Dia Beri Mahkota Pernikahanku padanya

In Silver Hollow, an old silversmithing town, there was a longstanding tradition. Any man who wished to marry the woman he loved had to personally strike an anvil nine thousand nine hundred and ninety times to forge a handcrafted silver tiara as her engagement gift. It was the seventh year of my relationship with Caleb Donovan. At the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the town's annual silver craft exhibition, Caleb unveiled the exquisite silver tiara he had spent months crafting. Spotlights swept across the venue. Cheers erupted from every corner, and my heart raced with excitement. Just as I adjusted my dress and prepared to step forward to try on the tiara, I overheard his childhood friend speaking in a hushed voice behind the curtain. "Caleb, are you really planning to give that tiara to Camille Rowan as the prize for the Emerging Designer Award? Aren't you afraid Elise will find out and fly into a rage?" "Exactly. When Elise Marlowe loses her temper, she could tear this entire exhibition hall apart." The next second, Caleb let out a soft laugh. His tone was casual yet utterly certain. "She won't. Elise is the easiest person to placate. She only has eyes for me. Besides, women from her hometown who aren't married by twenty-eight are practically considered unwanted. "She would never dare make a scene with me. Besides, the engagement ring goes to Elise while the silver tiara goes to Camille. Everyone gets what they're owed. It also makes up for the regret I've carried all these years." So marrying me had been his backup plan all along? Easy to placate. Unwanted. Those words felt like thin, sharp silver needles piercing straight through my ears, but I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, I quietly stepped back, took out my phone, and sent a message: Elise: Grandma, I'll do as you say. I'm already twenty-eight. I won't wait any longer. I agree with the match you've arranged for me.