It started with a wedding. It always does. The union of two happy lovers is the start of a family and a blossom to the family trees. When a group of people are brought together, Fate can never resist the temptation to not intervene. After all, it was Fate that brought the bride and groom together.

It was a normal summer day. The sun looked down from the heaven and the summer breeze carried the blessings of delicate scent of roses that hung from the low terraces of the pavilion where the wedding would be held. Guests mingled amongst themselves, chattering about the recent events and tinkling of their tall glasses. The shades provided a good cooling for everyone but most importantly, supplied the cover for juicy gossips the high society just loved.

It was the second marriage of the telecommunication tycoon, Lee Ching Yi. At the age of early fifties, he was listed as one of the Asia’s most successful men. And just a few years back, became very eligible.

His wife, a woman of great beauty and poise, but not without problems of her own, had died in the hands of mental depression and a bottle of sleeping pills. In the wake of her death, she had left behind a dark legacy and a teenage daughter.

Now, the new bride was a young and equally beautiful woman in her late thirties. She had been Lee Ching Yi’s secretary previously before quitting her job to raise a child of her own. When the doors closed on Ching Yi’s late wife, it opened for the younger lady.

That day, while the soon-to-be Mrs. Lee sat her own daughter down for a talk, the only daughter of Lee Ching Yi sat alone at a corner of the gazebo. The creeping vines on the wall served a camouflage as she appeared invisible to everyone else; not even when she was dressed in an exquisite pearl white dress with elaborate accessories. Nothing about her called for attention.

In her hands was the only photo of her mother where the deceased woman was actually happy. The time-preserved beauty radiated from the still picture as the girl looked on sadly. Kept in her own silent prayer, a small tear fell from her face and onto the picture.

“I will always remember you, mother. I love you,” she ended her prayer in hushed whisper. She was going to call another woman ‘mother’ by the end of the day and it was time to make peace.

And just like that, Fate threw its cards in a form of a guy in black tuxedo and a handkerchief.

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