When the Red Ribbon Fell

Chapter One: When the Red Ribbon Falls to the Ground

She didn’t look back. The train of the white wedding dress moved steadily forward behind her, and the veil fluttered gently under the softer light as she walked, while the burgundy ribbon remained alone on the floor behind her, as if quietly waiting for those in the room who still knew nothing about the truth to discover.

Turning the corner, the suite finally disappeared completely from sight. The corridor is covered with soft gray-blue carpets, and the dark wood-colored wainscoting exudes an expensive and quiet atmosphere. There were no windows, no flowers, only the warm light embedded in the ceiling and the mirror-like smooth floor, reflecting her receding white figure.

Her high heels made a dull, determined sound on the carpet. The bouquet in her hand was heavier than before. She held it tightly against her waist. White roses, ivory petals, dark leaves, it was the perfect bouquet for a wedding that died before it even started.

Behind him, the older generation of guests lowered their voices and made sporadic and shocked murmurs. She couldn’t hear the specific words, but she could make out the shapes of the voices - confusion, anger, hesitant questions, and a voice calling Daniel’s name in an unfamiliar, cold tone.

The veil flutters lightly behind her. She walked slower than she expected. The intricate cut of the skirt restricted the pace, which had been seen as a form of elegance when it was first tried on. The fitted skirt, delicate train, and long lace sleeves make every move must be solemn.

But now, this outfit is more like teaching her a lesson: She could leave without having to flee in panic. She can have her heart broken without having to break down in public. She can suffer extreme humiliation without minimizing herself.

He holds his cell phone in his left hand. The black screen was pitch black. As she walked, she glanced down. Several unread messages already lit up on the screen. Bridesmaids. Wedding planner. Her mother.

There’s also a group chat full of cousins stocked with preparation photos from the night before, filled with excited inquiries about whether the flowers will arrive on time. She didn’t click on any of them.

It’s not time yet.

There will naturally be time later for explanations, numbers, logistics and the influx of phone calls. There will be time to listen to unsolicited advice. There will be time to listen to others downplay the betrayal as “wedding stress,” as if stress could be a natural license for betrayal.

But now, she just wanted one thing - to get out of that room. The burgundy red ribbon stumbled slightly under the heel. She stopped. The ribbon had caught on the hem of Elena’s skirt. She looked down. Its deep red stood out against the carpet and, beneath the corridor’s warm light, seemed almost luminous.

For a moment, she remembered the scene as the florist tied it into the bouquet. At that time, the other party asked her whether she wanted a beautiful bow or casual hanging ties.

“Randomly,” she said at the time, “I want it to move with me.”

It had indeed been swaying lightly with her all morning. But now, it was wrapped around her shoes like a burden. She carefully held the bouquet with one hand, bent down and unwrapped the ribbon with the other hand. The veil slid forward along her shoulders. The pearl earring on her left ear lightly brushed against her long lace sleeves.

She straightened up again. The ribbon slipped from her fingers. When she took a step forward again, it left a long, thin trail behind her. At the door of the suite, Miss. Bennet said something sharply. Daniel retorted, but she couldn’t hear the words clearly. Then, there was a sound that sounded like someone finally couldn’t hold it back and cried loudly but tried hard to restrain it.

Margaret (Elena) continued walking forward. She walked around the corner, and the suite’s porch was completely out of sight. There she stopped. There is a dull pain in my chest. Throat feels like fire. Dry and sore eyes.

She actually wanted to turn around.

Not because she still loves Daniel. Not because she wanted to forgive him. She wanted to turn around because leaving meant an irreversible decision, and the decision would turn loss into a bloody reality. She wanted to rush back to the suite and question every detail - when did it all start? Where were they fooling around? When he looked at her this morning, did he really feel no guilt at all?

How she wished someone could tell her that it was all just a prank that went wrong. But that room already had the answer. That bed. Those messy sheets. Clothes scattered on the floor. Camille’s face of despair. Daniel’s face was filled with panic.

There is no misunderstanding. There are only choices again and again. Elena looked down at the bouquet in her hands again. Due to holding it too tightly just now, the delicate petals have begun to turn slightly green and damaged.

She slowly loosened her clenched fingers. The red ribbon dragged several feet behind him, like a thin dark red line winding on the smooth floor. She thought of the ceremony waiting in the hall downstairs.

The guests will soon all be seated. The music played on time. People will stand up. They would wait eagerly for her to appear at the end of the corridor, her face covered with a white veil and her hands holding flowers.

They are waiting for a happy beginning. Yet here she stood alone in the hallway of a luxury hotel, holding in her hands the remains of a wedding that was destined to never happen. The thought almost made her laugh out loud.

Not because it’s ridiculous. It’s because when absurdity reaches its peak, the human brain often can’t find other emotions to place it. She gently wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye with her lace cuff, and then straightened her spine.

Her mother has always taught her since she was a child: dignity never comes from pretending that you have not been hurt. True dignity is refusing to let the person who hurt you determine who you become in the future.

It wasn’t until this moment that she truly understood the meaning of this sentence. She turned around and faced the end of the corridor. Behind her, the ribbon finally fell completely from the flower stem and fell quietly to the ground.

It made no dramatic noise, just let go easily. One end was still attached to her skirt, while the other end was bent into a gentle arc behind her, which looked particularly dazzling on the dark wooden floor.

Elena felt that the inexplicable bond in her hands completely disappeared. She glanced back one last time. The red ribbon lay there alone. For a brief moment, she even considered picking it up. After all, she picked it herself. That’s part of the bouquet. That was part of all the wonderful fantasies she had about today.

Then, she turned around and took a decisive step forward.

“The wedding is cancelled.”

Her voice was very soft, but it echoed clearly in the empty corridor. She never looked back. Her snow-white wedding dress moved forward steadily, and the veil led her towards the soft light, while the red ribbon remained on the floor behind her forever, waiting alone outside the room - and the others in the room had only just begun to learn to accept the truth.