Chapter 1

For the 18th time, Tyra Stone calls off our wedding because I'm a beat too slow during the vows. She looks at me with utter disappointment.

"You know I'm a perfectionist. Why can't you follow the wedding schedule exactly? If you can't keep up next time either, maybe you should just let your best friend marry me instead."

My so-called best friend, Jeremiah Young, is known for being obsessively punctual. For some reason, Tyra has made him the standard I'm expected to meet.

If I come downstairs a minute later than he does after work, she will drive off with him without looking back.

If I arrive at the restaurant half a step after him on Valentine's Day, she will give him the candlelit dinner meant for me.

If I reach the airport 20 seconds after him for our anniversary trip, she will cancel my ticket and board the plane with him instead.

As a result, our wedding has been canceled 17 times. Each time, Jeremiah takes my place and goes through the entire ceremony with her.

To ensure the 18th attempt finally goes smoothly, I fill the hall with countdown clocks and spend more than 200 nights practicing in secret.

However, ten seconds before the vows are supposed to begin, Jeremiah jumps the gun and says, "I do."

Tyra chooses to go by his timing. She ignores me as the hundred-something clocks around us chime in unison. For the 18th time, she calls off the wedding.

It turns out the problem is never my timing. The problem is that I'm the groom, not Jeremiah.

If that's what she wants, I'll give her the perfect wedding she's been blindly chasing.

Tyra takes Jeremiah's hand again. "Watch closely. We'll show you one more time."

I laugh and casually slip the wedding rings onto their fingers. "Save it. I hope you two have a long and happy marriage instead."

Chapter 1

Caleb's POV

The wedding hall fell silent for a moment before Tyra Stone's voice broke the silence. "That line isn't in the script. Remove it."

She glanced at me coolly, clearly annoyed that I had added my own words without permission.

I froze, bitterness settling in my chest.

Even now, she still thought I was playing along with her perfect wedding game. To her, my thoughts and opinions were suggestions she could dismiss at will.

It wasn't just this. She removed my favorite cuisine and replaced the wedding menu with what Jeremiah Young liked instead.

She left out my closest friends and asked Jeremiah's coworkers to be my groomsmen. Even the wedding suit that had been passed down in my family for three generations was replaced by one he had picked out.

Whenever I complained, she always said Jeremiah's clothes fit her wedding theme better. She chose perfection, so she willingly disregarded all my preferences.

Somehow, when it came to Jeremiah, she was willing to throw perfection out the window and make exceptions for his mistakes.

Seeing me standing there in a daze, Jeremiah smiled and tried to smooth things over.

"Don't be so rigid, Tyra. Caleb meant well. Besides, I think what he said adds a nice touch to the wedding. It makes it even more perfect. Don't you think so?"

I was just about to tell him there was no point in convincing Tyra things she had already made up her mind about, but the next second, she caved under his gaze.

With a helpless sigh, she said, "Fine. We'll add it."

My fingers curled slightly at my sides. It felt like my heart had been pricked with thorns.

It wasn't as if I had never fought back after experiencing countless disappointments from Tyra, but not once had she ever compromised with me.

The worst fight we ever had was over the heirloom watch Dad had left me. I insisted on wearing it when we got married because I wanted my parents to be there in spirit and witness me finally finding happiness.

No matter how much I pleaded or argued, Tyra refused to budge. I even pretended to give in, planning to put the watch on only after the ceremony started.

She still called off the wedding five times rather than compromise on her principles.

Now, a door I had never imagined could open swung wide with just one word from Jeremiah. It turned out she wasn't incapable of breaking her own rules. I simply wasn't worth being the exception.

Amid my daze, Tyra had already wrapped her arms around Jeremiah and timed their staged kiss perfectly. The entire hall erupted in cheers.

Someone in the crowd laughed and teased, "Come on, Tyra. Everyone knows you're crazy about Jere. Do you really have to hold a wedding every few months just to rub your happiness in our faces?

"We've seen this whole groom-swapping act enough times already. It's getting old! Try something new next time!"

Tyra didn't say anything, but I could see the amusement in her eyes. She silently allowed this little stunt that wasn't part of the ceremony.

