Chapter 8
1235words
My personal design exhibition, themed "Rebirth," opened at a highly renowned gallery in the city. The exhibition was exceptionally successful, with my works being eagerly covered by several top home design magazines, and orders booked even into next year.
On the opening day, I wore a simply cut white dress, standing in front of my work, calmly explaining my design philosophy to the guests. The lights fell softly, and I could feel the gazes directed at me were full of appreciation and admiration.
In the crowd, Emma held a glass of champagne and playfully gave me a thumbs up, her eyes full of pride. Not far away, Diane had also arrived, dressed in an elegant dark blue suit. She looked at me from a distance, and when our eyes met, she raised her glass in acknowledgment, both of us sharing a knowing smile. We no longer needed unnecessary words between us; the friendship built on our shared betrayal had deepened sufficiently.
As the exhibition was coming to an end and guests gradually dispersed, a gentle and refined man approached me. He was tall, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with a calm scholarly air about his features.
"Hello, Mia," he extended his hand, his voice gentle and sincere, "I'm David, an architect. Your work is very moving, reminds me of the power of 'authenticity'."
We shook hands and began to talk. We chatted about everything from Mies' "less is more" to Tadao Ando's philosophy of light and shadow, from Le Corbusier's functionalism to the emotional value of space. We were amazed to discover how aligned we were in our aesthetics and ideas. Unlike Alex who was always boasting, every word he spoke had substance. There wasn't the slightest calculation in his eyes, only pure appreciation and engaged discussion.
That night we talked for a long time, so long that the gallery staff began to politely clear the venue. When exchanging contact information, I looked into his clear eyes, and some long-frozen corner of my heart seemed to show signs of thawing.
Another month passed, and the studio work finally came to a close. I took Emma and flew to a sunny island to enjoy a long-overdue vacation.
We lay under the beach umbrella, the fine white sand slipping between our toes, the sea breeze with its slightly salty scent brushing against our cheeks, while in the distance the sea and sky blended into one vast expanse of blue.
"Seriously, how are things going between you and that architect David?" Emma sipped her ice-cold mojito, her eyes gleaming with curiosity behind her sunglasses.
I smiled and drew my gaze back from the distant horizon, picking up my iced lemon tea.
"Pretty good. He's sincere, not fake like Alex. We meet every week, sometimes to see exhibitions, sometimes just to walk and talk." I answered candidly, "But I'm not in a hurry. I want to enjoy my own life first."
After hearing this, Emma solemnly raised her drink.
"To you, to the bravest, most beautiful, and freest bride among us!"
I smiled and clinked glasses with her, the ice cubes making a crisp sound.
"Let's not talk about the bride," I shook my head, with unprecedented lightness in my tone, "That's all a closed chapter now. These days, I'm just Mia, a free designer."
Yes, just Mia. No longer anyone's fiancée, no longer a vengeful person carrying hatred, just myself.
Late at night, Emma was already sound asleep in her room. I stood alone on the villa's balcony, where waves gently lapped against the beach in the darkness, making rhythmic, hypnotic sounds, while countless stars scattered like crushed diamonds across the deep blue velvet curtain of the sky.
Leaning against the railing, I thought about everything that had happened this year. The dramatic revelation at the wedding, the heart-wrenching pain of betrayal, the calculated steps of my counterattack, and now the calmness and vastness in my heart. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.
I took out my phone, my fingertips sliding across the cold screen, opening that encrypted photo album. Inside were all the photos related to Alex from the past three years. The once sweet embraces, the smiles I once thought would last forever, now seemed nothing but ironic in this moment.
Without the slightest hesitation, I pressed and held, selected, and then pressed that red "Delete" button. The confirmation dialog box read "Permanently delete all items?" and I tapped "Yes." The screen displayed "Deleting," the progress bar quickly completed, and the entire album instantly became empty. I only kept those photos with Emma and Diane, those moments that witnessed friendship and strength.
After doing all this, I opened my phone's notes app and, under the starlight, wrote word by word:
"November 24, 2024, I finally learned three things:
First, the truth may be cruel, but it's always worth revealing, because it saves you from spending the rest of your life in lies.
Second, never compromise yourself for anyone; your bottom line and dignity are more precious than any false affection.
Third, losing the wrong person is not a punishment, but rather destiny clearing the path for you to prepare for meeting the truly right person."
I pressed save, then looked up, gazing deeply at the brilliant starry sky, my lips curling into a relieved smile.
I whispered to myself in my heart: "Thank you, Mia. Thank you for being brave enough back then."
The next morning, Emma and I strolled leisurely along the coastline. The brilliant sunlight scattered across the sea surface, creating sparkling ripples, and warmly enveloped us.
As we walked, my phone vibrated once in my pocket. I took it out and saw a message from David.
"There's an international architecture exhibition at the Arts Center next week, and I'm responsible for designing one of the exhibition areas. I'd like to invite you, as an excellent designer, to visit and provide guidance. Perhaps we could have an opportunity to collaborate in the future?"
Looking at this message, the smile at the corners of my mouth unconsciously deepened. His invitation was polite and thoughtful, expressing appreciation while leaving open and positive possibilities for our future relationship.
"Well, smiling so sweetly, are you going to reply?" Emma leaned over, saw the content on the screen, and teased me with raised eyebrows.
I looked at the message, thought for a moment, then calmly typed two words in the chat box.
"Sure, looking forward to it."
After clicking send, I put the phone back in my pocket, took a deep breath of the fresh air filled with ocean scent, and gazed at the endless, hopeful sea before me.
"Emma, you know what?" I turned my head and looked at her seriously, "I finally understand now—the best revenge has never been about destroying someone, but about living better than you ever have before. That wedding was an ending, but even more, it was a brand new beginning."
Hearing this, Emma smiled with satisfaction, she reached out and patted my shoulder firmly.
"Well said," her eyes sparkled in the sunlight, "our Mia has finally grown up completely."
We smiled at each other and walked side by side toward the brighter sunlight at the seaside, behind us were long shadows extending into the future. The sea was ahead, the sky was overhead, and everything was new.
