneasiness in his heart and spoke flatly. “Okay, I know.”

I hung up and left the station alone.

It was late, and the streets were empty.

I wrapped myself up tight so no one could recognize me.

My shadow looked lonely.

I walked into a cake shop and chose a cream cake I liked.

I wandered around until I reached a dilapidated apartment building.

Climbing to the top floor, I used the rusty key in my pocket to open the lock.

The room was covered in dust, showing no one had been here for a long time.

I put down the cake and cleaned the entire apartment alone.

As if Adrian and I had never left.

I waited there from dark until dawn, and from dawn until dark again.

The clock pointed to eleven-thirty at night. Only half an hour left of my birthday.

Adrian still hadn't appeared.

I stuck the candles in and lit them.

Then I used the landline in the apartment to call Adrian.

It rang for a long time. No answer.

Bitterness filled my heart. “I wanted to hear you say Happy Birthday one last time!”

I slumped onto the table, tears falling violently. “Adrian, you broke your promise again!”

Since moving out of here, Adrian cared less and less about me.

Once, twice, three times...

Until I had to get used to it. Until I lost count.

Now, I had to admit, the Adrian who once had only me in his eyes didn't love me anymore.

After a long time, I looked up.

I clasped my hands and made a wish.

“I hope in the next life, Ilara can live a simpler, happier life.”

After speaking, I opened my eyes and blew out the candles.

The next instant, I stood up and walked to the balcony.

Behind me sat the untouched cake.

Walking onto the balcony, I opened the recording app on my phone and quietly told a story.

“Once there was a little girl. Her mother was a gambling addict and always beat her and her sister. Back then, she swore she would make a lot of money.”

“Later she became a big star. But the sister she always protected started hating her after getting a boyfriend.”

“They treated her like an ATM. They only wanted money, never showing a bit of care.”

“Until she met a boy who loved her. He said when the girl turned thirty, they would get married.”

Speaking to this point, my eyes turned red bit by bit.

“That girl is me. I’m sorry to all my fans. I’m really tired...”

“I can’t wait until thirty anymore...”

I hummed a song softly and sent the message to my podcast channel.

The despair surrounding my heart was like insects gnawing away, cutting my heart like a knife.

The wind on the rooftop was strong. I opened my arms.

In the wind, I jumped.

Bang—

Time stopped at 11:58 PM.

Ilara Vaughn died in the last two minutes of her 29th year.

Two minutes away from 30.

And in the last two minutes of the ten years she promised Adrian Hayes.

Adrian sat in a military Humvee, the mountain road bumping beneath the wheels.

He glanced at his watch, frowning deeply.

The soldier beside him asked, “Colonel, you just finished the mission. Why the rush to get back?”

Adrian felt unexplained heart palpitations but couldn't find the cause.

After a silence, he said deeply, “Today is my fiancée’s thirtieth birthday. I promised to spend it with her.”

The soldier paused, surprised, but said nothing.

Looking at the pitch-black mountain road that seemed endless, Adrian unbuttoned his collar in irritation.

He rolled down the window, but the sullen night wind brought no relief.

Seeing this, the soldier turned on the car radio.

Soft music played.

But a few seconds later, the music stopped abruptly, replaced by the host’s choking voice.

“Early this morning, famous pop singer Ilara Vaughn jumped to her death from an apartment in Los Angeles after releasing a suspected suicide note...”