[Local News Update: Around 2 PM today, the deck of the Lover’s Bridge suddenly collapsed. Emergency rescue teams are currently conducting search and rescue operations. Drivers and pedestrians are advised to take alternate routes and avoid falling debris!]
Gretchen Marxhausen was right there at the disaster site. Believing Bernard Golberstein was trapped under the rubble, she gritted her teeth and began digging with her bare hands.
People tried to pull her away, but she ignored them. Her hands were covered in blood, but she wouldn’t stop.
But when she turned her head, she saw him carefully carrying his childhood sweetheart out of the passenger seat. The two clung tightly to each other.
And then they kissed—for three long minutes—and walked away without looking back to the wrecked site.
‘If forcing something only made it bitter, then there’s no need to hold on.’
Gretchen turned away and made another phone call, agreeing to a marriage proposal with someone else.
A week later, she was set to go to her engagement ceremony with him.
——
“Gretchen, why’d you just leave without waiting for me? Are you trying to get back at me? Listen, both my parents were trapped under that bridge! Did you intentionally want to embarrass me?!”
Bernard Golberstein stood outside his car, looking pissed, and a flashy red sports car was parked in front of her house.
From the passenger seat, a faint shadow in red hinted at someone waiting inside.
Faced with his series of accusations, Gretchen was silent while Bernard’s chest rose and fell in frustration, his anger finding no outlet.
She found it hilarious. ‘At the time, wasn't it him holding Marjorie like the world would end if he loosened his grip for even a second? And now he’s got the nerve to turn it around on me?!’
“Are you jealous that I saved Marjorie first?” Bernard finally snapped.
“Come on, she’s delicate! You think she could handle such a violent impact? What if she got hurt? What if she fainted?”
“But you? You hit the gym every day, right? A bump or a scratch isn’t gonna kill you, so why are you acting so dramatic?”
Gretchen was even more speechless this time.
When the bridge collapsed, the first car to plunge was hers.
The driver was in a panic, not knowing what to do, and they plummeted straight to the bottom.
Good thing it wasn’t a long drop, and Gretchen woke up.
The first thing she did was kneel on sharp gravel and, dizzy with pain, dig at the bricks with her bare hands.
Within moments, her fingers were dripping with blood, and her entire body was drenched in sweat.
That was when she saw Bernard, running past her with Marjorie Fowler cradled in his arms to get her to the nearby ambulance.
“Doctor, please save her!” he begged, his voice desperate as he gently set Marjorie—who seemed to have only a bit of dust on her—onto the stretcher.
“I know you’re upset,” Bernard said now, “but you and I are getting married! We need to be mindful of how things look!”
Gretchen raised her eyelids slightly. “Right,” she said, “ I am getting married. But not to you, Bernard.”
He looked at her as if he’d just heard the most absurd joke, stepping back a few paces to size her up.
“Hey, did you lose your memory? You’ve been chasing me for how many years?! Don’t forget, you’re not exactly young anymore. You think any of the rich guys who know about us would actually marry you?”
Looking at his mocking smile, Gretchen felt her arm start to ache again.
“I’m a bit tired. I need to rest,” she said, reaching for the door.
“No way!” Bernard snapped, blocking her. “There’s a family dinner later. As my parents’ soon-to-be daughter in law, you have to be there.”
“Bernie!” Suddenly, a sweet, delicate voice rang out.
The sports car window rolled down slowly, revealing Marjorie sitting inside and waving at Bernard.
“My face got scratched! If you don’t take me to the hospital now, I’m afraid my beauty will be ruined!”
Bernard hesitated, glancing at Gretchen’s bandaged hands.
“You need your dressings changed too, don’t you? I’ll just drive both of you there.”
