Three years after Adam ended things without a word, I still couldn’t move on. Then he started dating my ex-friend, Miranda—betrayal that stung even more. I avoided dating, haunted by our past and his sudden silence.
Out of nowhere, Adam’s mother, Lena, called. We were never close, so I was shocked when she asked me to design her wedding dress. Despite my hesitation, I agreed—maybe out of curiosity, or maybe because a part of me still cared.
I poured my heart into the dress. But when I arrived at the wedding venue, I froze. The banner didn’t have Lena’s name—it had mine. Adam appeared, full of regret, and confessed everything: Miranda had manipulated him with an old video, making him believe I didn’t want a family. He left without asking me, only to learn the truth too late.
He proposed then and there, in front of everyone. And despite everything, I said yes.
It turned out Lena had orchestrated it all—because she knew we belonged together. I slipped into the dress I’d unknowingly made for myself and married the man I never stopped loving.
That night, standing on the balcony, Adam held my hand and whispered, “This time, I’ll get it right.”
And for the first time in years, I finally believed him.
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