Then he took my hand.
“We can postpone the wedding. Your health comes first.”
I shook my head.
“I want to marry you, Daniel.”
“Of course. But you don’t need to go through with the ceremony while you’re dealing with this.”
I looked at him.
“I’ve spent years adjusting my life around my family’s mistakes. I don’t want them controlling this moment too.”
Daniel was quiet.
Then he nodded.
“Whatever you decide, I’m beside you.”
For the first time that day, I felt genuinely supported.
The following morning, Evan sent me a photograph.
He was smiling at a golf course.
The message underneath read:
Glad we worked things out like family.
I stared at it.
He seemed to believe the matter was over.
Perhaps he assumed I’d eventually forgive him, as I always had.
Maybe he thought Dad’s insistence on protecting him meant he wouldn’t face any consequences.
