Over breakfast, Paula suddenly perked up and announced, “Let’s go race car driving today!”
The words hit me like a punch. Race cars—something that had once been ours.
I fell in love with Jason because of racing. Back then, during a chaotic race, a car had spun out of control and hurtled straight into the crowd. Jason had thrown himself in front of me, shielding me from the crash and ended up in the emergency room.
That day, I promised myself I’d marry him. And he had promised me the same.
Now, watching him sit beside Paula, smiling fondly, the memory left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Paula turned to me unexpectedly, her voice sweet yet sharp. “Hailey, you should come too.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but Jason shot me an irritated glare.
“Stop looking like you’re mourning your own funeral. Don’t ruin the mood.”
Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the car.
Paula immediately slid into the passenger seat, leaving me no choice but to sit in the back. I didn’t care. I had more important things to do—I answered a call and spoke quietly, ignoring their antics.
“Hailey,” my mother’s voice came through the line, “let’s set the wedding for one month from now.”