Chapter 40 – The Words That Cut Deeper Than Goodbye

Aiko saw them the moment she stepped out of the bridal room.

The corridor was filled with guests, soft laughter, camera flashes, staff moving back and forth. Everything blurred until only two figures remained clear.

Yuji.

And Mai.

For a heartbeat, Aiko forgot how to breathe.

Mai was holding Rin’s hand, her small shoulders tense. Yuji stood beside her, his face pale, jaw tight, eyes darker than Aiko had ever seen them.

They were real.

Not a memory. Not a dream. Not a punishment imagined by guilt.

Her legs moved before her mind caught up.

“Yuji!”

Her voice broke as she ran toward them, the hem of her white dress brushing the floor, bangles clinking uselessly against her wrist.

Guests turned. Someone gasped. Cameras shifted.

Aiko didn’t care.

She stopped in front of them, breathless, eyes shining with tears.

“You came,” she said, hope trembling in her voice. “You really came… to stop the wedding, right?”

Yuji didn’t answer.

He didn’t even look at her.

He bent slightly, adjusting Mai’s jacket, his movements gentle, practiced, protective.

Aiko’s smile faltered.

“Yuji…?” she whispered.

He straightened slowly and finally faced her.

The look in his eyes made her heart drop.

There was no anger burning wildly. No shouting. No dramatic pain.

There was something worse.

Cold disappointment.

“How shameless,” Yuji said quietly.

The word struck harder than a slap.

Aiko flinched.

“You stand here in a wedding dress,” he continued, voice flat, controlled, “and still think you have the right to talk to us?”

Aiko shook her head, tears spilling freely now. “No, I—I just—Mai is here, and you’re here, and I thought—”

“You always think like this,” Yuji interrupted. “Only when things are in front of you. Only when you’re about to lose something.”

His eyes hardened. “You haven’t changed at all.”

The murmurs around them grew louder. Rin took a step closer to Mai instinctively.

Aiko’s chest felt like it was collapsing inward.

“That’s not true,” she said desperately. “I tried. I searched. I was lied to. I thought you were—”

“Dead?” Yuji finished coldly. “So you married someone else.”

Aiko’s lips trembled. “I didn’t want this marriage.”

Yuji laughed once, humorless. “You didn’t want a lot of things. But you still ran away every time life became difficult.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.

“You left us once. Don’t pretend you’re brave now.”

Aiko staggered back as if pushed.

Her gaze dropped to Mai.

Mai wasn’t looking at her.

The child’s eyes were fixed on the floor, fingers gripping Yuji’s coat tightly.

Aiko fell to her knees without caring who was watching.

Her dress spread across the marble floor like spilled milk.

“Mai,” she whispered, reaching out. “Please… look at me.”

Mai hesitated.

Slowly, she raised her head.

Their eyes met.

Aiko’s breath caught.

The eyes were hers. The same curve. The same softness. The same sadness.

“Mai,” Aiko said, voice breaking completely. “Don’t you want me… as your mother?”

Silence swallowed the corridor.

Mai stared at her for a long moment.

Then she shook her head.

“You aren’t my mother.”

The words were small.

They destroyed her.

Aiko gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“I—Mai, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I was stopped, I was scared—”

“You left,” Mai said quietly.

Each word was slow. Careful. Like she was choosing them not to cry.

“You didn’t come to me. Papa did.”

Yuji’s hand tightened on Mai’s shoulder.

Aiko reached forward again, desperate. “Mai, please—”

Mai stepped back.

“I already have a family,” she said.

Aiko collapsed forward, her forehead touching the cold floor.

Around them, time seemed to stop.

Yuji crouched in front of Mai, turning her gently so her back faced Aiko.

“Mai,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

Mai looked up at him immediately.

“Yes, Papa?”

Yuji swallowed.

“If your mother came with us,” he asked carefully, “would you be happy?”

Mai frowned.

She thought for a long time.

Then she shook her head.

“No.”

Yuji’s heart clenched.

“Why?” he asked, though he already knew.

Mai’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall.

“Because… if she comes,” Mai said slowly, “she will lose her happiness.”

Yuji froze.

Mai looked toward Aiko briefly, then back at Yuji.

“She is getting married,” Mai continued. “She looks pretty. People are smiling.”

Her small hands curled into fists.

“If she comes with us, she will cry forever. And Papa will be angry. And everyone will be sad.”

Yuji’s throat burned.

Mai whispered, “I don’t want to steal her life.”

Yuji pulled her into his arms instantly, holding her tight.

“You didn’t steal anything,” he said hoarsely. “You are my life.”

Mai buried her face in his chest.

Behind them, Aiko listened.

Every word carved itself into her heart.

She understood then.

This wasn’t rejection born from hate.

It was love so pure it chose pain over possession.

Aiko rose slowly to her feet, unsteady.

Her father’s shadow loomed at the end of the corridor. Guests watched from a distance. The wedding waited.

She looked at Yuji one last time.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not expecting forgiveness. “For leaving. For being weak. For everything.”

Yuji didn’t respond.

He simply turned away, lifting Mai into his arms.

Rin followed them silently.

As they walked away, Mai looked back once.

Just once.

Their eyes met.

Aiko smiled through her tears and mouthed, Be happy.

Mai didn’t smile back.

But she nodded.

And that was worse.

The doors closed behind them.

Aiko stood alone in white, surrounded by flowers and music and lies.

For the first time, she didn’t run.

She simply stood there, understanding that love didn’t always mean being chosen.

Sometimes, it meant letting go.