Before the wedding, I went to pick up our wedding photos, but the bride in the pictures wasn't me. It was Daniel's childhood sweetheart. As I stood there, dumbfounded, the shop assistant brought out another stack of photos and apologized: "I'm so sorry, these are your wedding photos." I stared blankly at the same groom, two different brides, and two sets of wedding photos. In a flash, I pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of Daniel and Ashley's wedding photos, and posted it on Ins. With the caption: "A match made in heaven, truly."" Daniel called me immediately. "Chloe, are you serious? Ashley just wanted to fulfill a dream by taking wedding photos with me, and you're being this petty?" I said calmly, "Let's break up. I don't want this wedding anymore." Later, Daniel begged me to take wedding photos again, but I pushed him away: "Sorry, I don't like taking pictures, and I especially don't like you." 1 Stepping out of the photography studio, I casually tossed my wedding photos into a trash can. Those were the wedding photos I'd dreamed of for ten years, now just a pile of garbage. Along with them, I tossed in ten years of my feelings. Back home, Daniel was already sitting on the couch, looking furious. I ignored him and walked straight to the bedroom. E Daniel grabbed my arm. "Chloe, what exactly is your problem? It's just a small thing, why are you making such a big deal out of it, and giving me attitude?" He took wedding photos with another woman and then dared to ask what *my* problem was. Right. I'd indulged him too much over the years, my boundless tolerance made him think he could walk all over me, that I didn't even have the right to be angry. I lowered my eyes and said coldly, "No problem. I just find it utterly meaningless now."" Daniel's voice rose, his impatience practically overflowing. "I already explained it to you! Ashley just wanted to fulfill a dream by taking wedding photos with me. You know she has a heart condition and can never get married in her life. I'm the only one she trusts." I stared at him, stunned. "Daniel, let's break up."' A flicker of panic crossed Daniel's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. "Chloe, don't try that with me. I, Daniel, have never been threatened by anyone." "Go apologize to Ashley right now. I'll let this slide, and the wedding will proceed as planned." In ten years of dating, this was the first time I felt Daniel was truly repulsive. Before, I might have thrown a tantrum over Ashley, but now, it felt completely unnecessary. I ignored him, walked into the bedroom, pulled out the wedding invitations, gently tore them to shreds, and scattered them on the floor. The red paper confetti drifted down like snowflakes. "Daniel, I'm not marrying you!" Daniel sneered, "Chloe, you said it yourself. Don't you dare regret it!" *Slam!* Daniel slammed the door and left. I don't know when Daniel started acting like this. Whenever I questioned his behavior, I was met with either accusation or the silent treatment. Maybe he'd always been like this, and my love had just blinded me. Daniel didn't like having his picture taken. Our joint photos during our relationship were few and far between. I had to nag him for ages just to get him to agree to the wedding photos. According to him, taking such things was meaningless; they'd just gather dust at home. I disagreed. I thought even when we were old, looking at them would bring back beautiful memories. I visited countless photography studios before finally choosing a style I loved. During the shoot, Daniel was completely uncooperative. He'd complain the clothes were uncomfortable or posing was too tiring. The two-day photo shoot we'd planned was crammed into a single day, leaving two outfits untaken. But who would've thought he'd turn around and take a full set of wedding photos with Ashley? Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired, utterly exhausted. I had loved him for ten years, endured him for ten years. Now, I just didn't want to torment myself anymore.