Every day after that felt like a countdown, ticking away.

I tried to keep myself busy, to distract from the pain of the parting drawing near.

One afternoon, while sorting through my high school textbooks, a postcard fell out from a bridal photography studio.

It was from when I’d gone with my roommate to get photos taken, and the studio owner had slipped it to me.

She’d said she wanted to hire me as a bridal model.

Back then, buried in schoolwork, I’d politely turned her down.

I wasn’t sure if it was too late to reconsider now.

Luckily, the call I made went through, and the owner said her offer still stood.

That day, I dragged Zhou Haiyan along with me, secretly wanting the chance to wear a wedding dress in front of the person I loved.

The dresses were beautiful, so many that my eyes practically swam looking at them all.

The young shop owner asked if the two of us wanted to model together—she said we looked like a perfect match.

I laughed and shook my head, saying he didn’t like being photographed.

However long I spent inside getting styled, Zhou Haiyan sat quietly on the sofa outside, waiting the entire time.

Dressed in an elaborate, beautiful white gown, a diamond necklace resting against my collarbone, my hair curled into soft, languid waves falling over my shoulders and neck, a glittering tiara set atop my head, delicate silver high heels on my feet.

The reflection in the mirror looked vivid and lovely. I stepped out under the shimmering studio lights, and for a moment it felt as though I were walking straight into the halls of matrimony, a bride with her heart and eyes fixed entirely on her wedding day.

Hearing the movement, he lifted his gaze to look at me, and our eyes held, still and unbroken, for what felt like forever, as if even the air around us had frozen. Something stirred deep in his eyes, and he closed them briefly before opening them again to calm.

He said, “You look beautiful.”

I looked straight into his eyes and said, slowly, deliberately, “I do.”

Three words, out of nowhere, with no context at all.

To anyone else, I probably looked out of my mind.

But I knew he’d understand.

He blinked, feigning a moment of consideration, a smile in his eyes. “Mm. I do too.”

I lowered my gaze, hiding the wild pounding in my chest and a sorrow too complicated to name.

Partway through the shoot afterward, he stepped out for a long while.

The owner, who was also the photographer, asked me, “Are you two a couple?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Not yet, right now.”

She waved a hand, saying with absolute certainty, “You will be. Trust me. You two are such a perfect match—love conquers everything in the end.”

Love conquers everything.

The road to true love is never smooth—love meets every hardship, and love overcomes every hardship in return.

I wanted to try to believe it.

By the time the shoot was almost finished, Zhou Haiyan came back.

He never explained where he’d gone, and I never asked—if he wanted me to know, he’d tell me himself.