He looked sullen and ignored me, so I stepped past him.

From the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, I carefully retrieved the meat pies my mother had made during her last visit.

I held them gently in my arms.

As I turned to leave, Eason deliberately tripped me.

It made me hit my head on the corner of the table.

He frowned, clearly annoyed. "Why are you treating that junk like it's precious? You should've thrown that garbage out long ago! The refrigerator reeks because of those old meat pies!"

I forced myself up, my hands pressing against the floor where the meat pies scattered.

My vision was blurred by the blood slowly trickling from my wound.

Eason, towering over me with a grim expression, lit a cigarette with a disdainful flick.

"Yara, stop being so pathetic. Do you think groveling on the floor is going to change anything? Just because I helped Cindy yesterday, you're acting like this?

"The wedding was a sham, so why are you flipping out now?

"Can a fake wedding be more important than human life?"

He still thought I was just mad about his absence from the wedding.

It wasn't about the fake ceremony.

It was about never being important to him.

For five years, I had been the lesser one in our relationship.

Perhaps compared to me, Cindy could be a better wife that he was satisfied with.

I was always waiting for him to come home.

All I got was news that he and Cindy were socializing together.

I sent him messages, asking him to drink less.

But all my messages were met with the red exclamation mark of being blocked.

Sometimes, they would stay out so late that they'd book a room in the same hotel. Cindy would unblock me from his phone just to send a message with their room number and a photo of them together.

"Yara, I'll take good care of Mr. Garcia. You should get some rest!"

Cindy did take care of him, and now Eason didn't need me anymore.

I stared coldly at Eason. "You're right—human life is important. But not my mother's, right, Eason?"

His face darkened at my accusation.

As I dragged my suitcase to the door, Eason yelled at me.

"Do you really have to go insane today? Can't I go to the hospital and apologize to your mother? I'll even bring Cindy along if you want! Is that enough? Do you want me to put her hospital IV list in front of your mom?"

His outburst made my chest burn with rage.

In his eyes, my mother and I were just unreasonable nuisances.

Seeing the fire in my eyes, Eason's doubt flickered for a moment as he moved to grab me.

But Cindy held him back.

"Her mother's tickets must be fake; she probably didn't even make it here. It's not that her mother's unhappy. Yara's just mad because you missed the wedding yesterday. Don't worry, I can explain it to her with a hospital certificate."

That was the last straw. A surge of anger consumed me, obliterating my restraint.

I snatched the black bag from the shoe cabinet and hurled it at Cindy's head. Then, with a fierce grip, I slammed her head against the wall.

The moment I lashed out, Eason's briefly softened demeanor turned into an explosive fury.

He stormed over, yanked the suitcase from my grip, and flung it across the room.

Clothes scattered everywhere.

As he stomped forward, his leather shoes crushed the meat pies on the floor. I gritted my teeth, staring at the mess beneath his feet.

"Yara, my patience is wearing thin. Stop dragging innocent people into our problems!" he spat.

My hands trembled as I stood there, frozen.

Cindy, with tears welling up, gazed at me innocently.

"I'm sorry, Yara. I just wanted to check the tickets and pick you up at the airport, but I didn't expect..."

Tears spilled from her eyes, mixing with the bits of crushed meat pies on the floor.

"I was only trying to help. The Garcia family has a lot at stake. There are too many cases of people using children to trap and marry into wealth. I..."

She looked at Eason, bit her lip, and shook her head, playing the victim perfectly.

My eyes grew colder, my voice devoid of warmth.

"Eason, do you think I'm lying?"

He didn't answer, but his expression said everything.

The medical records were real.

I had accompanied my mother for the check-up six months ago.

So Cindy she focused on the plane ticket.

My mother didn't take a plane.

Airfare was too costly.

To save money for my dowry, she endured a grueling 30-hour train ride in a hard seat.

It was just to attend a wedding that didn't exist.

Yet Eason couldn't even be bothered to play his part.

In hindsight, he had never truly reciprocated my feelings. Our ending was inevitable from the moment we met.

I deluded myself into believing he loved me, searching for signs in every moment we shared.

Everything was fine for five years.

But Cindy's arrival shattered that fragile balance.

Eason started feeling real emotions—joy, anger, sorrow—and he learned to love.

He would consult me when Cindy had a stomachache.

He'd stock allergy medicine in the car for her.

He paraded Cindy at every event of the Garcia Group, introducing her as his perfect work partner.

In comparison, I felt like a rat, undeserving and discarded.

Even when I laid down my pride, allowing him to trample over my dignity, I couldn't secure a place in this battle for his heart.

I no longer wanted what I could never have.

Cindy's face swelled from where I had hit her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Eason, seething with rage, cursed as he tended to her, applying ointment with practiced ease.

After soothing Cindy, he turned to me, his tone threatening.