In doing so, she silently accepted me as the clown who had been swapped out 18 times in this ridiculous show.

I looked around the room. Every guest was either a friend or relative of Tyra's or Jeremiah's. The people who were close to me had long since been worn down by the embarrassment and humiliation.

It was no wonder no one recognized the real groom anymore.

Little did Tyra realize, even the most dedicated clown would eventually get tired. Sometimes, they, too, wanted to break free from all the strings that held them up and walk off the stage for good.

For me, I was finally ready to take my bow and leave her perfect little performance behind.

Chapter 2

Caleb's POV

Back in the dressing room, I took off my suit and changed into something more comfortable. Only then did I feel like I could finally breathe.

While I was packing up my things, Tyra and Jeremiah walked in. Tyra looked at me and, as usual, started lecturing me.

"You left the stage five minutes early this time, and you still missed the timing on the vows. That's another five points off your wedding score.

"Learn from this. Practice on your own for another five months before the wedding. Stop making us pay for your mistakes."

Tyra had always measured the perfection of our wedding with a number. Every point she deducted meant I had to practice for another month. First it was five months, then it was another five.

After 18 weddings, I had spent a full seven years waiting for her. Seven years hadn't been enough to secure me a wife, so what difference would an eighth year make?

I didn't have that many seven-year stretches left to waste, and I didn't want to wait around for nothing anymore.

Faced with my silence, Tyra took it as an agreement.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, looked genuinely curious. "Wait. You can lose points? I thought Ty's system was based on accumulating points."

He turned to me. "How many points do you have now, Caleb?"

My throat suddenly felt dry. "Negative five. What about you?"

"What? I have over six thousand!"

I stood frozen. Jeremiah thought I didn't believe him and eagerly pulled up his social media to show me.

The screen was filled with photos of Tyra and Jeremiah together, each one accompanied by the points he had racked up.

"Made the perfect coffee. Ten points for you."

"Left work right on time without working overtime. 20 points for you."

"Got into my passenger seat without getting wet from the rain. 50 points for you."

The latest one was posted three minutes ago.

"Cleaned up the mess that is Caleb's vows. 100 points for you."

The post came from an unfamiliar woman's account, but I recognized the profile picture instantly. It was the engagement ring I had given Tyra.

When I first found out that Tyra used a different account to follow Jeremiah, I assumed it was just an inactive side account. I thought she was being considerate.

Now, I realized the account sitting quietly in my following list, the one that never posted anything, might have been the real side account all along.

I stared blankly at those glaring numbers, my eyes burning so badly that I dared not look up.

Seven years of struggling just to accumulate negative points suddenly felt like a cruel joke.

Jeremiah seemed to realize something was wrong and immediately punched Tyra lightly on the arm. "This is on you. Caleb's your fiance. How can he only have negative five points?"

They started bickering over the score.

Meanwhile, I quietly took out my phone and texted one of my clients. "Mr. Lincoln, is the offer to transfer me to your international branch still on the table?"

"Of course!" he replied. "My flight leaves the morning after tomorrow. Should we go together?"

I looked up and met Tyra's deep gaze. My heart skipped a beat.

She frowned and clicked her tongue. "Fine. I'll give you five points. That way, somebody can stop saying I'm too critical and always giving you negative points.

"But if you wear this again next time, I'm deducting two points. You've worn it so many times. It's practically falling apart. You should've thrown it out ages ago."

Her eyes fell on the corner of the suit sticking out of my suitcase.

My hand froze around my phone before I sent the message. "See you then."

Then, I pulled the suit out. Along with it, I threw every piece of clothing and accessory Tyra had prepared for our perfect wedding into the trash.

"You're right. Old things should go into the trash."

Tyra stared at the pile of trash, hesitation crossing her eyes. Before she could say anything, the clock in the dressing room chimed.

I piped up, "It's time for the toast. If we wait any longer, we'll miss the mark."

At Jeremiah's expectant look, Tyra turned and left with him. Just before she closed the door, she paused. "Good job reminding me about the toast. That's another three points. You only need to practice for one more week."

"Don't worry," I said flatly. "Our next wedding will definitely go perfectly."

