It had taken me a lot of effort to get Emilie into this nursing home.
The daily fees weren’t cheap, but I couldn’t handle her care alone. I’d had no choice but to send her there during the day and bring her back at night.
I stared into the phone, my voice calm.
“Thanks, Mr. Moody. But she has her own son to take care of her now. She doesn’t need an ‘outsider’ like me worrying anymore.”
After hanging up, I didn’t hesitate.
I hired a van, and with the driver’s help, we struggled to lift Emilie, along with her simple hospital bed, into the van.
The van jolted down the bumpy country road.
Emilie moaned a few times in her half-asleep state, sounding in pain.
I looked at her contorted face, and a flicker of pity and guilt crossed my heart.
But that feelings vanished quickly, replaced by a far stronger resolve. k his phone.
But it didn’t matter.
This was just a trailer, an opening line of the show to come.
I turned off my phone, leaned against the cold van window, and watched the night scenery blur past outside.
The city lights in the distance glowed bright, like a dream I’d never reach.
Once, I’d dreamed of building a home with Tristian in the bustling city.
Now, I was awake.
I was no longer the obedient village woman who’d centered her life on the kitchen and hospital beds.
From today on, I’d live only for myself.
I’d fight for justice for seven years of my wasted youth and the dignity that had been trampled underfoot. next morning, dawn had just broken.
Gray morning light filtered through the van window, falling on my face. I kept awake all night.
The van pulled up at the entrance of Tristian’s military camp.
The tall, imposing gateposts, the fluttering national flag, and the sentries standing guard at the gate all exuded an air of solemnity.
I paid the fare, then worked with the driver to heave Emilie’s hospital bed out of the van. We pushed it over to the guard room window.
The on-duty sentry tensed up immediately, stepping over to question us.
“Madam, what can I do for you?” His eyes were sharp, sweeping over Emilie on the bed and me.
I pulled my ID card and the now-invalid military dependent certificate, which I’d prepared beforehand, from my pocket and handed them over.
“Hello, my name is Christina Steele. I’m here to see Lieutenant Tristian Kent of your unit. He’s my… family. It’s an emergency.”
When I said “family,” there was a faint note of self-mockery in my voice.
The guard checked my ID, then glanced at the frail Emilie on the bed, looking troubled.
“His family? But… he just registered for marriage today and is on wedding leave.”
I sneered inwardly. So it was true. He indeed married someone else.
I feigned surprise and urgency. “Married? How is that possible? Then we have to see him! This is his mother. She’s seriously ill, and there’s a crisis at home. I can’t handle it alone. He has to come back!”
My acting must have been convincing, and Emilie did look truly unwell. The guard didn’t dare to delay, immediately making a call inside to report the situation.
After waiting for about twenty minutes, we were allowed in and told to wait in the reception room.
The reception room wasn’t large. Its windows were clean, and on the wall hung a slogan: “Be All You Can Be.”
I pushed Emilie’s hospital bed to the most prominent spot in the center of the room, then dragged a chair over and sat quietly beside it.
I was waiting for my ex-husband and his new wife.
At exactly nine o’clock, the reception room door was pushed open.
Tristian wore a crisp officer’s uniform, the rank insignia on his shoulders glinting in the morning light.
Standing tall with a handsome face, he embodied the confident, high-spirited soldier in every way.
Next to him was a beautiful young woman.
She had on a stylish red dress, her makeup flawless, and her face was lit up with unhidden shyness and joy.
It was Megan Owen.
They walked in chatting and laughing. Their sweetness was so sharp it stung my eyes.
But when their gazes landed on me and the hospital bed behind me, the smiles froze on their faces instantly.
Tristian’s expression was the most dramatic. In just a few seconds, his triumphant look turned livid.
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.