He had no time to worry about anyone else’s fate; no one mattered more than his beloved sister.
As he helped Emily out of the car, his gaze remained fixed on the taxi across from them, where two figures inside appeared to be in distress.
A bystander opened the driver’s door, calling out, “Hey, are you alright?”
The driver pressed his hand against the bleeding wound, his voice shaky. “I’m fine, just feeling a little dizzy.”
Whitney, clutching her injured shoulder, managed to exit the taxi as well.
The pain was excruciating, as if her bone had fractured, sending waves of agony coursing through her.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” someone asked, concern etched on their face.
Whitney shook her head, the reality of the situation settling in as they all waited for the ambulance to arrive.
Her gaze drifted to a couple nearby, locked in a tender embrace, and her heart clenched painfully at the sight.
‘It’s them,’ Whitney thought, a pang of jealousy and longing washing over her.
Carter noticed Whitney, his expression darkening. “Why is it her?” he muttered, a mix of disbelief and frustration in his voice.
Seeing her clutching her shoulder, he instinctively wanted to rush forward.
No matter what, Whitney wasn’t a stranger; in just two days, she would be his wife.
Emily’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Whitney, a flash of cold hatred igniting within her.
“Carter, I-I feel faint at the sight of blood,” she stammered, her voice trembling as her knees buckled beneath her.
Carter immediately caught her waist, concern flooding his features. “What’s wrong, Milly? Are you okay?”
Emily’s lips curled into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. “I’m fine, just scared. Carter, was the person we crashed into Whitney?”
Carter pressed his lips together, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “Yes, it was her. But don’t worry about her right now. You’re still feeling dizzy. She should be fine.”
Whitney watched coldly as Carter pulled Emily into his arms, all of his concern now directed solely at her.
And as for Whitney, he didn’t spare her another glance.
‘Whitney, see? That’s the man you once yearned to marry,’ she thought bitterly, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her shoulders.
Two ambulances arrived, their sirens wailing as paramedics rushed to assess the injured.
“Over here, doc. The injuries on this side are more serious,” Carter called out, waving them over with urgency.
Four paramedics split up; two approached Carter and Emily, while two headed toward the taxi.
The medic first tended to the driver, bandaging his forehead before assisting him into the ambulance.
“Ma’am, are you hurt anywhere?” one of the paramedics inquired gently.
Whitney shook her head, though her voice trembled as she spoke. “My shoulder might be broken.”
Upon hearing that, the paramedic quickly secured a splint on her injury, their professionalism a small comfort amidst the chaos.
Carter and Emily’s injuries turned out to be relatively minor, yet Whitney couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that filled her chest as she watched Klein follow Emily into the ambulance, his back turned to her, oblivious to her pain.
A nurse approached Whitney, her expression softening. “Ma’am, let’s get you into the ambulance. You should get an X-ray to see if you need surgery.”
“Okay,” Whitney replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked away, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.
In that moment, she realized that it wasn’t just a chill that enveloped her; there was a deeper coldness that seeped into her very bones, leaving her feeling utterly alone.
Carter found himself standing outside Whitney’s house, his finger pressing the doorbell repeatedly for what felt like an eternity-ten minutes, to be exact. Each ring echoed in the stillness of the suburban morning, a desperate plea for attention that seemed to fall on deaf ears.
The sound of a door creaking open drew his gaze to the neighbor next door, who had poked her head out with a scowl etched across her face. “Young man, that girl left this morning. Stop ringing. You’re giving me a headache,” she snapped, her voice sharp and unyielding.
Carter felt a wave of humiliation wash over him as he met her unfriendly glare. With a heavy heart, he turned away, the weight of his frustration pressing down on him like a leaden cloak. Whitney had completely blocked him-his number, his WhatsApp-there was no way to reach her.
