Sophia stepped out of the fitting room in her everyday clothes, her fingertips still tingling from the delicate fabric of the wedding gown.

An assistant approached with a measuring tape, meticulously recording every contour of her body down to the millimeter.

Settling onto the sofa, she scrolled through photos on her phone—images of herself in the wedding dress, breathtakingly beautiful. She couldn't bring herself to delete a single one, saving them all instead.

"You like it that much?" Ethan's voice came from beside her. "Let's do a wedding photoshoot."

Sophia's head snapped up, surprise flashing in her eyes.

Why would a couple on the verge of divorce need wedding photos?

Ethan ruffled her hair gently. "Don't overthink it. I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon."

Audrey handed her a warm glass of milk. "The owner of the studio next door is a friend. Everything's arranged."

Sophia cradled the glass, the temperature just right against her fingers.

She stole a glance at Ethan. Sunlight scattered across his sharp profile, his lashes casting delicate shadows.

Even his silhouette was heart-stoppingly handsome.

The following evening, Ethan waited outside the hospital entrance right on time.

The makeup room buzzed with activity. Sophia closed her eyes as brushes swept softly across her face.

"Your skin is flawless," the makeup artist marveled. "What's your skincare routine?"

Sophia hesitated. The French-labeled bottles on the vanity had been Ethan's doing. After three years, she still couldn't pronounce the brand name.

"My husband buys them," she murmured.

The artist sighed enviously. "How thoughtful."

Thoughtful? Sophia stifled a bitter laugh. What kind of thoughtfulness came from a soon-to-be ex-husband?

"Sophia, you're getting photos too?" A saccharine voice pierced the air.

Isabella fluttered over in a bright yellow dress like a butterfly. She deliberately raised her voice: "Must be nerve-wracking for someone from the mountains, getting professional photos for the first time?"

Curious glances turned their way.

Sophia opened her eyes calmly. "Wedding photos."

"Wedding photos before a divorce?" Isabella's face twisted. "Or are you just clinging desperately?"

"It was Ethan's idea." Sophia closed her eyes again, signaling the artist to continue.

When she emerged, she spotted Isabella practically glued to Ethan, their heads close together in conversation.

Sophia quickened her pace.

"Ethan!" Isabella suddenly shrilled. "A wedding photoshoot right before divorce? How inappropriate!"

Ethan didn't look up. "I want to."

"You've always hated photos!" Her voice trembled.

Finally, Ethan lifted his gaze—past her, to Sophia. A faint smile touched his lips. "Depends who I'm photographing with."

The words struck Isabella like a slap, draining her face of color.

"Uncle Victor promised you'd marry me!" She grabbed at his sleeve.

Ethan stepped aside. "Take it up with him."

He strode to Sophia, taking her hand. "Stunning."

Sophia mustered a sweet smile. "You're quite handsome yourself."

Fingers interlaced, they walked toward the studio—only to release each other the moment they turned the corner.

"Thank you," Sophia whispered.

Ethan slid a hand into his pocket. "Don't mention it."

In the studio, flashes erupted in rapid succession. They followed the photographer's directions—embracing, gazing lovingly—the perfect picture of newlywed bliss.

"Absolute perfection!" the photographer gushed. "I've never seen a couple so perfectly matched."

Sophia's smile ached. What did being matched matter when social divides remained unbridgeable?

Suddenly, Ethan's arm encircled her waist, his warm breath brushing her ear: "If you can't bear to leave, then stay. I'll change whatever you dislike."