Chapter 8: Vanishing Act

Emily replied with a smile,

She motioned with her hand. "It’s our wedding planner. She designed the rainbow."

"Shall I introduce you?"

Luke stared at the partition, walking closer step by step.

Emily looked at him in confusion.

The next moment, the partition was suddenly pulled open, but there was no one inside.

Natalie stepped over.

She flashed a quick smile. "If you have any requests, you can tell me—I’m the boss of the wedding company."

"The planner had to leave early."

Luke snapped back to his senses.

He put on his business smile. "It’s nothing. I just remembered I have an appointment. I’ll leave first."

With that, he turned and strode away.

His shoes clicked against the marble as he hurried out. Seeing there was no one, Natalie spoke into her phone, "She’s gone."

But I wasn’t gone—I was everywhere. In every ribbon, every flower, every corner of that ballroom. And Luke would never know.

I said gratefully, "Thank you."

That night, Luke came home.

He set his keys on the counter and approached me. "I brought you a gift."

With that, he wrapped a rainbow-colored string bracelet around my wrist.

His fingers lingered as he tied the knot. As Luke tied it, he watched my face closely.

I looked calm. "It’s pretty."

Luke scrutinized my expression.

His eyes searched mine, looking for a clue. "Babe, do you have anything to say to me?"

I looked down for a moment, then smiled and raised my eyebrows.

"What? You want me to thank you for a bracelet?"

Seeing me act as usual, Luke let out a sigh of relief.

He ruffled my hair. "This isn’t just any bracelet."

"Have you heard that saying? When you meet the right person, it’s like seeing a rainbow for the first time."

I pushed him away.

I laughed, a little too loudly. "Isn’t that a bit cheesy?"

Luke laughed and grabbed my hand.

He squeezed it, earnest now. "Rachel, I will definitely marry you."

"Will you wait for me for three years? I’m already working hard."

I didn’t answer, but for some reason, I remembered a therapy session from long ago.

My vision blurred for a second, and I drifted back. At the end of the session, the therapist whispered in my ear:

"Now, I’ll count down from 5 to 0. With each number, you’ll feel more and more awake."

"When I count to 1, you can open your eyes."

"When I count to 0, you’ll be fully awake, and feel better than before... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

"Now, 0."

The countdown to the wedding, for me, was a prelude to waking up.

Outside our apartment window, the Chicago skyline was lit up. Somewhere, fireworks burst in the distance, reflected in my glasses as I slipped them back on, finally seeing things clearly for the first time.

The lights of Chicago sharpened into focus—every window, every streetlamp, every possibility suddenly clear.