I had been caring for her for years. She had been paralyzed from an accident long ago and was incontinent.

On the night Ryan was finally moved by me and wanted to discuss marriage, I overheard Mrs. Miller talking in her sleep:

“If it weren’t for these useless legs, Sophia wouldn’t have left him because of me. My sweet son wouldn’t have been forced to settle for Emily Carter as a wife…”

Later, I finally met Ryan’s so-called first love, Sophia, at my bachelorette party.

The moment Sophia appeared, Ryan’s whole body tensed.

It was the first time he’d ever been so openly affectionate with me in public, but even that intimacy felt hollow, fragile, and fake.

That night, he even fed me cantaloupe by mouth in front of her.

With everyone cheering, my face turned pale.

“I’m allergic to cantaloupe.”

He remembered Sophia’s alcohol allergy but had never cared about mine.

Everything he did was just to make Sophia regret abandoning him.

But what he didn’t realize was—humiliation always fell only on me.

Looking at the farce before me, I felt exhausted.

All these years, I had wiped and cleaned for Mrs. Miller without ever once complaining, but now I was done.

“Ryan Miller, are we still getting married or not?”

The laughter in the hall froze, and Ryan instantly let go of Sophia.

Sophia looked at my cold expression, like a frightened bird.

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I upset you. Mrs. Miller, I’ll leave now.”

Seeing her acting so pitifully made Ryan strangely irritable.

He ignored me completely and stopped her.

“You’re not married yet, so why are you calling her Mrs. Miller? Can’t you read the room?”

“The boss didn’t say you could leave. If you walk out now, do you want to get reported? Stay where you are!”

The air turned heavy.

Finally, my bridesmaid broke the tension, jokingly pushing Ryan away.

“Hold on, the groom can’t just whisk away the bride right after the photoshoot. You’ve got to get through the wedding games first!”

The door slammed shut, separating Ryan and the groomsmen from us.

My bridesmaids stood ready.

“Listen up, groom! You’ve got to answer the questions right if you want to take the bride!”

“First question: when was your first kiss with Emily?”

It should’ve been an easy question, but Ryan fell silent.

My fists clenched tighter.

Then a groomsman blurted out carelessly: