When LOVE IS TOO LATE

After chasing Zander Hawthorne for 5 years, I finally realized it was pointless.

I gave up on him and got together with Lucian Everhart, who adored me. Lucian lit up the entire city with fireworks and bought an island to propose to me.

But just before our wedding, he disappeared. When I found him, I overheard him sneering to someone, "I only pursued Claire to spite Zander . Once I got her, it felt meaningless."

"But I couldn't let it go, so I decided to ditch the wedding to humiliate her. Isn't that fun?" So, I called off the wedding before he could, making him the laughingstock of the entire city.

Word on the street was that the ever-proud Lucian Everhart scoured every corner of the city, but his runaway bride was nowhere to be found.

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A month ago, Lucian disappeared. I searched the entire city for him but came up empty. On the seventh day, I got word that he had been seen in San Francisco. I flew there overnight and finally tracked him down to an exclusive private club. As I was about to knock on the door to the private room, I heard a familiar, mocking laugh. It was Lucian. My hand froze on the door handle as I listened to him chatting with his friends, his tone light and dripping with sarcasm.

"I only went after Claire to piss off Zander. Once I got her, she turned out to be pretty boring. Honestly, after being with her, she’s nothing special."

He didn’t seem drunk at all; in fact, he was disturbingly sober. Yet, the cruel words that came out of his mouth were like daggers. Around him, laughter erupted, filled with insinuations. I stood there, feeling like I had been struck by lightning, my heart pounded as if it had been hit with a sledgehammer.

"Leave it to Lucian to bring down that unattainable flower," someone remarked.

Lucian seemed to bask in the praise, a satisfied smile spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with smug delight. He continued, "You wouldn’t know it, but she was crazy about Zander, like she would die for him. But she's pure to a fault, which is a real shame…”

"What's a shame?"

Lucian slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, his gaze filled with a mix of mockery and regret. "It's a shame that while I’m her first man, I’m not her first love."

"She loved Zander for 5 years. Who knows if her heart is really clean?"

"If it weren't for being mortal enemies with Zander, I wouldn’t have bothered with this whole charade of playing the devoted, silent guardian."

Someone teased, "You’ve had her for 5 years now, Lucian. Why the sudden sentimental talk?"

Lucian’s face tightened with irritation. "Chasing her for so long, putting in so much effort, and in the end, feeling unfulfilled and resentful. It’s like pouring everything into a bottomless pit and getting nothing back."

The crowd kept goading, "She’s been going crazy looking for you. You've been gone for days. Aren’t you worried?"

Lucian took a deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke with a sneer. "Isn't it fun to see her humiliated by a runaway groom?"

His expression held no trace of guilt, pity, or love—only the satisfaction of revenge. My fingers dug into my palms as my heart felt like it was being pierced by needles. I had always believed Lucian was my savior and my endgame. I had made sure my feelings for him were genuine love, not just gratitude, before I agreed to be with him. That night, he was so happy he set off fireworks across the city.

After 5 years together, he bought an island in my name and proposed under a sky full of lanterns. I thought it was love, pure romance. But now I realized it was all part of his revenge against Zander. Those years of devotion and support—were they all just an act?

I drifted into memories.

When I was twelve, I was brought back to the Xu family from a small southern town. I was nervous, full of inferiority and fear. Shen Zhoubai once shielded me from bullying, and from that moment, I fell hopelessly in love with him. I chased after him so blatantly that everyone knew.

But he only felt extreme disdain for me.

As days went by, I eventually saw the futility in my pursuit and chose to let go. That was when I noticed the ever-present, silent guardian by my side—Zander Hawthorne. His presence was like a warm ray of sunshine, quietly illuminating my dark life, helping me find inner peace and strength.

I’ll never forget the night it poured rain, and he held an umbrella for me. He said, “Claire, I don’t need you to see me. I just want you to be free and follow your heart.”

I finally let go of my love for Zander, clearing my heart, and welcomed Lucian. I gradually fell for his tenderness, step by step.

