The Runaway Groom

Seven years after registering our marriage, my husband Gaius and I finally decided to hold the romantic wedding ceremony we had missed back then.

That day, I wore the wedding gown I had designed myself and walked toward him with hopeful eyes.

Before I could deliver my carefully prepared vows, an incident interrupted the moment.

Amid the stunned murmurs of the guests, Gaius dashed toward the woman who had fainted—again—at my wedding.

His voice trembled with urgency, eyes burning red. "Call an ambulance! Now!"

He didn't even look back as he left the wedding hall.

When the wedding bell rang seven times, I calmly pulled off my veil.

Facing the guests who had yet to disperse, I smiled and said, "As you can see, today marks the divorce ceremony between Gaius and me. Please, eat and drink to your heart's content. Don't let the trip go to waste!"

Gaius didn't even bother to call and explain.

The next day, I saw his update on social media.

The time stamp read 3 a.m. The photo was of two hands clasped together. The caption read, "All my life, I've wandered endlessly, never stopping. Yet twice, I've paused for you."

Without a moment's hesitation, I liked the post and left a comment: "Best wishes!"

Just as I set my phone down, it rang. The screen displayed: Husband.

I thought he had seen my comment and was calling to explain.

But the moment I answered, a delicate, breathy voice came through, followed by a faint cough:

"Donna, cough... cough... it's me, Michelle."

Whatever hope I had left shattered in an instant.

Swallowing my disgust, I said coldly, "What do you want?"

Maybe my uncharacteristic calm caught her off guard, as she paused for a few seconds before replying, "Gaius went to heat some water to wipe me down. He even left his phone behind—he's so careless!

"Donna, about yesterday... I didn't expect to get sick and ruin your wedding. Please don't blame him, okay?"

After a breathless string of apologies, I heard Gaius's gentle voice in the background. "Michelle, why are you up? Go lie down. I'll explain everything to her."

"Cough, cough... you're always like this. I just have a little illness, but you panic like it's the end of the world. It's really not that serious."

I'd long grown used to Michelle's fragile act, so I wasn't curious about how this scene would unfold.

But the two of them seemed determined to drag me into their performance, using me as a prop to complete their tragic romance.

The disgusting lines kept coming.

"I'll never let anything happen to you," Gaius said, his voice thick with affection—the same affection he once reserved for me.

"I know, you're the best to me. Now, you should go back and finish the wedding. Donna's been waiting seven years for this. I promise, this time I'll control myself and stay away, okay?"

Her voice cracked at the end.

Gaius's tone softened further. "Don't worry. The wedding's canceled.