"Natalia!" Finley snapped, frustration flickering in his eyes. "How long are you going to keep this up? This is ridiculous! We’re getting married soon. What's the point of calling it off now?"
He couldn’t believe what I was saying. The wedding was planned down to the last detail—the dress, the makeup artist, the diamond ring, even the hotel were all set. Everything was ready, just waiting for me to recover from surgery.
But as he looked at me, expecting me to back down, I met his gaze without wavering. Slowly, I opened my surgical gown, revealing the jagged, ugly scar that stretched across my lower abdomen.
"Does this look like the dream I wanted?" I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of betrayal.
The stitches were still raw and unremoved, making the scar look even more grotesque. I pulled the gown open wider, my voice sharp with hurt and anger. "So what? Are you just going to ignore this, Finley?"