Suddenly, Isabella Bennett pulled me into her arms as a flowerpot crashed to the ground where I’d been standing.
My heart raced as I looked up at her, stunned.
“You’re still the same as when you were a kid. Always walking without watching.”
She released me, but kept hold of my hand as she led me inside.
Within minutes, we had our license.
Isabella had an urgent meeting, so I drove home alone.
I stared at the marriage certificate in my hand, dazed.
“How is she?” My father’s voice came over the phone, full of pride.
“She’s the one I chose for you. I knew I wouldn’t be wrong.”
Since I’d decided to let go of Claire, he had been searching for a suitable match. He’d collaborated with Claire often in business, which was why he once preferred her.
“She’s much better than Claire,” I admitted.
Then my eyes landed on Ethan’s newest post online:
[ Thank you for being there, making my mother’s passing less painful. ]
A scenic photo accompanied it.
I knew he meant Claire. And her “like” beneath the post stabbed me like a knife.
In ten years, she’d never once liked anything I posted.
Even the day my mother died, she had been too busy with classes to offer me comfort.