I kept packing without missing a beat, my heart still.

Little did she know that there wouldn't be another wedding a week from now. I stopped trying to become her exception, even though it might happen one day.

Chapter 3

Caleb's POV

When I got home, I booked my flight and packed only what I needed. Then, I took down all 36 clocks in the apartment, one by one. I even threw away all the clothes and accessories Tyra had insisted I wear.

Those things had always felt like shackles, forcing me to play the perfect boyfriend she wanted me to be. I wouldn't need any of them anymore.

I zipped up my suitcase and let out a long breath.

I was just about to call Tyra and end things when my phone rang.

"Is this Ms. Stone from Apartment 501, Building 3, Southgate Gardens? Your hangover soup delivery is here, but security won't let me in. You'll have to come down and get it yourself."

My heart sank. A wave of suspicion came over me.

That was the home Tyra and I had bought seven years ago for our future married life. Because of her perfectionism, we weren't allowed to move in until we had a successful wedding.

Hence, all these years, we had lived in a rented apartment instead, both of us agreeing not to cross that line.

When I drove over, I found the door slightly ajar. A man's drunken voice came from inside, "It's all because you kept docking my buddy's points! You drove Caleb away! We didn't even get a chance to take a picture together!"

The arguing and shouting continued.

Tyra laughed and scolded him, "You're such a drunk. Fine. It's all my fault. I won't dock him any points for forgetting the group photo session."

She indulgently caught his flailing foot and gently rubbed it. The gentleness in her eyes was overflowing.

It turned out she knew how to take care of someone, after all.

When I got drunk, all it took was leaning against her for her to throw me out of our apartment. She told me not to make a scene and to sober up outside before coming back in.

It was 14°F that night. I had been so cold that I practically swore off alcohol ever since.

Now, Tyra had willingly crossed that boundary. She brought a drunk Jeremiah into the home we had bought for our married life. She let him do whatever he wanted, leaving the whole room a mess.

I pushed the door open.

Tyra looked over, panic flashing across her eyes. When she saw the takeout bag in my hand, her brows immediately furrowed in irritation.

"Rule number three of the Perfect Boyfriend Handbook—respect each other's privacy before marriage. You looked through my delivery order, so that's minus ten points."

There was no explanation, just blame.

The absurdity of it all washed over me, and suddenly, I felt exhausted. When two people weren't on the same wavelength, every conversation just turned into static noise.

"Tyra, let's just end—"

Before I could finish, Jeremiah suddenly stumbled toward me. "Do not dock Caleb's points!"

He shoved past Tyra and grabbed my hand tightly. "Caleb, you didn't take a photo with me today. Are you mad at me? I didn't mean to steal your wedding. I'll give you the ring back. Can we make up?"

He took off the wedding ring, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't put it back onto my finger. The smell of alcohol hit me in waves. Irritated, I tried to pull my hand free.

Then, a sharp pain suddenly shot through my fingertip.

Tyra shoved me away and immediately grabbed Jeremiah's hand, shielding his finger. The look she gave me was as if I were some unforgivable sinner. "What the hell is wrong with you, Caleb Fisher?"

My groan caught in my throat, leaving me choking on the pain. She kicked the bloodstained ring far away, then helped Jeremiah onto the couch and pulled out the first-aid kit.

The blood on Jeremiah's finger had come from mine. It would've wiped clean in seconds, yet Tyra wrapped his finger in five thick layers of gauze.

Then, as if remembering something, she hoisted half of his weight onto herself and rushed him out the door. "I'm taking him to get a tetanus shot! Go home and think about what you did! The wedding is postponed indefinitely until he forgives you!"

With that, she hurried away, the wind kicking up dust and carrying my whisper away with it.

"But Tyra, I'm the one who got hurt."

Chapter 4

Caleb's POV

When I went downstairs, the car I had driven here was already gone. Tyra had taken it to the hospital, not bothering to ask whether I needed it or how I was supposed to get home in the middle of the night.

I tried calling a ride over and over, but no one accepted the request.

My finger was already swelling badly, so I gave up on going to the hospital and ducked into a small clinic instead.

