I stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe these words had come from the man I'd loved for years.
But then I remembered he'd gone so far as to sign a marriage certificate just to accompany Nellie for her treatment.
And suddenly, nothing he said or did seemed surprising anymore.
I was leaving anyway. Might as well grant him this one last favor.
"Fine."
Maybe it was how easily I complied that finally made Mark stop being blind.
He noticed the shattered wedding photo on the floor. Then his gaze dropped to the blood smeared across the top of my foot.
His eyes went red with panic. He rushed back into the bridal suite to grab the first-aid kit.
The moment he was gone, Nellie lifted her chin, her expression dripping with provocation.
"Grace, you really are pathetic. You already know I'm Mark's wife, and you still wanted to go through with the wedding?"
"So what if his mother doesn't like me? She can fight it all she wants. At the end of the day, Mark still calls me his wife."
"And you? You'll just be the other woman everyone spits on."
"Oh, and don't kid yourself thinking he'll divorce me and marry you in two years, because..."
She tugged her collar aside, revealing a trail of marks along her skin, her smile dripping with satisfaction.
"He told me I'm the first woman who's ever made him feel what ecstasy really means."
"Oh, and in case you didn't know, our first time was the night of your birthday."
I lowered my eyes to hide the tears that surged up without warning.
So Mark had betrayed me long ago.
And he'd played me for a fool, stringing me along for two more years.
My thirtieth birthday was the first time Mark had ever thrown me a real celebration.
Nellie had shamelessly confessed her feelings to him that night.
He'd torn into her in front of everyone, humiliating her so badly she couldn't show her face.
But on the drive home, he'd gotten some urgent call and dumped me on the side of a mountain road.
The next day, he came back full of apologies.
And proposed.
Said he wanted to give me a fairy-tale wedding.
I had waited eight years for that moment.
The joy crushed every ounce of unease I'd been carrying.
But that night, he forgot to lock the bathroom door. When I walked in, I saw the scratches raked down his back.
Fresh scratches. I demanded to know what happened.
He didn't even flinch. Said he'd been scratched by a cat.
Even pulled up his rabies vaccination record as proof.
I forced myself to believe him.
But a woman's intuition is a stubborn thing. Even while I was planning the wedding, none of it felt real.
A voice in the back of my mind kept whispering: He finally agreed to marry me because he'd done something unforgivable, and this was his way of making up for it.
I buried my head in the sand, too afraid to dig for the truth.
But I couldn't let it go, either. So I started following him in secret.
When I discovered that his so-called client meetings were actually trips to Nellie's apartment, I stopped confronting him. I just waited for him to come clean.
That was why I didn't push when he skipped the rehearsal.
When he texted saying he needed to be with Nellie for her treatment, I didn't object.
"Excuse me."
I had no interest in wasting words on Nellie. I just wanted to leave.
But the second Mark stepped out with the first-aid kit, she grabbed my hand and threw herself backward onto the carpet of broken glass.
A sickening crunch.
Blood. On Nellie's lips. On her hands. Everywhere.
She looked up at me, her voice slurred and trembling.
"Grace, I know you don't like me, but why would you push me?"
Mark saw the blood and lunged forward, shoving me to the ground.
"Nellie, don't be scared. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."
He scooped her up and bolted for the door.
Before he left, he turned back. His eyes cut through me, cold as steel.
"Grace, I never thought you could be this vicious. Attacking a sick woman. How could you be so heartless?"
