Proposal On The Wedding Day - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

He took one step after another toward me, only to be stopped by the bodyguards. His father was also present today. When the old man saw Gerard, his face turned red with rage.

“Babe, marry me. Come back with me,” Gerard said, dropping to one knee. While the crowd gasped in unison, I forced a smile and turned to Glenn, urging him.

“Well? Aren’t you going to put the ring on me?”

Glenn then slipped the diamond ring onto my finger. Meanwhile, stayed there, kneeling. He looked like he was about to collapse. His hand holding the ring trembled so much it was pitiful. I lifted the hem of my gown and walked over to him step by step.

For a second, his face lit up with hope. But the bloodshot veins in his eyes made him look terrifying. I took the ring from his hand and hurled it onto the lawn as hard as I could.

“You’re too late,” I said coldly.

Gerard shot up and, out of nowhere, pulled out a knife. The guests in the front row saw it first and started to panic. He moved fast, but I wasn’t his target. The whole scene erupted into chaos as Gerard charged toward Glenn.

I tried to stop him, but it was too late.

“Watch out!”

Someone went up to pull me out, and I got shoved aside. There was blood on the ground, but it wasn’t Glenn‘ s. The knife was buried in Gerard‘ s abdomen. His hands were covered in blood, and his voice trembled with pain as he looked at me.

“Yvaine, it hurts…..”

For a moment, I was transported back to years ago, when he‘ d insisted on cooking and ended up cutting his finger. He was like this at that time, looking at me with a wronged look. But this time, I wouldn’t hold his hand and bandage him up. Not anymore.

I hurried over to Glenn to check his injuries. Thank god, he only had a small scratch on his arm. Someone in the crowd called for an ambulance, and some gathered around Gerard.

His gaze burned into me, but I didn’t look back. Soon, he was taken away. The wedding was still a mess, but somehow, we got through it. After that, I didn’t see him for a long time. I heard that his father had locked him up.

Rumors also had it that he attempted to kill himself multiple times but was always saved in the nick of time. Later, they said the family head brought Gwyneth to him, hoping she could help him recover.

But it didn’t work. Gerard tortured her so badly that, by the time they found her, she was barely alive. Apparently, she made it but ended up being disabled. I didn’t bother digging for details. I just went on with my life.

Another year passed, and on my birthday, Glenn wanted to throw a big party, but I stopped him. I ended up baking a crooked little cake for myself. I fell in love with capturing life’s moments and posted random photos on Facebook.

One day, Gerard liked one of my posts. After that, the only news I heard about him was through the news. Stories about his ruthless ways of taking over his family’s company in just a year.

Or his string of girlfriends, all of them with faces tweaked by plastic surgery. Faces that all bore a resemblance to someone. One time, I was out at a restaurant for dinner and ran into him. He was sitting with some woman, all flirty and cozy.

The moment he spotted me, he shoved the flirtatious woman aside. He opened his mouth like he wanted to explain, but the words didn’t come out. He kept fiddling with his coat, clutching it, then letting go, over and over.

But by the time he regained his composure, I had already walked past him. After that, the gossip changed. They said he’d kicked all the women out of his life–even switched to having male assistants.

He got really into charity work and even adopted a daughter. He named her Yvaine. He spoiled her rotten, throwing money at her education and anything else she wanted.

People said she had to be his biological kid. Why else would he care so much? Years passed, and then word got out that Gerard was seriously ill. By then, his adopted daughter already had most of the family’s power in her hands.

When Gerard made his will public, he left half of his fortune to his daughter and donated the other half. On his last day alive, which happened to be his birthday, his daughter came to see me.

“Dad said he hopes you can spend his final birthday with him,” she said.

The girl was raised exceptionally well–she carried herself with confidence, showing no signs of insecurity. All these years, I’d made my peace with the past. But I still refused to see him.

I wanted that to be my final revenge. Not long after the girl left, Gerard passed away that very night. For the first time in forever, I had a dream. I saw him lying unconscious on a hospital bed, his hand pale and skinny and covered in needles.

It hung weakly over the edge of the bed. Doctors rushed in, covering him with a white sheet. Gerard was gone. I woke up early that morning. It was spring, and the sun was shining brighter than usual.

THE END