Waiting for the Right One

After six years of being in love, just when Jonah and I were discussing marriage, he suddenly told me to wait a little longer. His reason? He had to hold a grand wedding with his first love before he could marry me—because it was his first love's dying mother's final wish.

He couldn't bear to let the elderly woman pass away with regret, so he tearfully made a promise by her hospital bed, swearing that he would give her daughter a home.

But he forgot that my mother had also been longing for my wedding for a long time.

I stood there, stunned, my chest tightening with disbelief. "What about me?"

Jonah exhaled sharply, his brows knitting together in frustration. "Can't you have a little empathy? It's just a two-month delay—are you that desperate to get married?"

His words struck like a slap.

I swallowed hard and tried again, my voice quieter. "Jonah... my mother has a heart condition. She's been waiting for this for years. She—"

Before I could finish, he took out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly. Right in front of me, he booked his marriage registration appointment with Nadia.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

He didn't even hesitate.

"Either way, Nadia will be the bride for this wedding. Your mother has to wait, even if she's on her deathbed, for all I care."

I stared at him, barely recognizing the man in front of me. The same Jonah who had once held my hand and vowed to love me forever was now casting me aside like I was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience.

As he turned on his heel and walked away, I felt something inside me snap. My fingers clenched around my phone as I dialed a familiar number.

"Ronan," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "I need a new groom for the wedding in ten days. Can you help me find one?"

——

Silence. Then, my brother's incredulous voice. "Arabelle, what the hell is going on? You're replacing the groom? Marriage isn't a joke! Mom will be devastated if she finds out!"

It was precisely because I knew my mother couldn't handle the shock that I turned to my brother for help. For six years, Jonah had refused to meet my parents. So, even though my mother knew I had a boyfriend, she had never seen his face.

"Ronan, I'm serious. I can't marry him."

I had no intention of committing bigamy.

I expected my brother to lecture me, to tell me I was acting recklessly. Instead, after a beat of silence, he let out a heavy sigh.

"I told you to be careful with him when he started seeing you behind my back. If you hadn't been so damn crazy about him, I wouldn't have even bothered acknowledging him." His voice lowered, almost contemplative. "But honestly? This is probably for the best."

He hesitated, then added, "You know, before Mom and Dad even knew about you and Jonah, they already picked out someone for you. Remember that guy who always stared at you like he was hypnotized? Turns out, he's been waiting for you to break up. Just the other day, he was joking about crashing your wedding if he thought Jonah wasn't good enough..."

At his words, an old memory resurfaced—one I had buried long ago.

Back then, my parents had indeed mentioned another suitor, but Jonah and I had already been secretly dating for two years.

I was devoted to Jonah. How could I have even considered marrying a stranger?

I still remembered the way Jonah had reacted when I told him.

He was furious.

The moment I hung up the phone, he had pinned me against the wall, his kisses burning with possessiveness, as if he could erase the mere thought of another man.

"Arabelle, you can only marry me—no one else!"

His voice had trembled, his eyes red with emotion. That night, he had held me so tightly, whispering over and over that I was his forever.

He had even finally admitted to my brother that he had been dating me, confessing that we had already made a lifelong commitment to each other.

Ronan had scolded him for sneaking around behind his back, but in the end, he let it go—on one condition.

"Promise me," my brother had demanded, "that you'll love and cherish her more than I ever could."

Jonah had knelt right then and there, swearing without hesitation.

"In my life, I will only love Arabelle."

His "life" turned out to be incredibly short.

The wedding was just ten days away and I had no time to waste.

I cut my brother off before he could say anything else. My voice was calm, but my decision was already set in stone.

"Then let him be my groom. He doesn't need to crash my wedding."

As soon as I finished speaking, movement by the doorway caught my eye.

Jonah.

He had returned—probably to grab the ID card he had forgotten—but now, he stood frozen in place, staring at me as if I were a stranger.

"Crashing the wedding?" His voice was sharp, laced with suspicion. "Who's crashing a wedding?"

His expression darkened as he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto mine.

"Arabelle, I said I'm marrying you and I mean it! If you still want to be my wife, then stop playing games! If you dare to ruin my wedding with Nadia, don't blame me for leaving you!"

The absurdity of his words nearly made me laugh.

He was the one marrying someone else. And yet, in his twisted mind, I was the villain.

For six years, on every birthday, he had promised, "We'll get married next year."

But every "next year," he had always come up with an excuse. A delay. A reason to avoid meeting my parents. A reason to postpone the wedding.

And now, he had found the perfect excuse. His first love's mother's dying wish. How poetic.

I met his gaze, my heart eerily calm. For the first time in six years, I didn't feel the urge to cry.

I only felt exhausted.