I had been caring for her for years. She had been paralyzed from an accident long ago and was incontinent.
On the night Ryan was finally moved by me and wanted to discuss marriage, I overheard Mrs. Miller talking in her sleep:
“If it weren’t for these useless legs, Sophia wouldn’t have left him because of me. My sweet son wouldn’t have been forced to settle for Emily Carter as a wife…”
Later, I finally met Ryan’s so-called first love, Sophia, at my bachelorette party.
The moment Sophia appeared, Ryan’s whole body tensed.
It was the first time he’d ever been so openly affectionate with me in public, but even that intimacy felt hollow, fragile, and fake.
That night, he even fed me cantaloupe by mouth in front of her.
With everyone cheering, my face turned pale.
“I’m allergic to cantaloupe.”
He remembered Sophia’s alcohol allergy but had never cared about mine.
Everything he did was just to make Sophia regret abandoning him.
But what he didn’t realize was—humiliation always fell only on me.
Looking at the farce before me, I felt exhausted.
All these years, I had wiped and cleaned for Mrs. Miller without ever once complaining, but now I was done.
“Ryan Miller, are we still getting married or not?”