Unsent Longing for the Spring of Yore

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At my wedding reception, a decade in the making, the big screen suddenly flashed photos of my fianc cheating. The entire ballroom waited for me to spiral into hysterics. Everyone knew about my severe control issues and bipolar disorder, that my obsession with Zach Weixler ran bone-deep. If he so much as caught a wisp of an unfamiliar scent, Id be on the rooftop, forcing him to scrub his skin raw. If he exchanged more than a few words with another woman, Id cut my wrists, demanding he lock himself away in a dark room for three days and three nights.

Zach's family whispered warnings, "Anna, don't make things more difficult for everyone."

In the photos, Zach's back was covered in scratch marks, as he tenderly kissed the woman in his arms. He was even explaining it to me, quite pleased with himself. "Anna, I'm doing this for therapy."

Zachs promise last night, that he would cut ties with that woman, landed like a resounding slap, finally waking me up. My illness was cured. And him? I no longer wanted him.

The wedding reception ended in disarray. I removed my veil and looked at Zach's parents. "Mr. Weixler, I remember you once said that if Zach and I ever grew tired of each other, I could use this engagement contract to ask you for anything." He looked surprised, as if he couldn't believe I would give up this engagement. "Then, please adopt me as your goddaughter, and arrange for me to marry far away in Brighton, where he can never find me." In the face of my resolute gaze, he reluctantly agreed.

I turned back to my room, tearing down photos from the wall, one by one. A warm breath ghosted over my neck, and my hand paused.

"My wife is so well-behaved today, not acting up like usual. It seems my treatment over the years has been very effective."

I had severe control issues and bipolar disorder. Every time I found a trace on Zach that wasn't mine, I would go mad, forcing him to clean it off. He was no less extreme, always making himself bruised and battered to demonstrate his loyalty.

I don't know when it started, but a depressed patient, far more severe than me, appeared in Zach's life. Zach said if he could cure Clara Hastings, then he could definitely cure me.

I subtly evaded Zach's hand. He keenly noticed, holding my hand even tighter. "My wife, it was Clara who had an episode today. She was sobbing and nearly killed me."

"I had no choice. I came up with this idea to cheer her up." As if afraid I wouldn't believe him, Zach opened his photo album and showed me a smiling picture of Clara.

For the past six months, Clara had infiltrated every aspect of my life. She baked a cake, and Zach, despite my matcha allergy, forced me to eat it, demanding I smile and admit she was wonderful. When her planted flowers sprouted, Zach would interrupt my therapy sessions, dragging me to a party to celebrate. When she was scared of thunderstorms, Zach left me with a high fever on the way to the hospital...

I gave a perfunctory agreement. "Mmm, she smiled. Congratulations on becoming her savior."

But Zach's face suddenly darkened. He gripped my shoulder tightly. "Anna!"

"I'm only your savior!" His grip was too strong, and the back of my head slammed against the wall. The photos in my hand scattered, trampled under Zach's feet. I cried out in pain, and he immediately pulled his hand back, his face filled with concern. He crouched down, picking up the scattered photos. "I'll have the housekeeper pack up our things and move them to the bridal suite. You don't have to worry."

It seemed he still didn't know about my plans to marry far away. I nodded and spoke softly. "Then the wedding..."

Zach clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You're the only one in my heart. Does it matter if we have a wedding? Clara's emotions have just stabilized. Can't you wait?"

A specific notification sound suddenly filled the air. The anger on his face vanished, replaced by a gentle expression as he answered the phone. A girl's delicate sobs came through the speaker. Zach panicked, dropped the photos, and rushed out.

I watched his hurried departure and dialed the wedding planner. "Just transfer the refund directly to Mr. Weixler's account."

Half an hour after Zach left, I finally cleared the photo wall. I stared at my own happy smiling face in the photos, a sudden pang in my heart. Then, without hesitation, I threw them into the shredder.

On the bedside table hung an ugly, distorted doll. Initially, I loved it, and felt bad for Zach's pricked fingers from making this ugly doll. But later, I saw the same pattern on Clara's phone case, but a more exquisite charm. Only then did I realize this was just a failed practice piece Zach had used. I threw it into the trash, along with all the couple's items in the room.

My phone vibrated wildly, indicating Clara had updated her social media.

When I first learned of Clara's existence, I furiously confronted Zach. I happened to catch him holding her hand, helping her write. They were so close, the air practically glowed with a pink, ambiguous aura. I went mad, smashing his study, forcing him to draw a line with her. For the first time, Zach didn't soothe my emotions; instead, he stood beside Clara, scolding me. "Those with dirty hearts see dirt everywhere! I was just teaching her how to write!" But the scattered sheets of paper on the floor were all covered in hearts. That time, Zach didn't comfort me; he gave me the silent treatment for a month.

Zach self-righteously claimed it was normal socializing. But what I saw were his and Clara's intertwined fingers, his and Clara's shadow kiss in a staged shot, and yesterday at the wedding banquet, the ambiguous, glaring scratch marks. My consciousness returned. I picked up my phone and saw Clara's post about soaking in a hot spring. She wore a sheer white gauze, the wet fabric clinging to her skin. A pair of hands, intimately familiar to me, appeared in the frame, kneading Clara's calf without any sense of boundaries. The caption read, "I'm so clumsy; my calf cramped as soon as I got in the water. Luckily, Master Zach saved me." It was followed by two emojis of praying hands, attempting to lighten the romantic atmosphere.

