She was the one who had pushed him away.
Rejected his frantic explanation.
Rejected his protection.
Rejected his confrontation.
Rejected his proposal.
She had no right to be upset, no right to cry. After all, real life is not a drama on TV, and all people have a limit when it comes to someone treading all over their feelings, trampling their heart into the dust.
She had no right to rejoice, no right to laugh. After all, rejoicing is for friends of the couple, not ex-best friends who had left and pretended that they didn't care at all, and laughing is reserved for when something worth laughing for occurs.
She should have been glad. After all, this meant that there would be no more flowers on her doorstep, bearing a card that begged "Forgive me" in his familiar handwriting; no more days when he stormed in, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her off to a deserted place, his eyes screaming the cliché "We need to talk;" no more times when she felt her heart was shattering into a million different pieces as he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes.
So when Mouri Ran flipped open the newspaper and read the headline, "Famous Detective Kudou Shinichi Celebrates His Wedding," she wasn't upset.
(The tears that came to her eyes spoke otherwise.)
Because you were never meant to be mine, and you never will be.