I thought about that ruined proposal. The restaurant I'd booked, the ring I'd picked out, the empty chair across from me. A bitter smile twisted my lips.
My friend looked at me, her voice sincere.
"I'm sorry, Rosie. I should have told you sooner."
"At least you two never got married. At least I didn't let you waste your whole life."
A memory surfaced unbidden. In my previous life, when I'd woken up in the hospital and seen my mangled hands, I'd wanted to throw myself out the window. Then Eugene had dropped to his knees and proposed, swearing he'd take care of me forever.
This same friend had been standing there. I remembered her expression now, the complicated look in her eyes, the way her congratulations had sounded hollow and forced.
She must have been agonizing inside.
The thought made my chest ache. I pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you for telling me."
That evening, I'd barely walked through the front door when the housekeeper told me Eugene had come by.
My father and I exchanged a look. He nodded to the housekeeper to let him in.
What I hadn't expected was that Eugene had brought Sylvia with him.
The moment he saw my father, he lowered his head, adopting a humble posture.