When I started dreaming of a sweet future with him, I never imagined that I was giving him the perfect opportunity to stab my heart, over and over, each cut deeper than the last. My nose tingled, tears of pain uncontrollably filled my eyes. I quickly wiped away the tear that escaped.

Inside, the voices continued, offering him advice. “If you want to hurt a woman, do it when she’s happiest. Make her fall from the highest point—that’s the real fun.”

“Exactly. So, Lucian, you should go back, help her pick out a wedding dress, send out invitations with her. Act like everything is perfect, and then on the wedding day, leave her humiliated and alone. I bet Claire would go insane.”

The laughter was nauseating. I held back the urge to vomit, waiting for Lucian’s response. I desperately hoped to hear him say, “Come on, I love Claire.” Or even, “This is too much to do to any girl.”

But after a moment of silence, I heard Lucian’s calm, cold voice agree, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”

Boundless fury welled up inside me, nearly suffocating me. I forced a bitter smile, but the tears still fell uncontrollably. Lucian, you want to play? Fine. I’ll join your game. I can’t wait to see your face on our wedding day when you discover I’ve run away.

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The lightning flashed incessantly, and the rain poured down, drenching me completely. Like a drowned rat, I stumbled back to the bridal suite that Lucian Everhart and I were supposed to share. Lightning illuminated every corner of the room, casting light on the wedding photos and countless sweet memories on the walls. Looking at those smiling faces, I cried and laughed, and laughed and cried.

Drinking the bitter wine, I felt myself getting tipsy, slipping into hallucinations of Zander's 17-year-old face.

I saw that freezing night again. I was standing on the corner, waiting for Zander for what felt like forever. He promised to have dinner with me, but never showed up. The rain began to fall steadily, and I still held on to a glimmer of hope, praying he would appear, but he never did.

Cold wind mixed with rain slapped my face, turning my world gray. Then, Lucian appeared in the rain. He walked up to me silently, opened his umbrella, and shielded me from the downpour. Rainwater streamed down the edges, soaking his shoulders, yet he stood firmly by my side, waiting with me. His silent, warm presence was like a ray of light, brightening my gloomy heart.

I think it was from that moment that my heart began to change.

Looking back, it's laughable how beautiful it once was and how absurd and ridiculous it is now.

Did he ever truly love me? Were those sweet moments, those tender glances, all part of a grand act of revenge? Were his every gentle gesture and heartfelt declaration just a lie? Even now, I can’t believe he could treat me so cruelly, weaving a web of deceit with fake love. I foolishly thought I was the happiest woman in the world.

The first rays of dawn pierced through the curtains, shining into my eyes. It was morning, and I knew I had to wake up.

I took out the gifts Lucian had given me over the years, touching each one carefully before cutting them up one by one. Strangely, I wasn't thinking about anything, yet the tears kept flowing.

Finally, I took out the couture wedding dress. We had picked it out together, the lace and pearls delicately sewn by hand, making it a work of art. The soft fabric shimmered under the light, each detail a symbol of the designer's blessing for a happy marriage.

I had imagined countless times how beautiful it would be to walk down the aisle in this dress, a pinnacle of our love.

I laid the dress out on the floor, gently running my fingers over the fabric, then picked up the scissors and made a long, jagged cut. Our love, like this dress, once torn, could never be mended back to its original state.

After dealing with everything, I put these things in the study, a place Lucian seldom visited. I lay in bed, unable to sleep, and scrolled through short videos. I stumbled upon a suggested profile named "Me, Who Loves Lucian." On a whim, I clicked on it.

It was a woman's record of her secret love for a man. The latest post had a location tag in San Francisco. The caption read, "The man I've loved for ten years is getting married next month, but I still want to muster the courage to confess. Wish me luck." In her picture, I saw a familiar hand. The wedding ring on the ring finger was unmistakable. I recognized it immediately—it was Lucian's hand.