Chapter 3
As night fell and I had just settled into bed, Simon slid over, pressing himself against me.
The moment his hand reached under my shirt, I grabbed it.
"I'm a bit tired," I said, my voice flat.
I was facing away from him, struggling to suppress my disgust as I spoke.
Honestly, I knew he had plenty of women on the side over the years.
All of them were a little like who I used to be; maybe they looked like me, acted like me, or even sounded like me.
I knew Simon didn't love any of them, and he didn't love me either. What he really loved was the Charlotte in his memories, the sunny, fearless girl who would risk everything for him.
Simon withdrew his hand, a hint of irritation in his movements.
"Anyway, you'll be my wife in two days. I'll spare you tonight," he said.
"Alright," I replied.
I just gave a faint hum in response, barely audible.
In the dead silence of the room, Simon still didn't notice anything was off about me.
After a long pause, he sat up straight.
Simon said, "I suddenly remembered there's something I need to handle at the office. The wedding dress and shoes I ordered will be delivered to the studio at two tomorrow.
He paused for a moment. "Just meet me at the studio tomorrow."
His tone was full of annoyance, just like before, hoping I'd ask him to stay, waiting for me to make the first move.
But I wasn't going to do that anymore.
No matter how hard one tried, one couldn't keep someone who didn't want to stay.
Simon finished getting dressed, and just as he reached for the doorknob, I called out to him.
"Simon, would you mind if I got rid of this scar?" I asked.
Simon paused for a second, then a big smile broke out on his face as he nodded.
"Absolutely," he replied.
Maybe realizing he was getting a bit too worked up, Simon calmed himself and gently squatted down in front of me.
"I just want you to look absolutely gorgeous in your wedding dress," he said, his voice soft.
The way he gazed at me, so full of affection, made me laugh despite myself.
At first, every time Simon saw my scar, he genuinely cried.
But as time went on, those tears turned into irritation, impatience, and even annoyance.
Every time he looked at that scar, it brought back memories of the things he tried to forget and reminded him of the debt he owed me.
He kept urging me to have it removed, but I couldn't bring myself to agree.
But I never realized that by refusing, I was slowly becoming a living reminder of his repressed past.
The moment the door closed, I lost control. My tears burst forth, burying themselves in the pillow.
Early the next morning, I headed to the skin clinic.
On my way there, I got a message from Nina.
Nina sent: [Charlotte, I'm going to the studio today to try on your wedding dress and shoes for you. You don't mind, do you?]
My fingers trembled as I read it, but I didn't reply. Instead, I just took screenshots of each message, planning to bundle them up and give them to Simon as a gift when I finally left.
Lying on the operating table, the icy flow of anesthesia through the needle sent a chill through my body, making me shiver.
"Let's get started," I said quietly.
As I closed my eyes, memories of Simon and me at eighteen flashed through my mind.
If it were Simon at eighteen, he'd probably feel really bad for me right now.
The surgery went smoothly, but it hurt like hell.
But seeing my skin restored to its smoothness, I couldn't help but smile.
From now on, not a single mark of Simon would remain, neither on my body nor in my heart.
After the surgery, I got another message from Nina. This time, she sent me a photo.
In the picture, Simon was in a suit, and Nina was in a wedding dress. They looked so perfectly matched, it was almost blinding.
If one didn't look closely, he'd really think Simon had finally found his dream, an eighteen-year-old Charlotte.
I couldn't help but curl my lips into a mocking smile.
At 2:30 PM sharp, I showed up at Simon's studio.
He was reviewing his presentation slides, completely absorbed, his face full of that dreamy look people got when they were picturing their perfect life.
When Simon saw me walk in, he waved me over with a big grin, then handed me the wedding dress that was hanging nearby.
"Charlotte, hurry up and try it on. I spent over two weeks designing this dress, and I even shelled out a fortune to have it made by a top designer overseas. You're going to look absolutely stunning in it," he said.
I turned the dress over in my hands, noticing the ripped lining, clearly Nina's handiwork. Smiling, I glanced at Simon.
"Simon, why's there a tear in the dress? Don't tell me someone else tried it on before me?" I said.
For a moment, guilt flashed across Simon's eyes.
Simon said, "Of course not.
"This dress was made just for you. There's only one in the world; why would I let anyone else wear it?"
He instinctively clenched his fist.
It was a clear sign he was feeling guilty.
"I'll just try the other one," I said, just pointing at another dress.
I went for a strapless gown with a long train.
Simon's brows knitted together.
"But Charlotte, didn't you say you only wanted to wear the dress I designed?" Simon said.
I said, glancing at him, "But the dress is torn.
"You wouldn't want me showing up at our wedding in a ripped dress, right?"
Simon realized he had no excuse, so he reluctantly nodded, agreeing to let me change the dress.
When I walked out in the strapless gown with the long train, Simon was stunned for a moment.
But almost instantly, that amazement faded, and regret flashed across his face.
Somewhere along the line, Simon's so-called love had become nothing but chains holding me back.
He wanted me to always be that eighteen-year-old Charlotte, obedient, doing whatever he wanted, walking the path he laid out for me.
But I was twenty-five now.
Simon walked over, just about to compliment me, but when his gaze fell on my chest, he stopped in his tracks.
"You... you really got rid of the scar?" he stammered.
His fingers trembled as they lightly traced my collarbone.
I nodded, spun around in front of the mirror, feeling pretty pleased with myself and acting like it was no big deal.
I said, "Didn't I ask you yesterday?
"You totally supported me."
As soon as I finished speaking, Simon's eyes suddenly reddened.
He opened his mouth, but the words just wouldn't come.