I watched for a long time, then blocked Clara's contact. As soon as I blocked her, Zach's call came in. His roaring voice pierced my eardrums. "Anna Vance, what the hell are you doing? Clara was just normally sharing her life on social media!"

"Don't you know she has severe depression? Why did you block her? She's been crying nonstop, banging her head against the pool wall, saying she's a sinner and wants to prove her innocence by dying."

Zach's accusations were like a sharp knife, brutally tearing through my feigned strength. My chest ached dully. I tried to suppress a sob. "Zach Weixler, I just want to draw a line between us. Is it wrong for me to give you to her?"

A splash was heard on the other end. Zach screamed in panic. "Clara!" All that was left was the cold dial tone. Tears fell onto the wedding dowry my parents had left me. I ran my hand over the exquisite phoenix coronet. In the end, I still couldn't fulfill my parents' last wish, to marry Zach in grand style.

I continued packing. Half an hour later, the door was kicked open with a bang. Zach, protecting the sobbing Clara, looked furious. "Look at how much Clara is crying! Hurry up and apologize!" My fingernails dug deep into my palm. I didn't want to argue with him anymore. I obediently bowed and said, "I'm sorry."

Zach was unaccustomed to my docility, staring at me in surprise. I carefully placed the phoenix coronet into my suitcase. But then I saw Clara gently tug at Zach's sleeve. "That phoenix coronet is so pretty! If I had a coronet like that, I'd be so happy." Her tears fell perfectly onto Zach's hand. Zach snatched the coronet from my hand and placed it on Clara's head. "If this coronet can make you happy, it's worth it. Besides, Anna made you sick, so consider it her apology gift to you."

I frantically tried to grab it back, but Zach's grip on my wrist was crushing. The force was so immense, it felt like my bones would shatter. Tears welled up from the pain, and I looked at Zach pleadingly. "That's the only keepsake my parents left me! Give it back!" Clara fiddled with the coronet's tassels, asking with a smile as she looked in the mirror, "Do I look good wearing it?" Zach nodded, affectionately pinching her cheek. "Of course, you look good. Clara is the prettiest."

Clara finally stopped crying and, smiling, threw herself into Zach's arms. The two of them flirted openly, oblivious to my presence. I saw a corner of the phoenix coronet bent. My heart felt as if it had been slashed by a sharp knife, blood dripping out.

"Give it back!" I shrieked, my voice sharp, startling even Mrs. Weixler. She rushed into the room, saw Clara deliberately bending the coronet's tassel, and frowned deeply, angrily questioning Zach. "How could you get involved with someone so disreputable? Look at her, she has no manners, just casually stealing other people's things!"

The atmosphere was tense. Zach gritted his teeth, looking at me. "Did you teach Mom to say that?" With that, he scoffed. "If we're talking about manners, you're the one without them, aren't you? If you had manners, would you be living in my house before we're even married?"

"You uncultured brute."

A buzzing erupted in my ears. I forcefully raised my hand and slapped Zach's face. "You have no right to say that!"

During a family gathering years ago, a fire broke out. The Weixler family, being closer to the exit, escaped first. Zach and I were still playing hide-and-seek. My parents were shielding me as we fled when they heard Zach's frightened cries for help. They didn't hesitate, immediately turning back to find him. Because of inhaling too much dense smoke, my mother collapsed in the flames. My father, using his body as a shield to protect Zach, suffered extensive burns and eventually died from his injuries. If it weren't for Zach, my parents would never have died.

Mrs. Weixler's eyes reddened, and she tearfully pulled me into a hug. Zach also realized he had spoken out of turn, his lips moving slightly as if to make amends. Clara, seeing everyone starting to side with me, started to cry pitifully again. She took off the phoenix coronet, placing herself between Zach and me. "Please don't argue over me, okay? I'm sorry, I'll give the phoenix coronet back to you." My fingers trembled as I reached for it, but the moment I touched the coronet, Clara let go. It fell heavily to the ground, severely deformed, the embedded jewels shattering everywhere.

My blood ran cold. I collapsed to the ground, carefully gathering the pieces of the phoenix coronet. Clara, as if triggered, screamed hysterically, throwing herself into Zach's arms. Zach wrapped his arm around her waist, angrily gripping my wrist. "Anna Vance, it's just a broken item! Do you really want Clara to die?"

"Come with me! I'll make you experience what it's like to have an episode too." Zach forcibly dragged me into the passenger seat. Mrs. Weixler ran after us, looking worriedly at me. "The Weixler family will be here to pick you up soon! Where are you going now?" The roar of the engine drowned out her words. Zach didn't hear a thing.

I clutched the jade fragments in my hand. They pierced my palm, blood seeping through my fingers. Zach merely glanced at it, then averted his gaze. He worriedly watched Clara in the rearview mirror, gently comforting her. "Don't be scared, Clara. I'll make things right for you right away."