The Day I Found Her Real Groom

Kristy Simpson sees the photo I post of us, and right there on the street, her face turns cold. She reaches over and forcibly pushes my phone down. "Adam, I don't like putting my personal life on display for people to gossip about. Delete the post. Don't be so immature." Under the gazes of the pedestrians, I silently delete the post right in front of her. Only when the photo disappears from the screen does some of the chill leave her. She sighs, then reaches out and pulls me into her arms. "Be good. All that matters is that we live our lives well. We don't need to post stuff online just to prove things to other people." For the next three years, not a single trace of her appears on my social media again. When my friends ask if I'm single, I just smile and tell them she's a private person. Even for our wedding invitations—a wedding scheduled for next month—I use a lone landscape photo. Then, last night, I happened to stumble across her on the recommendation page of a pet influencer's account. In the video, she's got her arm around another man, her eyes crinkling as she smiles at the camera. There are over ten thousand comments in the comment section, and all of them are gushing about how sweet Kristy and her boyfriend are. I scroll through the entire feed, post by post. The earliest one was uploaded eight months after we got together. Pinned right at the top is a "complaint" from that same man. "She insists on filming every single day. It's so annoying." As it turns out, she doesn't hate being on camera. She just hates it when I'm in the frame with her. I calmly exit the page and send a text to the wedding planner. "Cancel the wedding." Chapter 1 Adam's POV After sending out a text to the wedding planner to cancel the wedding, I sat in the study, my fingertips icy cold. The glowing screen displayed three full years—1,095 days—worth of posts from the pet account. Every single day featured Kristy Simpson. Sometimes it was a profile shot, sometimes it was her back, and sometimes she was holding a ragdoll cat named Pudding, smiling tenderly at the camera. I turned off my phone. The living room light was still on. I'd made a habit of leaving it on for her when she came home late, and I'd kept doing so for five years. The sound of a key turning came from the entryway. Kristy was back. She took off her coat and walked straight over to me, her brows slightly furrowed. "You're not done with the wedding intro video yet?" She didn't say a single word about why she'd come home so late, nor did she notice anything off about me. I looked at her calmly. "Almost." She didn't seem to notice the coldness in my voice and kept talking. "It's due tomorrow. Don't forget." Then she tossed her camera bag onto the couch. A black camera remote slipped out of the side pocket and rolled onto the carpet. My heart sank. It was the same remote. In countless videos, the guy named Victor Olsen had held it up, grinning as he called out to the off-camera Kristy, "Kristy, we're rolling!" As it turned out, she hadn't simply happened to end up in front of the camera. She had been the one pressing the shutter herself. Kristy bent down to pick up the remote. Noticing my gaze, she casually shoved it back into the bag. "Why are you looking at that?" I swallowed the bitterness in my throat. "Kristy, what's going on with that pet account?" She looked annoyed. "I told you. It's work. A collaboration with a pet influencer." "Work? What work requires you to be on camera every day for three years straight?" "Why are you overthinking things again?" she snapped, her voice rising. "Adam, can you be more mature? Not everything has to be about our relationship." "I just wanted to—" "You don't need to know," she said, cutting me off. "Just do what you're supposed to do and finish editing the wedding video." She was always like this. Whenever I had questions or felt wronged, she'd shut me down with words like "be mature", "it's work", and "don't be childish". In the past, I'd immediately apologize and reflect on myself. But tonight, I just nodded. "Okay." Seemingly satisfied with how sensible I was being, she turned and walked into the bathroom. When I heard the water running, I opened my conversation with the person in charge of the exhibition. They had just sent me a confirmation. "Mr. Cox, regarding the two-year restoration residency program at the Old Film Museum in Orvale, are you certain you'd like to accept the position? You turned it down before because of the wedding." For the sake of the future Kristy had talked about, I'd given up my dream opportunity. But now, I was taking it back with my own hands. "I'm sure. Thank you for holding the spot for me." … The next morning, Kristy discovered that her camera batteries hadn't been charged and the shooting script wasn't laid out on the table like usual. Visibly irritated, she started rummaging through the house. "Adam, where's my spare battery?" I was packing my film restoration tools and didn't even look up. "I don't know. Look for it yourself." She froze, looking at me in surprise. I ignored her and continued using