Our Vows Were Fake, Theirs Were Real

Chapter 4

I gave ten years of my life to that man, and all I got in return was,

"I'll never forgive you."

The words hit like a tidal wave, dragging me under.

I stood there, staring at the wreckage of the home I'd once poured my heart into. My chest tightened, but my mind was crystal clear. I called a repairman that night and told him to bring a sledgehammer. If this place meant nothing to them, then I'd make sure it meant nothing to me either.

Once the house was reduced to rubble, I packed up and returned to my grandfather's.

Three days later, I got a call from the cemetery.

"Someone offered a large sum to relocate your grandfather's grave," the manager said. "We wanted to check with you first."

I felt like the ground was crumbling beneath me.

My grandfather had been a teacher, respected and gentle. After I donated my liver to save Timothy, Grandpa worried constantly about my health. He used to pray every night, saying he'd trade what was left of his life to give me peace and happiness. Before he passed, he asked me not to put up a tombstone or engrave his name, he said he was ready to go.

I rushed to the cemetery, heart pounding.

And there they were.

Mia and Timothy.

They saw me immediately.

"You followed us here?" Timothy asked, like he couldn't imagine I had any reason to be there unless I was chasing him.

I didn't answer. I didn't have time for his arrogance.

Mia stepped in front of him, puffed up with self-importance like a hen guarding her chick. "Timothy is my husband now, Evie. Stop clinging to someone who doesn't want you."

The smugness in her voice made my stomach turn.

Timothy gave me a pained look. "Evie, I know this is hard for you. Just… give it a little more time, okay?"

I was exhausted. I had no energy left to argue.

"Don't flatter yourselves," I snapped. "You're both shameless. You deserve each other. I hope you die the same month, same year."

I walked right past them, not even sparing a glance.

Timothy hesitated, stunned that I didn't cling to him like I used to. Then he followed, catching up.

"You're still mad?" he asked, like I was the one being unreasonable. Like everything we had meant nothing to him.

He sighed. "The doctor said Mia's condition was serious. I panicked. I had to go find her."

Then, as if that explained everything, he added, "I wasn't trying to leave you. It's just one year. After Mia…"

I cut him off.

"I don't need you anymore."

He blinked, thrown off by how calm I sounded.

"It's over, Timothy," I said. "I won't marry you. Stop calling. Stop showing up. Just… stop."

Something in his face cracked. Like he finally realized I meant it. Desperation flickered in his eyes.

He pulled out his phone and barked into it, "Find two high-quality sandalwood bracelets. Mr. Joe liked them. I'll bring them to him myself. I need to apologize."

Too little, too late.