From Contract to Forever

Pushing open the heavy villa door, the crystal chandelier in the foyer reflected dazzling light that made my eyes ache. This villa was the place Dylan and I had carefully prepared for our wedding; every detail embodied my devotion and hopes. But now, there was someone here who should never have been. Dylan Lynn held Mia Scott's hand as they walked ahead, their intertwined fingertips like a slender needle, slowly piercing my heart. "Mia, look at this greenhouse," his voice was so gentle it seemed to drip with tenderness. "You always said you loved sunflowers, so I specially had them replanted." I stood in the shadow by the greenhouse door, watching this scene, my nails digging almost painfully into my palms. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling, draping their entwined figures in a golden glow. Mia Scott tilted her head, smiling with eyes full of dependence: "Dylan, this place is truly beautiful. Can we often bask in the sun here from now on?" "Of course." Dylan Lynn lifted his hand to gently stroke her hair, a gesture both natural and intimate. Mia rose on tiptoe and lightly kissed Dylan's cheek. Dylan paused for a moment, then laughed aloud, pulling her into his embrace: "You little rascal." I could no longer hold back and quickly turned, striding upstairs toward the bedroom. The moment I closed the door, laughter drifted from the swimming pool—Mia's laughter, clearer and clearer with each passing second, as if deliberately reminding me that this place no longer belongs to me. Leaning against the door, tears finally slipped down my cheeks. Every detail of this villa was crafted by my own hands, yet now it has become their stage to flaunt their love. I slowly walked to the window and gazed upon the sunflowers blooming in the yard. Those golden blossoms gleamed under the sunlight, as if cruelly mocking my innocence and folly. Three years ago, Dylan Lynn and I chose this land together. He promised to give me the warmest home. Back then, I naively believed we would spend the rest of our lives here. But reality dealt me the heaviest blow. The phone suddenly vibrated—a message from my close friend: "Lydia, are you okay? I heard Mia Scott has moved in?" I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. In the end, I simply typed two words: "It's nothing." Footsteps echoed outside the door, drawing nearer and nearer. I hastily wiped away my tears and steadied my emotions. The door creaked open, and Mia Scott peeked in, her face wearing an innocent smile: "Lydia, you're here? Dylan said you might be resting and asked me not to disturb you." I gave a faint smile: "It's alright, I was just about to head downstairs." Mia Scott seemed not to notice the distance in my tone; instead, she said warmly, 'That's wonderful! I made some snacks. Would you like to try them?' I followed her downstairs and saw Dylan Lynn sitting in the living room, reading the newspaper. He glanced up at me with an indifferent gaze, as if we were nothing more than ordinary roommates. 'You didn't go to the company today?' he asked casually. 'Nothing much going on at the company,' I replied, my voice so calm even I was surprised. Mia carefully placed the snacks in front of me. 'Lydia, try the tiramisu I made. Dylan said it's delicious.' I picked up the fork and took a gentle bite. The cloying sweetness melted in my mouth, yet it could not dispel the bitterness deep within my heart. Dylan Lynn put down the newspaper and said to Mia Scott, "This afternoon, let's go see the newly arrived furniture. Didn't you say you wanted to change the curtains in the master bedroom?" Mia Scott nodded happily, completely unaware of my tightly clenched hands. I stood up. "You two go ahead. I suddenly remembered I have some work to attend to." Dylan frowned. "It's so late, what work do you still have to do?" "A sudden issue came up that I need to deal with." I turned away, without looking back at them. Back in the room, I opened my laptop but couldn't focus on a single word. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting light onto the photo frame on the desk — a picture of us taken in the villa's garden, our smiles bright and carefree. I gently traced the image of myself, suddenly realizing that the innocent and blissful Lydia Shaw might have vanished forever.