"Yara, stop being so shameless. Cindy did nothing wrong. When she woke up in the hospital yesterday, the first thing she did was urge me to find you at the wedding."

"Look at yourself now—a jealous wreck! How can you even compare to her kindness?"

"Yara, this is your last chance—apologize to her!"

"If you cause more trouble, get out of here!"

I ignored him, focused on gathering my scattered belongings.

As time ticked by, Eason's patience wore thin.

He strode over, grabbed my hair, and yanked my head back. His face twisted with rage.

Pain shot through my scalp as I gritted my teeth, refusing to scream. My eyes, bloodshot, locked onto his.

"Didn't you hear me? Or have you forgotten how to apologize? I've spoiled you too much, Yara!"

"Want your mom's meat pies so bad? How do they taste now?"

He shoved my head toward the floor, rubbing my face into the mess. I bit down hard, but he forced my head against the ground, smearing my lips and cheeks with the mess and tears.

His dissatisfaction festered. He yanked me upright, slapping me hard across the face.

A metallic taste filled my mouth as blood blurred my vision.

"Why don't you speak? Show me how tough you are! Come on, open your mouth!"

He picked up a somewhat intact meat pie, crushing it into my face.

"Is it tasty? Do you like it? Apologize to Cindy now!"

"Or I'll make sure your mother gets sent back to where she came from!"

Eason's neck veins bulged as he gasped for breath.

Cindy stood by, her hand covering her forehead, tears streaming down her face.

Seeing this, Eason turned to me, his voice cold and sharp. "Yara, do you not understand what I'm saying?"

My eyes grew colder, and I let the blood from my face trickle down.

When he noticed something was off, a flicker of panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a frown and a squint.

Cindy's voice was weak as she tried to mediate. "Please, don't fight because of me. I'm really fine."

"I'm sorry, Yara. If I had known, I wouldn't have come back with Mr. Garcia. I thought explaining in person would help..."

She moved towards me slowly.

She bent down and reached out to help me up. But as soon as she touched my arm, I shoved her away.

The force was too strong. She stumbled and hit the cabinet, groaning in pain.

Eason immediately rushed to her, checking her hand with concern. After ensuring she was okay, he turned to me, glaring.

"Yara, don't be so shameless!"

"Do you have any idea what Cindy went through for your fake wedding? If you acting like his, I'll expose your lies right in front of your mother when we hold the fake wedding for her!"

Fake wedding?

My laughter was bitter and mocking.

"What did she sacrifice for my wedding? To pretend to be the bride at your wedding? How noble."

I clapped slowly, blood from the corner of my mouth dripping down in a mocking curve.

"Eason, isn't it absurd to talk about making up for my wedding? There's no need for it now or ever!"

My voice was ice cold.

His eyes bored into mine, as if trying to find a shred of guilt.

He thought my anger was mere jealousy, just like before.

But today, the reality was clearer than ever.

He gritted his teeth and spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.

"Yara, my patience with you is limited. Think carefully before you speak."

"Don't forget, you begged for this on your knees! If you miss this chance, you won't get another!"

"It was your mother's last wish to see you marry me. Is that not her wish anymore? Are you honoring her memory?"

I lifted my eyes, laced with sarcasm. "When did you have patience with me? I've thought it through. Thank you for your generosity. My mother and I don't deserve it. Leave the wedding for those who need it."

I glanced at Cindy with a sneer.

Eason's eyes narrowed, sensing my defiance, and he spoke cautiously.

"Not worthy? Or are you afraid someone will find out your mother's terminal illness is fake?"

"I know it was wrong for me to miss the wedding. I've already arranged for a specialist to consult with your mother about her condition. Why are you refusing the wedding now? What terminal illness are you afraid will be exposed?"

His words froze my blood. I clenched my fists so tightly that my knuckles shook.

"Eason, shut up! What right do you have to mention my mother's last wish?"

"Her wish was for me to be happy, not to marry you!"

"Who do you think you are? Do you think you're worth my mother's life? We don't need your fake kindness or your damn consultation!"

"From now on, we have nothing to do with each other! We never need to see each other again!"

With each word, Eason's face grew darker until it was as black as a storm cloud.

He hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yara, you better think twice before spewing such nonsense! Has your mother's illness rubbed off on you, or has your brain taken a vacation?"

I watched his lips move, and any lingering love I had for him turned into pure hatred.

Eason grabbed his phone and dialed the wedding company.

"Cancel the venue I rebooked yesterday. From now on, no woman named Yara Lopez is allowed to book any events there! I don't care who she will marry, don't take it!

"And if you do, shut down your company and go back to farming!"

He hung up and immediately called another number.

"The expert consultation I arranged for Ms. Yara Lopez—cancel it immediately."

There was a stunned pause on the other end before a hesitant voice replied.

"I'm sorry, but Ms. Yara Lopez's consultation was canceled yesterday. The patient has passed away."