Chapter 3

It was valentine day, and a nurse walked in with a bouquet of flowers, smiling brightly. "Dr. White is in surgery, but the flowers he ordered for you have arrived."

Yes, he was always so thoughtful.

I placed the flowers in a vase and gazed out at the cars passing below the hospital, each car seemingly carrying a pair of lovers. Last year's Valentine was spent with York, but this year, everything had changed.

"Do you like the flowers?" Suddenly, a pair of large hands wrapped around my waist from behind. It was Woodruff.

"I do,"

"How about we go out for dinner tonight? I've reserved a table at a fancy restaurant," Woodruff whispered, nibbling at my neck.

"Sounds good,"

At 8 PM, I changed out of my hospital gown and joined Woodruff at the restaurant. As expected, it was a high-end place.

The decor suggested the food might be expensive, though I couldn’t tell if it was any good, but I could already taste the wealth in the air.

Sure enough, the dishes that arrived were Michelin-level. Woodruff clearly paid great attention to me.

Amid our light conversation, a familiar voice suddenly called from behind. "Uncle."

I turned, and my heart nearly shattered. It was York.

"York, Winnie is here too," Woodruff responded.

I quickly turned away, not wanting to meet his gaze, though I could tell York was equally stunned.

"I was just checking in on my patient," Woodruff tried to lighten the awkward atmosphere.

"Well, since Uncle’s friend is here, we won’t stay. Let’s go, York," Winnie said, pulling York away.

York walked slowly, struggling, probably because he couldn't understand the situation—his uncle was sitting across from his ex, who hadn’t officially broken up with him yet.

As York and Winnie sat down nearby, I lowered my head and tried to eat, but the food had lost all its taste.

A wave of resentment and jealousy surged inside me.

"Marry me," Woodruff suddenly said.

My mind was still reeling from the shock of seeing York, the man who had betrayed me and left me when I was sick.

I stared at Woodruff for a moment and then answered, "Yes."

Woodruff’s excitement was palpable. "What? You said yes?"

"Mm,"

"Wait here," Woodruff stood and walked toward the front desk, speaking briefly with the manager before returning to my side, grabbing my hand.

The manager approached, pushing a cart with wine and flowers, followed by a violinist.

Woodruff knelt beside me, pulling a ring from his pocket.

As the violinist began to play, we became the center of attention.

In front of everyone, Woodruff slipped the ring onto my finger.

The room erupted in applause, offering us their blessings. But York, seated nearby, wore a shocked and worried expression.

Less than a year after breaking up with York, I was marrying his uncle.

Woodruff rushed to plan our wedding as if afraid I would disappear if we slowed down.

We began writing invitations, and since Woodruff was York's uncle, I knew he would come.

I quickly wrote York’s name on the invitation, imagining how he would regret his actions when he saw me on my wedding day.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

It was York.

I froze for a second, thinking, Could he already regret it?

"Hello, what’s up?"

There was a brief silence on the other end before he spoke. "Don’t marry my uncle."

Does he regret it already?

"Don’t you want me to live long?"

"No, you can hate me, but don’t marry my uncle. You have to trust me. We were together for five years. Have I ever lied to you?" His voice shook.

"Did you lie to me? What about you and Winnie?"

"It’s not what you think. We didn’t do anything," he hurriedly explained.

"I saw your phone." I cut him off.

There was silence on the other end.

"No one stays a fool forever. I have to finish writing wedding invitations. Goodbye."

Before he could say more, I hung up.

The more he suffered, the better I felt. It felt like all the pain from the past was finally being repaid.

I deleted York’s contact information and blocked him.

"You deserve it. This is the price of betrayal."

"Are you done?" Woodruff’s voice startled me. I hadn’t realized he was standing behind me.

"Almost," I quickly closed my phone.

"Who was that?" Woodruff asked, noticing my unease.

"Telemarketer," I lied.

Woodruff paused, "Let’s go to the marriage registration office today."

"I thought we were doing that after the wedding?" I asked, surprised.

We had previously agreed to register after the ceremony.

"Maybe I just want you so much. I’m afraid someone might steal you away,"

"Okay, let's go to the registration office this afternoon," I replied.