My Groom Left Me at the Altar

My parents passed away when I was young, leaving me to be raised by my grandfather.

For years, he was my everything, but two years ago, the one who loved me most also left me forever, taken by illness.

I saw Rudy as my last family. Even though he abandoned me time and time again for Kelsey, I chose to stay by his side.

All because I craved the warmth of a home.

Rudy once promised me he’d give me the warmest, happiest home imaginable.

That promise still echoes in my mind, yet the man who made it seems to have forgotten, breaking it over and over again.

My phone buzzes.

Kelsey: Melissa, you lost.

Yes.

I lost—and I lost completely.

I let out a bitter laugh, and as I did, tears spilled down my cheeks, unstoppable.

I’ve held onto this relationship for seven years.

Perhaps it’s because I forgave him so many times that Rudy became fearless, convinced I would never leave no matter what he did.

But the pain of waiting has become unbearable.

I’m exhausted now—too tired to keep holding on.

Today was meant to be our last chance to make things right.

But Rudy, once again, chose not to cherish it.

Even the heavens seemed to share my sorrow. A gentle drizzle began to fall, its droplets mingling with the tears on my face. I could no longer tell which was which.

Lost in my thoughts, I faintly heard someone shout from behind, “Be careful!”

The next moment, the screech of brakes tore through the air.

Before I could react, pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground. The sharp agony quickly spread, and crimson blood seeped out beneath me, staining my white wedding dress in an instant.

“Baby!”

Later, I found myself lying pale and bloodied in the hospital’s emergency room. Pain radiated from my lower abdomen, and I could distinctly feel something being wrenched away from within me.

Desperate and terrified, I clutched my phone, calling Rudy repeatedly.

The first call—no answer.

The second call—still no answer.

...

Finally, on the seventh try, the call connected.

“Rudy!” I cried, my voice cracking with desperation.

But before I could say another word, his cold voice interrupted me. “I’m busy. If it’s not urgent, we’ll talk later.”

Hearing the indifference in his tone, panic surged through me. Before he could hang up, I rushed to say,

“Rudy, I was in a car accident. Please... can you come to the hospital now?”

At this moment, cold sweat drenched my forehead, and the pain was so overwhelming I could barely speak. If one listened closely, they would easily detect the tremor in my voice as I struggled to endure the excruciating agony.

But Rudy, on the other end of the line, noticed nothing. Instead, his voice carried irritation as he scolded me:

“Melissa, there’s a limit to jealousy. Faking a car accident just to get my attention? Is this your idea of fun?”

Then, the line went dead, replaced by the cold, repetitive tone of "beepbeep."

His words cut through me like a jagged blade, leaving wounds that bled deeper than the ones on my body.

At that moment, my heart froze completely.

Under the nurse’s sympathetic gaze, I picked up the pen with trembling hands and signed my name on the consent form for the operation.

Before the darkness consumed me, I whispered to the doctor, “Doctor, don’t save the child.”

…

When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by the blinding white of the hospital room.