I Chose His Rival Over Him

Today is my engagement banquet. The crystal chandeliers lit the Banquet Hall as bright as daylight, each beam scattering across the floor like shattered diamonds. The guests were dressed in exquisite evening gowns; the ladies' skirts swayed softly with each step, and the gentlemen's bow ties sat crisp and neat. Everyone held champagne flutes, weaving through conversations, while the sharp clinking of glasses and laughter filled the Banquet Hall. I stood at the entrance of the Banquet Hall, the hem of my ivory evening gown wrinkled from my clenched fingers, my eyes darting repeatedly to the time on my phone screen. The appointed auspicious hour had passed by half an hour, yet Mark Collins still hadn't arrived. Bridesmaid Lydia hurried to my side, slightly turning to shield me from the surrounding gazes. She lowered her voice and whispered, "Tessa, why isn't Mark here yet? Several guests asked me quietly just now, and I didn't know what to say." I tugged at the corners of my mouth, trying to force a natural smile, but my facial muscles stiffened slightly. "Wait a little longer. He might be stuck in traffic. He'll be here soon, just a bit late." No sooner had I finished speaking than the heavy doors of the Banquet Hall suddenly burst open, a gust of cool air rushing in from outside. Mark Collins hurried inside, raindrops speckling the shoulders of his black suit, his hair tousled—clearly caught in the rain on the way here. Without looking at the surrounding guests, he came straight to me. Before I could ask what was wrong, he reached out and gripped my wrist. "Tessa, the engagement banquet has to be postponed." His eyes were full of panic, but his tone was unyieldingly firm. "Willow suddenly relapsed. She's emotionally very unstable. I have to be with her." Not again. I stared at his anxious profile, feeling a sharp prick in my heart. Yet strangely, this time the piercing pain was gone, replaced only by a numb, weary emptiness. This is already the twelfth time. Ever since we set the wedding date, he's always managed to postpone our important plans because of Willow Lynn's "depression." "Mark Collins," I gently withdrew my hand from his grasp, my voice as soft as a whisper, "Have you forgotten? Today is our engagement banquet." "I know today is the engagement banquet!" He suddenly raised his voice, causing all the guests to turn their attention to us. Realizing his outburst, he quickly softened his tone, pleading, "But Willow is different—she has depression and can't handle any kind of emotional shock.""Tessa, you've always been so understanding. Please try to bear with me this once. Let's have the engagement banquet next time, alright?" "Which next time are you talking about?" I lifted my head, looked straight into his eyes, and asked, word by word, "Is this the thirteenth time, or the fourteenth?" Mark Collins was clearly stunned, his eyes full of surprise, probably not expecting me to challenge him like this. No matter how many times he postponed our plans before, I would always nod and agree. Even if my heart was breaking inside, I'd force a smile and say, "It's okay, Willow needs you more." The guests around began to sense something was wrong; whispers grew louder, and some even took out their phones to stealthily snap photos.