Chapter 1

Mom was critically ill. Before she died, she wanted to see me get married.

I begged my girlfriend Vivienne for 27 days before she finally agreed to marry me.

I waited at City Hall until dark, but she never showed up.

That same day, Vivienne's childhood friend Sebastian posted their marriage certificate on social media:

"Time flies—just three more days until we've been married for a whole month."

That's when I found out she had already married Sebastian.

Right then, I received an apology text from Vivienne.

"Logan, Sebastian's family was forcing him to get married. I couldn't just stand by and watch him marry some random person and throw his life away. Three more days and we'll be divorced. After that, I'll marry you."

Three days later, when Vivienne showed up at City Hall in her wedding dress, all she received was my message.

"Vivienne, we're done. Forever."

In the morgue, I stared at Mom's face as tears streamed down my cheeks.

Mom had raised me alone. She never asked me for anything.

But I couldn't even fulfill her final wish.

When I learned Mom was seriously ill, I begged Vivienne—my girlfriend of six years—to get our marriage license. I wanted Mom to know that after she was gone, I wouldn't be alone.

I begged her for twenty-seven days.

But Vivienne kept making excuses.

Day one: Sebastian's car broke down, so she rushed over to pick him up.

Day two: She was helping Sebastian move and didn't have time.

...

Day twenty-six: Sebastian's stomach condition flared up, so she rushed over to take care of him.

If Sebastian hadn't posted that marriage certificate today, I'd still be completely in the dark.

I had come up with ten thousand reasons to explain Vivienne's behavior—but never once did I imagine she was already married.

I knelt by Mom's bedside until evening, when Vivienne called.

On the phone, her voice was as gentle as always:

"It's so late. Why aren't you home yet? Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

I opened my mouth but couldn't speak.

In the past, I would have pretended to be upset so she'd coax me, then happily waited for her to come get me.

But now, I could no longer say a single gentle word to her.

Vivienne's voice carried a trace of anxiety:

"Logan, where are you right now?"

"The hospital."

Vivienne froze, as if only now remembering I'd been taking care of Mom all this time.

"I... wait for me. I'm coming to the hospital to be with you."

After she hung up, I suppressed my grief, stood up, and began handling Mom's funeral arrangements.

But ten minutes later, she sent me another message:

[Logan, I have to accompany Sebastian to deal with his parents. I'll definitely visit your mom next time!]

I wasn't surprised at all.

Because over the past two years, the phrase I'd heard most from her was:

[Next time for sure.]

Missed our anniversary? I'll make it up next time.

Skipped meeting Mom with me? I'll come next time.

Put off getting our license? I'll definitely be free tomorrow.

She knew I'd forgive her, so she hurt me without restraint.

But this time, there would be no next time.

Because Mom would never have another chance.

And I would never forgive her again.