the deposits returned by the wedding planning agency to pay the breach-of-contract fees, one payment at a time. She'd always used work as an excuse to be a total hands-off bride for this wedding, so the wedding vendors only had my contact information. That made it easy for me to cut every last tie cleanly. The venue, the officiant, the transportation… I severed every connection with my own two hands. Finally, I logged into the studio's backend system to revoke my keycard access. "Are you sure you want to revoke access?" I clicked "Yes". My phone buzzed. A confirmation letter had come from the residency program. "Mr. Cox, welcome aboard. Your residency check-in date is seven days from now." At the same time, I opened the electronic seating chart for the wedding and deleted my name from the groom column. In Kristy's mind, the wedding was still moving forward as planned. But her groom had already quietly made his exit. Chapter 2 Adam's POV The next day, I went to the animal welfare center. On paper, I was there to return the equipment the wedding planning agency had borrowed earlier for a shoot. All the volunteers there knew Kristy. They also knew the "boyfriend" featured on that account. I'd barely set the equipment case down when a young woman sidled over enthusiastically. "You're Kristy's friend, right? Is she coming today too?" I shook my head. "I'm just here to return some equipment." "Oh, I see." She looked a little disappointed, but she quickly smiled again. "That's fine, as long as Victor's coming. The two of them are always together anyway." Another volunteer who was feeding a cat chimed in, "Right? Kristy and Victor are literally the model couple around here. They're so sweet together!" "Oh look! Kristy's boyfriend is here!" "Hi, Victor!" Their words made my temples throb with a dull ache. I turned around and saw "Kristy's boyfriend". Victor Olsen. He was surrounded by several volunteers, laughing as he said, "Come on, guys. Don't call me that. We're just work partners." Despite what he said, there wasn't a hint of embarrassment on his face at being misunderstood. Just then, Kristy arrived, carrying cans of food for the stray animals. She walked naturally over to Victor's side. The volunteers immediately started teasing them. "Kristy, you're here to do charity work with your sweetheart again?" Kristy chuckled and didn't correct them. Not even a single word was spoken. When her eyes swept across the room and happened upon me, they lingered briefly. Just then, a representative from one of the sponsors walked over and asked curiously, "Kristy, who's this?" In that second, my heart still skipped a beat. I couldn't help but wait for her to tell them that I was her fiance. Instead, Kristy just answered in the most matter-of-fact tone, "A friend. He's handling the video for our wedding." A friend. On the eve of our wedding, in front of people who assumed she and Victor were a couple, she'd casually brushed me off as just a friend. I still remembered how, three years ago, when she'd won a major industry award, reporters and media outlets had swarmed her at the celebration party. I instinctively wanted to stand by her side, but she pulled me into a corner and said, "There are too many people and cameras here. Stay out of sight for the time being." Back then, I'd thought she was protecting me in her own way. Only now did I realize that keeping me hidden had always been her long-standing rule—a rule that applied only to me. In the nearby studio, the livestream was about to start. Victor's lapel mic was sitting slightly crooked. Kristy walked over naturally, leaned down, and carefully clipped it into the perfect position on his collar. Her movements were practiced and intimate, as if she'd done it countless times before. Victor looked down at her. "That light almost blinded me just now," he whined. She immediately turned to the lighting technician. "Switch to a soft light. His eyes are sensitive." Then she began adjusting the camera angle for him, asking him to lean against her shoulder so he could get a feel for the shot. In that moment, the focus and tenderness in her eyes were the same things I'd seen countless times through her camera lens. Once the livestream started, Victor pulled something shiny from his pocket and held it up to the camera. "Ta-da! Check out our custom collab pet tag!" It was a silver, bone-shaped tag engraved with the name of their account—"KS&VO". Kristy smiled as she took it from him and personally hung it around his neck. The live chat instantly blew up. "OMG! Are they hard launching their relationship right now?" "My ship is sailing! I've thrown away the anchor!" I couldn't watch any longer. I turned and walked out. Once I got home, I opened the cloud drive we shared. In our five years together, we'd been to many places and taken so many photos. I opened the folders organized by date and started scrolling through them from the day they started that account three years ago. Folder after folder, thousands of photos and video clips—all of them were of Victor. His smiles, his goofing around, him holding cats, his side profile