The moment I pushed open the hospital room door, my blood went cold.
Julian Crawford and Rose Winfield—in full wedding attire—were kissing at the foot of my father's bed.
The wet sounds of their mouths, the muffled little moans, amplified in the silence of the room until they were deafening.
A roar filled my skull. I clamped both hands over my mouth on pure reflex, the only thing keeping me from throwing up.
And then my father, who had been in a coma for so long, opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was the two of them tangled together. His eyes went wide, his throat producing a rattling “hrrk, hrrk” sound, but no words came.
I lunged for the call button, slammed it, then shoved the two of them apart. “What are you doing in front of my father?!”
Rose stumbled and only stayed upright because Julian caught her. Her eyes reddened. “Julian and I got married today. We just wanted to tell Dad the good news.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, my eyes burning. “You don't get to call him that.”
My father was lying in that bed because he'd been rushing to pick up her birthday cake when the car hit him.
He had always treated her like his own daughter. And this was how she repaid him.
My father's face drained from white to ashen blue. His hand rose, trembling, pointing at them.
“You…… how dare you……”
The next second, the monitor screamed.
I screamed too, desperate, and doctors and nurses finally rushed in.
It was too late.
My father's pupils slowly went flat and still.
Half an hour later, the heart monitor drew one long, blinding straight line.
The white sheet was pulled up over his face.
The doctor spoke quietly：“I'm sorry for your loss.”
I cried until I could barely stand, stumbling after the gurney down that long, dark corridor, watching the man who'd loved me more than anyone in this world become a small box.
Through the haze I was a teenager again, sobbing through my first heartbreak until the sky itself seemed to go dark.
He'd sat with me the whole night without a word, waiting until I had no tears left before saying, his voice rough:
“Ida. No matter what happens, Dad will be here.”
He lied.
From now on, no matter how hard it rained, I'd have to hold my own umbrella.
“Don't take it so hard,” Julian's voice came from behind me. “Think of it as a release.”
Rose nodded. “Yeah, lying there that long—being alive was just suffering. At least now it's over.”
I looked at their fake sympathy, shaking with a hatred that consumed my whole body：“Get out.”
Rose flinched, then pouted and hooked her arm through his. “So ungrateful. Come on, Julian, the ceremony's about to start. Let's go.”
He turned to follow her, but at the doorway his steps faltered. “You…… skip the bridesmaid thing. It's bad luck.”
“Get the funeral ready. Let me know the date, and I'll be there.”
I held the urn against my chest and smiled, cold and thin.
Julian Crawford, you're a dead man walking. Worry about yourself.
I dialed the number.
“Go.”
“I want Julian Crawford to see—clearly—that the woman who built him up can burn him to nothing.”
Julian Crawford. I hope you enjoy my wedding gift.
……
Before the ceremony.
Julian pressed a hand to his chest. His heart was beating too fast, and he knew it.
He kept seeing the look in Ida's eyes as he'd walked away. Those eyes that once held nothing but love for him, now stripped bare. Empty.
Empty enough to make something in him panic.
“Julian! What are you spacing out for? The ceremony's starting!”
Rose gathered her gown and threw herself into his arms.
He looked at her face, and for one disoriented instant: “Ida……”
The girl froze. Something sharp and envious flickered behind her eyes, but her voice only grew sweeter. “She's not coming, remember?”
“The guests are all waiting. We should get out there.”
He snapped back to the moment and gave a low “Mm.”
As he wrapped his arm around her and turned to go, he didn't notice the phone on the table buzzing nonstop.
They walked up onto the ceremony stage together.
The giant screen behind them suddenly lit up.
The entire hall erupted.
Julian turned to look and the color drained from his face.
