My Mother Died At My WeddingChapter 1
Before she died, my mother endured a grueling thirty-hour train ride in a hard seat just to attend my wedding with Eason.
I had knelt at the Garcia family's doorstep for ten hours with my mother's medical records, begging Eason to fake this wedding to comfort my mother before her death.
But when the time of the wedding, I screamed for him, but he was nowhere to be found.
As my mother stepped into the wedding venue, she collapsed and died, turning my wedding day into her funeral.
After dealing with her funeral arrangements, I saw a post by Eason's secretary Cindy Perez at midnight.
[The unloved one is always the third wheel.']
I calmly texted Eason to break up.
Eason returned home, not alone but with Cindy.
By the time I finished my mother's funeral, it was early morning. I returned to our cold, empty apartment and took off the cheap wedding dress I had rented.
It had been ten hours since I sent Eason that breakup message.
This wasn't the first time Eason had left me for Cindy.
Ever since she came into the picture, our dates were frequently interrupted.
It was either an allergy attack or a stomachache.
Eason treated her minor issues as emergencies.
Initially, I argued, but eventually, I realized my position.
I grew numb.
I sat on the cold tile floor and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up, Eason was sitting on the sofa, smoking. His face was full of impatience as he looked at the wedding dress thrown on the sofa.
"Why are you sleeping here? Why not go to your room? You scared me to death when I walked in."
He said, frowning at my red and swollen eyes. "It was just a wedding. It was fake anyway. Can't I just give you a real one later? Why are you so dramatic?"
As he spoke, Cindy walked in with a bag of breakfast and the keys.
Instantly, all my vulnerability was exposed.
Sensing the tension between us, Cindy spoke in a sweet, innocent tone.
"I'm sorry, Yara. I had terrible cramps this afternoon and almost fainted. If Mr. Garcia hadn't found me and taken me to the hospital, I might have died."
I glanced at her delicate face indifferently, too tired to respond.
Cindy then seemed to remember something and took out a black plastic bag from her purse.
"Mr. Garcia ran several kilometers to buy this for me, but it's not suitable. I'll give it to you, Yara."
She batted her eyes, feigning innocence.
She thought I still cared about our fractured relationship.