The Bride He Left Behind

At Grace’s wedding, Bruce’s sister spiraled into a depressive episode and threatened to take her own life. To calm her, Bruce slipped Grace’s wedding ring onto his sister’s finger—replacing the bride in that moment. Later, his eyes rimmed red, he pleaded with Grace. “She’s my sister. I didn’t have a choice. But I swear I won’t touch her. Once she’s better, I’ll divorce her and marry you. Just wait for me a little longer. Please, Grace?” Seeing his pain, Grace agreed to wait. Three years passed. No word of a divorce came. Then she spotted him at the prenatal clinic. … Grace stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the man near the entrance. Emotions churned inside her. He was bundled up, only his eyes visible. Yet she could still make out the crimson teardrop mole at the corner of his eye. A familiar face rose in her memory—someone with the same mark. In their most intimate moments, he would whisper, *Kiss it for me.* Just then, the clinic door swung open. Nova walked out, beaming. “Bruce, we’re having a baby. The doctor says it’s already six weeks.” The man lowered his mask, revealing his face. His tone softened. “Then follow the treatment plan carefully. We can’t let your condition affect our child.” Grace stared. That face matched the one in her memory perfectly. A cold dread seeped into her bones, leaving one thought echoing: *Bruce broke his promise.* Suddenly, Bruce seemed to sense something. He turned and looked in her direction, but the crowd blocked his view. “What are you looking at?” Nova followed his gaze. “Nothing.” Bruce shook his head and took Nova’s hand. “Let’s go home. Mom and Dad will be thrilled.” From behind a nearby pillar, Grace watched them leave. Tears traced down her cheeks without permission. Memories flashed through her mind like a slideshow. Eight years ago, she had left for university. The moment she stepped off the train, her backpack was stolen—with all her money and her phone inside. Stranded and lost in an unfamiliar city, she cried until her eyes were red and swollen. That was when Bruce appeared. *Tears won’t fix this*, he told her. He took her to review security footage and helped recover her things. Before leaving, he teased, “I just saved the day. Not even a thank you?” Grace’s face flushed. Awkwardly, she signed her thanks. Bruce didn’t understand sign language, but he waited patiently. Then he chuckled, a hint of resignation in his voice. “So you’re a little mute? Adorable. Consider your thanks received.” They met again soon after on campus. Grace learned Bruce was a senior, one year ahead. The attraction was immediate. Before long, he confessed. Under a plane tree, the young man—cheeks faintly pink—told her he liked her. Grace, feeling the same, blushed fiercely. Flustered, she signed back, certain he wouldn’t understand. To her surprise, he leaned down and brushed a feather-light kiss on her lips, then smiled. “I can tell. You like me too.” Their sweet campus romance began. They married just one month after graduation. But on that day, Grace learned Bruce’s sister, Nova, was in love with him. Heartbroken, Nova’s depression surged, and she tried to take her life at the wedding. Bruce had been adopted by the family—his name never added to the household register. To protect their daughter, Billy and Helen pressured Bruce to marry Nova. Torn between his true love and the family who raised him, Bruce made his choice. He chose to abandon Grace. Overnight, Grace became the laughingstock of Capital City. Yet that same night, Bruce found her, eyes red-rimmed. He’d struck a deal with his family: the marriage to Nova would last only three years. Once the term was up, he would divorce her. During those three years, they could not force him to consummate the marriage. Only a night had passed, but strands of gray already touched Bruce’s hair. Seeing the torment in his eyes, Grace’s heart softened. She agreed. Now, with the three-year mark nearing, Bruce had broken his vow. Not only had he been intimate with Nova—they were expecting a child. However much it hurt, Grace knew she had to keep her own promise to Bruce. She took out her phone and sent a message to a saved number. “Susan, about your offer to join the design team—is it still open? If so, I’d like to accept.” The reply came, delighted. “Of course! You’re a once-in-a-century talent. Our doors are always open. When can you start?” “I need to get my passport sorted. It might take about two weeks.” She and Bruce had made a pact: if he ever broke his vow, she would leave him forever.