as he fell asleep leaning on Kristy… Everything had been meticulously organized and preserved by her. And me? I searched the archive for my own name, but nothing came up. The only proof of my existence in that entire collection was a single unusable shot from three years ago. In that photo, all I got was a shot of her back as she walked away. Because she'd told me not to take pictures of her. I'd been by her side for five years. Yet, in her digital records, I was practically nonexistent. I shut down the computer and dragged a dusty file box out of the storage room. I had originally bought it for moving into our new home. But now, I was using it to pack up my past. My films, my restoration tools, the old camera Grandma had left me… Everything that belonged to me went into the box, one by one. I didn't explain to Kristy what I was doing. I no longer needed her lens or her validation. When I logged out of that shared cloud drive, a system prompt popped up. "You will lose access to thousands of media files spanning the past three years." Without backing anything up, I clicked "Confirm". Chapter 3 Adam's POV The family photoshoot was scheduled at Kristy's photography studio. Susanne Wilson, her mother and my future mother-in-law, who had always been polite and courteous with me, was especially enthusiastic that day. But that enthusiasm wasn't directed at me. "Victor, hurry. Come stand next to Kristy." She took Victor by the hand and affectionately positioned him in the center of the main set, right next to Kristy. Victor looked a little embarrassed and shot me a glance. "Mrs. Simpson, is this really okay? Adam is right there." "Oh, please. You've been partners with Kristy for so long, you're practically family. What's one picture?" Susanne retorted, chuckling warmly. Then she turned to me. "Adam, since you know photography, we'll have to trouble you today. You can help with the lights and hold up the reflector." Just like that, I was demoted from future son-in-law to crew member. I stood outside the set, holding the heavy reflector while I watched them pose under the studio lights. Kristy, her parents, and Victor stood together, forming a picture-perfect family portrait. And I wasn't included in it. Something seemed to be pressing heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Susanne seemed to notice my mood. "Adam, smile a little. Don't bring down everyone's good mood," she called out from behind the camera. To her, my silence was ruining the atmosphere. I looked over at Kristy, hoping she'd say something. Instead, she just knitted her brows and mouthed to me, "Think about the big picture." It was that same phrase again. She always used ideas such as "be grateful" and "mind the occasion" to demand my compliance and make me give in time and time again. During the shoot, a harsh beam of light hit Victor directly in the face, making him squint instinctively. Kristy noticed immediately. "Turn the light down a little. Use the softbox." She remembered he was sensitive to bright lights. She remembered every little habit of his. Yet, she'd completely forgotten that I had an old wrist injury and couldn't hold heavy objects for too long. The reflector grew heavier by the second, and a familiar ache spread through my wrist. I'd fractured it three years ago when I fell while trying to protect her precious Leica camera. I still remembered how frantic she'd been that day, and how she'd stayed outside the treatment room the whole night. Later, she hand-crafted a weight-reducing camera strap for me, and for months, she insisted on carrying my gear bags. That same strap was later taken by her and used to decorate Victor's livestream setup. She'd said it looked good on camera. These memories made my chest tighten with a suffocating ache. The pain in my wrist grew worse and worse until I finally couldn't hold on any longer, and the reflector slipped from my hands. Everyone's eyes fell on me. Kristy hurried over. Without so much as checking on my wrist, she picked up the reflector from the floor first. "What's going on? Can we finish the shoot or not?" I looked at her, swallowing the dull pain shooting through my wrist. "My wrist hurts." Only then did she notice my slightly swollen wrist. Her brows furrowed even tighter. "How could you be so careless?" There was no concern in her voice. Only blame. "Can you still finish the photos in time for the account's next posting schedule?" she asked. In that instance, my heart went completely dead. Her thoughtfulness was reserved for someone else, and her memory was purely selective. I shook my head and slowly got to my feet. "I can't shoot anymore." With that, I turned and walked toward the equipment area without sparing her another glance. The phone in my pocket buzzed. It was a message from the residency program team. "Mr. Cox, due to weather conditions, your overnight train originally scheduled for seven days from now has been moved up to tomorrow night. Please prepare accordingly." Might as well. I walked over to the worktable, took off the wrist brace I'd worn for three years, and gently set it down. Kristy had