The Fickle Heart

Carl Anderson doesn't show up for our engagement party. I finally find him in a bar's private room after night has fallen.

"I only think of her as a sister. Who would've expected her to want to latch onto me like that? There's no way I'll marry her in this lifetime!" He downs his drink.

Later, when he and Angela Moran get married, he tells his friends to stop me at the entrance. He's afraid I'll crash his wedding and ruin it.

"Keep an eye on Iris, guys. Don't let her crash the wedding!" he says.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I show up with Henry Moran.

"Don't even dream of stepping in there, Iris!" Carl looks at me warily.

"You're so rude! You have to call her Aunt Iris now!" Angela greets me warmly and leads me inside.

As soon as I got home, I announced, "Carl and I have broken up."

When I saw Mom and Dad still in their formal attire, I slumped onto the couch with a look of sorrow.

"But both families have already come to an agreement about the engagement!" Mom exclaimed.

Mom and Dad stared at me in shock. They even dropped the mugs of tea they were holding.

"That's right. Carl's parents have given us their blessings, but Carl doesn't want to marry me," I replied before closing my eyes, feeling rather dejected.

Today, I was supposed to get engaged to Carl Anderson. Many prominent figures from the business industry had been invited to our engagement party.

Everyone watched as I stood there like a complete fool, waiting all day for Carl to come. I was subjected to all their comments and ridicule, and Carl didn't even show up.

Slamming his hand on the table in fury, Dad declared, "Tomorrow, I'll head over to see the Andersons and demand an explanation. They've gone too far!"

Dad wanted to stand up for me, but I replied, "Forget it. There's no point trying to force Carl to marry me. Can you think of anyone who would be a good match for me in our circle? If you can, introduce them to me."

I picked up my phone and started scrolling through my contacts list.

"You can't be so hasty," Mom said. "Perhaps there's some kind of misunderstanding between you two. Let me ask around tomorrow."

Mom looked at me with concern. She seemed worried that I would impulsively do something that I would regret.

"You don't need to, Mom. I'll think of something myself," I replied as my eyes fell on a name.

Henry Moran.

He was three years older than me. Once he reached adulthood, he took over the reins of the Moran family's company and had been in charge ever since.

When we were little, he kept teasing me, refusing to stop until I cried.

Out of the blue, I recalled that he once said I was too ugly when I cried. No one would want to