My whole body ached, and I was running a high fever.
Griffin sat by my bedside, clutching my hand tightly, his face etched with worry.
"You're finally awake… You scared me to death."
While unconscious, I'd dreamed of us holding hands at City Hall, of moving into the lakeside cabin we designed together.
But it was only a dream.
"I'm sorry," he began, his voice thick with guilt. "I've told you about Clara before. We grew up together in a small town in Oregon, but we broke up after high school. We just… wanted different things."
"You have to believe me—in these eight years with you, you've been the one I love. But when she suddenly reappeared, her wrists covered in scars… She told me that if I couldn't give her a home, she would end her life…"
His eyes, which had always been so captivating, were filled with tears again.
"I couldn't just watch her die. But believe me, as soon as her condition stabilizes and she's no longer trying to hurt herself, I'll divorce her immediately. It won't be long. You have to believe me."
"And what if her illness never gets better?"
I stared at him with cold, steady eyes.
"I…" He was at a loss for words. Just then, his phone rang.
His expression shifted instantly, but after a glance at me, he answered the call.
"Sweetheart, I'm a little busy right now. I'll be home soon, okay? Remember to take your medicine. I'll bring you a gift when I get back. Of course I love you. Why else would I be doing this?"
Though he lowered his voice, his sweet nothings, meant for another woman, echoed in the quiet hospital room.
My boyfriend. Calling another woman his sweetheart. Making promises to her right in front of my face.
Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them.
The moment he hung up, he reached out to wipe them away.
"Get out! You're disgusting!" I slapped his hand away with all my strength.
For a few seconds, he just stared at me with a frown, as if he couldn't comprehend my anger.
"Can't you even try to understand my situation? I promise, I'll marry you as soon as she's better. It's only a year or two. Can't you wait that long?"
His voice softened again, coaxing. "Come on, let's not fight. I just wanted to ask you something. Clara's wedding is so rushed… Can we borrow your grandmother's veil? It would look just as beautiful on her. I promise I won't damage it."
I stared at him, so outraged I almost laughed. He had the audacity to ask for my grandmother's heirloom veil—for another woman to wear.
My out-of-control shrieks brought the doctor and nurses running. Seeing me gasping for breath, they quickly ushered him out.
That night, alone in the quiet hospital room, I unlocked my phone again. The engagement post was still there, the photo of him and Clara announcing their love to the world.
This time, there were no tears. My heart was completely numb.
If he had never truly cared about my love or my feelings, why should I waste my grief on him?
He was juggling two women, feigning affection, playing both sides.
In a strange way, I was grateful. At least I saw his true colors before we made it to the altar. It wasn't too late.
Soon, the day of their wedding arrived.
In the days leading up to it, he had the audacity to ask me for the veil again and again.
I told him bluntly, "No. If she wants it, she can buy it for ten thousand dollars."
"What? That's extortion!" he exploded.
On the other end of the line, I could hear Clara's delicate voice: "But I want that one. The ones at the bridal shop are so plain."
In the end, Griffin hesitated, then gave in.
"Fine, ten thousand it is. And… we both hope you'll come to our wedding."