personally put it on me all those years ago. And now, I was giving it back. The photographer handed the raw files over to Kristy for approval. In the photos, her family and Victor were smiling radiantly. Only in the reflection of a pane of glass in the corner was there a blurry figure, almost impossible to make out. That was me. Chapter 4 Adam's POV On my last day before leaving, I calmly wrapped up every single handover. The file box had already been picked up by the shipping company and sent to Orvale. A photo of the keys to the residency housing had also been sent to my new phone. Just like the average traveler leaving after a business trip, I erased every last trace of myself from the place. When Kristy came home, I was deleting the very last file from the computer. It was the wedding intro video that didn't have a single face in it, only landscapes. Noticing my swollen wrist, she instinctively grabbed ointment and an old brace from the medical kit, then applied it for me with practiced ease. That fleeting moment of tenderness almost made me pause. Maybe she still cared about me deep down. But the next words out of her mouth dragged me right back to reality. "Is your wrist feeling better now?" she asked. "If it is, go and tweak the wedding video a little more. I think the color grading is too cold." She still believed that the wedding would happen as planned. I looked at her and asked one last question. "Kristy, have you ever considered that maybe I don't want things to continue like this?" She looked at me as if she'd just heard the funniest joke. "You don't want to? Adam Cox, aren't you done with your tantrum yet?" She walked right up to me, a mocking smile on her face. "Didn't you delete the photos from the wedding display and skip out on the family portrait just so you could force me to go public with us? Well, let me tell you something. I hate being threatened." As it turned out, my silence and compromises had been nothing more than a tantrum in her eyes. I smiled, not bothering to explain anymore. Just then, her phone started ringing. It was the person in charge of the animal welfare center, calling in a panic. "Kristy! It's bad! A piece of equipment fell from high up while Victor was livestreaming, and he got hit while trying to protect the cats!" Kristy's expression changed instantly. She grabbed her coat and bolted out the door without even glancing at me. She didn't even remember that we had to finalize our wedding program that afternoon. Once again, she was absent because of Victor. I didn't go after her. Instead, I clicked on that familiar livestream link. The feed was shaking badly, and the scene was in chaos. Yet, I still saw everything clearly. Kristy rushed into the frame and pulled Victor tightly against her, using her own back to shield him from anything else that might fall. She kept checking him over again and again, her voice trembling with a panic I'd never heard before. "Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" Even after confirming that Victor had only been startled, she still didn't let go of him. Instead, right in front of tens of thousands of viewers, she pulled him into a long, lingering embrace. Someone on set wanted to cut the stream, but she stopped them. "Don't turn it off. Keep streaming. We don't want this to affect the account's numbers." Three years ago, for the sake of "keeping a low profile", she'd forced me to delete a photo of us right in the middle of the street. Three years later, for the sake of another man's account metrics, she willingly chose to broadcast herself shielding him for the entire world to see. She didn't hate being on camera. She just hated having me in the frame. The live chat had already gone wild. "My goodness! Kristy's a total badass!" "This couple is the real deal! This definitely isn't staged!" "Kristy and Victor have to stay together forever!" I slowly scrolled through the messages of support and congratulations and gave one of them a like. Then, I closed the livestream, deactivated my old number, walked to the entryway, and gently placed my access card on the shoe cabinet. Goodbye, Kristy. I closed the door—the one I'd never walk through again. … The night was pitch black when I stood alone on the platform for the overnight train. The moment I boarded the carriage, I used my new number to send out a mass notification to all our wedding guests, informing them the wedding was canceled. The train slowly pulled away. The neon lights of the city rapidly receded into a blurry haze behind me. At the same time, Kristy had just finished calming Victor down and was about to call me, demanding an explanation, when she received a final confirmation message from the wedding planner. "Dear Ms. Simpson, as requested by Mr. Adam Cox seven days ago, all arrangements for your wedding to Mr. Cox have been unilaterally canceled. Notifications to the wedding guests have just been sent out." Outside the window, the world was completely dark. Only the lights inside the train illuminated my calm face. While Kristy was frantic with worry over another man, she'd permanently lost her groom.