"If I can't get your forgiveness, I'd rather die!" she exclaimed.
Then she collapsed over the railing. Almost simultaneously, Caleb rushed over, slamming me against the wall. But he missed. Caleb could only vent his anger on me again.
He glared at me fiercely, his eyes bloodshot, "If Michele gets hurt, I'll never let you get away with this!"
It wasn't until I saw Michele fall onto the safety cushion that I understood the meaning behind her triumphant smile as she fell. But Caleb didn't see it. Or rather, biased people never see it.
He sighed in relief, pointing at me through gritted teeth, "Don't try any more of those 'playing hard to get' tricks on me! If you hadn't provoked her, Michele wouldn't have jumped off the building in a fit of anger!"
I lowered my head and gave a self-deprecating smile. See, even if it wasn't my fault, he would firmly believe that I deliberately sabotaged her.
After returning home, it got dark. Thinking about how Caleb carried Michele away without looking back after leaving the police station, I felt incredibly depressed.
I picked up the carefully prepared dinner laid out on the table and gave a self-deprecating laugh. For ten whole years, Caleb had never let me cook. I never imagined that my first time cooking would ruin our wedding.
After throwing everything into the trash, something poked my foot. Looking down, I saw Caleb's wedding ring, with a childish brown hair clip stuck to it. They must have accidentally ripped it off in the heat of the moment.
I felt a wave of nausea. The scene of our wedding flashed before my eyes, Caleb holding me tightly and saying he would never betray me. He would never be like my heartless father, favoring his mistress over his wife. He would never leave me alone and helpless.
Tears streamed down my face as I nodded vigorously through my blurred vision. But he hadn't kept a single one of those promises. As for Michele, she saw me as her enemy rather than her teacher. And that ring we exchanged, engraved with both our names, now lay on the floor.
I thought I could hold back, but the physiological tears still wouldn't stop flowing. I bent down to pick them up, gently rubbed them between my fingertips and then threw them in the trash.
When exactly did this begin?
Was it love at first sight when I first introduced them to each other at the dinner table?