It was a photo posted by Bruce.
In the image, he was adjusting a bridal veil on Kathy. The caption read: [This silly girl messed up again and sent her own wedding dress to the wrong person.]
My heart sank. At last, I had to face it—Bruce no longer loved me.
On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé had chosen to stand by another woman.
And that wedding dress? It had never been mine to wear.
Another vibration broke the silence.
A new message from Bruce: [Stop being so unreasonable. Kathy worked so hard for our wedding—can’t you be more understanding? If she hadn’t donated her kidney to me back then, I wouldn’t even be alive now. Without her, there’d be no me—and no you.”
My stomach twisted. I called him immediately.
“Bruce, it was me who donated the kidney.”
But before I could finish, he cut me off.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Weren’t you traveling back then? Do you think I don’t know? You’re so desperate for attention—it’s pathetic.”
He hung up.
I gripped the phone, stunned.
All this time, he had showered her with kindness because he believed it was Kathy who saved his life.
But it was me.
I had lied about traveling so he wouldn’t worry.
Now it didn’t matter.
Even if I told the truth, it wouldn’t erase the years of coldness and hurt.
I sent him one final message: [Let’s get a divorce.]
His reply came quickly.
Bruce: [Without the platform and resources I gave you, you’re nothing. Do you think you can survive without me?]
I stared at the screen, disappointed.
Back then, when the company was struggling, I had worked nights and days, rushing designs, attending meetings, pushing us forward.
My designs had set the foundation for everything we built.
Yet to him, I was only ever someone who owed him her success.
After a long pause, I transferred him a large sum of money—all the savings I had.
My bank account balance dropped to three dollars.
But for the first time, I felt free. I owed him nothing now.
I looked once more at the ill-fitting dress.
It was elaborate and expensive.
The veil in the photo was likely part of the same set.
No wonder he had told me not to try it on earlier.
He had been afraid I might wear the dress meant for the woman he truly cared about.
I tossed it into the trash.
The dress, and the love I had once poured into him, were gone.
“Bruce, we’re even now,” I said as I closed the door behind me.
And with it, I closed that chapter of my life.
