Chapter 17
On Saturday, Alexander showed up.
After seven months of back-and-forth in the divorce battle, it was finally over.
In the final agreement, he handed me most of the stocks and assets.
I accepted without hesitation.
As I left the courthouse, I noticed he was unsteady on his feet.
His lifeless eyes locked onto mine, filled with silent pain.
His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
I turned away, walking resolutely with my parents’ company.
I could feel his desperate gaze following me, but I didn’t look back.
That night, the news broke: Alexander had driven his car into the sea in a suicide attempt.
Three years later.
At my wedding.
There he was, sitting in a wheelchair, uninvited.
He looked thinner, gaunter, his face haggard.
The eyes that once bewitched people were now sunken and tired, so different from how I remembered them.
I heard that, on that night, he had really intended to die.
But he was saved.
His legs, however, were left crippled.
I also heard that his mental health wasn’t good.
He stepped down from the CEO position and disappeared from the public eye.
I learned a few more things later, but honestly, I don’t remember much.
Because by then, I had stopped caring.
At this wedding, the one I planned for myself, he stared at me, dazed, and slowly spoke.
“You look… so beautiful in your wedding dress.”
“What a pity… it’s not for me.”
A tear rolled down his cheek.
It slid down his grey, weary face.
I smiled faintly.
Unmoved. Silent.
Just then, I heard my name being called.
A handsome, elegant man walked over quickly, smiling as he invited me to set off fireworks with him.
He’s my husband.
The person I’ll spend the rest of my life with.
I placed my hand in his warm, strong palm.
We smiled at each other and walked away, hand in hand.
