I stared at him, feeling utterly numb. Marry her? Heal her? Then divorce her? The absurdity was beyond words.
But what did it matter? I nodded halfheartedly and that was all he needed. He left, looking satisfied—as if everything had fallen into place.
He never came back after that.
But Paula didn’t stop. She flooded social media with photos—wedding invitations, engagement shots and even pictures of her kissing Jason.
Meanwhile, I quietly left the hospital and returned home. My parents were already preparing for my wedding. Designers, makeup artists—everything was being arranged to ensure I looked perfect on the big day.
Time passed quickly. On the day of my wedding, as fate would have it, our car ran into another wedding procession.
To my disbelief, it was Jason’s car.
He got out when he saw my father, polite and deferential. “Mr. Johnson! What a coincidence. Is this your daughter’s wedding? Let me clear the way.”
As he turned to leave, his gaze drifted toward the backseat. For a moment, he froze.
