“Mom, I’ve decided to go through with the arranged marriage.” In the dimly lit living room, my voice sounded distant and numb, like it didn’t even belong to me. Hearing my sudden change of heart, my mom was stunned. “You weren’t willing before. Why the sudden change? Aria, marriage isn’t a joke. It doesn’t matter whether it’s arranged or not—what matters is that you’re happy. You need to think this through. Don’t rush into it.” Her words made my chest tighten, and for a moment, my eyes stung with tears. “Mom, I’ve thought it through. You can start planning the wedding.” Mom must’ve sensed how I felt because she paused for a second before softly reassuring me: “You’ve been with Austin for so long, and he still won’t go public with your relationship. He hasn’t even agreed to meet us. Your dad and I have known for a while that things wouldn’t last between you two.” Her words felt like a knife twisting in my chest. It turns out that everyone on the outside could see the truth so clearly. The only fool here was me. “The Ford boy is someone your dad and I carefully picked for you years ago. We made sure he’s a good match. Not only is he from a solid family, but he’s also a man of great character. Aria, you deserve the best.” I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Mom. I trust you and Dad’s judgment.” Mom continued, “Do you want us to arrange a meeting with him in the next few days?” “There’s no need. Just go ahead and plan the wedding.” After I hung up the phone, I realized Austin had appeared behind me at some point, holding a small cake. He looked confused. “A wedding? Who’s getting married?” I am. I’m the one who’s getting married. I answered him silently in my heart, but the words never left my lips. Instead, I kept my expression calm and shook my head. “No one. Just a friend.” As soon as I said that, I noticed the tension in his shoulders ease. His face relaxed noticeably, and it made my heart ache all over again. Was he nervous because he thought I was going to pressure him into marrying me? Or was it because he thought I’d found out about him and Aria, his perfect secretary, and assumed they were the ones getting married? “I brought you your favorite cake from that bakery you love. Want to eat it now?” he asked. There was a time when Austin would bring me little treats after work—snacks and desserts he thought I’d enjoy. Even if I didn’t always like them, the thoughtfulness of it made me feel like I was floating in a sugary dream. I felt cherished, loved, remembered. But now, as I stared at the cake in his hands, all I felt was bitter irony. Not long ago, I’d stumbled across Aria’s newly public social media posts. I couldn’t bring myself to scroll far because just a few entries in, the truth hit me like a slap in the face. This cake wasn’t for me. It was Aria’s favorite. Not just this cake—those nuts, those snacks, all the little treats he used to bring me? They were all her favorites too. And the worst part? I realized that his habit of bringing me food only started after Aria joined his company. So, Austin... when you handed me those treats, who were you really thinking of? Was it me, Aria, or was it Aria? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said flatly, “I don’t like sweets anymore. They’re too much. Don’t buy them for me again.” Austin blinked, clearly surprised by my reaction. “What? That’s not true. You’ve never had a problem eating them before.” We’ve been together for years, and yet, if he really cared about me, how could he not know my preferences by now? Sometimes, you repeat yourself so many times that you grow tired. And eventually, you stop correcting them altogether. I didn’t argue. I simply shrugged and said, “My taste has changed recently.”