A surge of anger bubbled up inside him. Tomorrow was supposed to be their wedding day, yet here he was, standing alone, while she wouldn’t even come out to face him and admit her mistakes. He couldn’t shake the thought that his father and Samuel had already sealed their business deal, leaving him to wonder, ‘Does she honestly believe she has any other option but to marry me?’
Yet, amidst his irritation, a flicker of concern crept in. More than anything, he wanted to check on her broken hand. ‘How is she even going to wear a wedding dress tomorrow with that injury?’ he pondered, his heart aching for her.
In a moment of clarity, he remembered that Whitney had missed her final wedding dress fitting. How could he have forgotten that crucial detail?
*****
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Whitney stood outside the operating room, her body trembling from a mix of cold and anxiety. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, but it did little to calm her racing heart. She inhaled deeply and dialed Samuel’s number, her voice steady but icy. “Grandma fainted. You need to come to the hospital.”
Samuel’s response was immediate and filled with irritation. “Whitney, where are you? Do you even realize the wedding is tomorrow? And who the hell was that guy who took you away yesterday?” His tone was sharp, like a whip cracking through the air.
“If you dare cheat on Carter, then you might as well admit I’m your father,” he warned, his macho bravado coming through in every syllable.
Whitney’s eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing in them as a mocking smile tugged at her lips. “I said Grandma is in the hospital, undergoing emergency treatment. And you’re still thinking about the wedding? Dad, Grandma isn’t just my grandmother. She’s your mother, too.”
It took a moment for Samuel to process her words, and when he did, the fury he had been harboring all night boiled over. “Isn’t your grandma in the nursing home? How did she suddenly faint?” he barked, disbelief coloring his voice.
Whitney steadied herself, drawing in a breath to keep her composure. “I don’t know. She’s still in surgery. When are you coming?”
Samuel glanced at the clock on the wall, frustration etched on his features. “I have to meet a cooperative partner later. I can’t skip this business. I’ll send Laura to the hospital first. I’ll come once I’m done.”
Whitney felt a wave of disbelief crash over her. ‘How could my dad be this heartless?’ she thought, her heart sinking further. The woman on that operating table was his mother. ‘Is his business truly worth more than his own mother?’
Her voice turned icy, a chill creeping into her words. “If that’s the case, then don’t bother to come.”
After hanging up, she sank down onto a chair outside the OR, her body feeling as if it had turned to ice. Her grandmother was the only person who had ever shown her warmth since her mother had passed away. Whitney could endure her own pain, but the thought of her grandmother suffering was unbearable.
With a flick of her finger, she swiped her phone screen, dialing a number with a sense of urgency.
In Lillyand, Klein sat at the dinner table, his mind wandering as he observed the animated conversations around him. The laughter and clinking of glasses felt distant, almost surreal. He had noticed that Whitney hadn’t replied to his messages the night before, and a nagging worry crept into his thoughts. ‘Is she upset with me for being too clingy?’
He found himself staring at her WhatsApp profile picture, longing for a glimpse of her presence.
K.H: [Dustin, come to my place and film my rabbit.]
Dustin: [What rabbit? Where did you get a rabbit? Since when do you keep rabbits?]
K.H: [Stop talking and go film it.]
Klein, determined to get Dustin’s attention, transferred 8 thousand to him.
Dustin was momentarily taken aback.
Dustin: [Mr. Harris, you think I’m some beggar you can brush off?]
Half an hour later, Dustin scrolled through his social feed and stumbled upon a fresh post from Klein. [Who wants to name this little guy?]
After posting, Klein eagerly clicked the first like that appeared, only to find that it was Lena who responded.
Lena: [Wow, Uncle Klein, you got a bunny? So cute, looks like I want to pet it.]
But the person whose response he truly craved remained silent.
Klein’s expression darkened, and he stood up abruptly, stepping outside to make a call.
“Hey, Uncle Klein. Did you want me to name your rabbit?” Lena asked, her voice cheerful.
“Lena, did you contact Whitney last night?” he inquired, urgency lacing his tone.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.