When the tetanus shot pierced my arm, I clenched my teeth against the pain. Desperate for distraction, I opened social media. Jeremiah's latest post popped up first.

"First tetanus shot of my life. That crap hurts! Good thing someone took the pain away for me."

The photo showed Tyra's face in profile, complete with a bite mark. There was even a fond smile hanging on her lips.

She always said a perfect boyfriend was a man who knew how to be independent and take care of himself.

So, even when my gastritis pain was so bad I almost passed out, she ignored my pleas to go to the hospital. Instead, she sent me a link to order painkillers.

I thought that after years of her strict standards, I had built up a pretty high pain tolerance, but apparently not—my eyes still stung with tears.

The doctor paused, then gently pulled out the needle and told me to stay for observation. I nodded, but my eyes drifted back to the comments below Jeremiah's post.

"Didn't move a muscle during the shot. Perfect. 100 points for you. And here's the trip you've always wanted."

I opened the screenshot attached to the comment. It was a pair of tickets for a trip to Ritzland. My fingers hovered above the screen, frozen. For a long time, I couldn't bring myself to move.

This was supposed to be my honeymoon trip with Tyra.

Our wedding had failed for seven years, so that trip had also been postponed for just as long. She always said we could buy new tickets once the old ones expired, but we couldn't break the rules.

No one was allowed to let personal feelings get in the way of our perfect marriage.

Yet now, Tyra had turned our honeymoon into a prize and given it to another man. Could secondhand happiness still be called perfect? I had no idea.

I wiped away my tears and left a comment. "Have a safe trip. We're over."

All I knew was that I didn't want a secondhand honeymoon, and the same applied to the person.

The next second, Tyra started spamming me with calls. I kept rejecting her calls, so she went crazy with the messages.

"Was it fun making a scene under Jeremiah's post? Are you even reflecting on what you did?"

"He was generous enough to forgive you, so I gave him a trip as an apology. That's only fair. Don't make such a big deal out of it."

"Rule number one of the Perfect Boyfriend Handbook—always reply promptly. Minus five points."

Eventually, she seemed to compromise a little. "Be there at the airport at 10:00 am tomorrow. If you're on time, you can come with us."

I ignored her one-sided decision, then blocked and deleted both her and Jeremiah.

Then, I opened my client's message. "Our flight got moved up. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

I spent the night at the clinic, then took a cab back to the rental first thing in the morning. I grabbed my suitcase and headed straight to the airport.

While waiting for my flight, I spotted Tyra staring at me in disbelief. I glanced at my watch. It was only 7:00 am.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Jeremiah's excited voice came from behind her, "Caleb, are you coming with us too?"

He came rushing over with his suitcase, looking like he had barely made it there himself.

Tyra swallowed whatever she had been about to say and replied coldly, "No. He's late again."

As expected, her concept of time and punctuality was only lenient when it came to Jeremiah.

From the appointment she had pushed back by three hours to the blatant favoritism right in front of me, she had never intended to let me intrude on their little world.

After a brief pause, Tyra sighed helplessly. She pulled the wedding ring from her pocket, wiped it clean, and gently slipped it onto my ring finger.

"Be good. Jeremiah and I will be back in seven days. Get the wedding ready. I'll be there on time," she said matter-of-factly. "Now, don't be difficult. I won't dock you for being late either, okay?"

She still believed I was the same man who would foolishly wait for her, get jealous and throw a fit over her interactions with Jeremiah, and be easily placated by a single promise from her.

Unbeknownst to her, she was wrong.

Once I had made up my mind to leave, even an explanation felt like too much effort.

I watched them walk away. Then, I took off the ring and dropped it into the trash. After that, I turned and walked toward another security checkpoint, toward a future without her.

…

Third-Person POV

A week later, Tyra rushed straight to the wedding hall the second her plane landed. As promised, she arrived on time.

The moment she walked in, she froze. The hall was empty—no wedding, no guests. A wave of unease washed over her.

She hurriedly grabbed the venue manager by the arm. "Isn't today the Fishers' wedding? Where's everyone?"

The manager looked confused. "The Fishers? Mr. Fisher canceled all his upcoming wedding bookings a week ago. I heard he already left the country."