My Stolen Wedding

The next day, I slept until I woke up naturally. The moment I turned on my phone, I saw more than a dozen missed calls from her. That was rare.

Before I could finish feeling surprised, she called again.

"Lucas, where the hell did you go? My dad had an accident in his pants! And my mom… how many days has it been since you last bathed her?"

Her voice was sharp and shrill. "You promised me you’d take good care of them. That’s why I handed them over to you! Is this how you take care of people?

"Being useless is one thing. I didn’t expect you to have zero sense of responsibility too! You’ve really disappointed me!"

Listening to her, I found it almost funny. If I truly had no sense of responsibility, would I have taken care of her parents, Robert and Margaret Moonstone, for three years?

Her father was paralyzed while her mother had Alzheimer’s. Anyone could imagine how difficult that was. They despised me, looked down on me for living off their daughter, and constantly pressured me to divorce her.

When I refused, they did everything they could to torment me. Soiling themselves three times a day was basic routine.

I was miserable, yet because I loved her, I endured it all in silence.

Only after I brought up divorce did I finally find some relief.

I replied casually, "Why don’t you hire a caregiver, ex-wife?"

She exploded instantly, "What do you mean by that? You’re saying you won’t care anymore?"

I spoke calmly, "They’re your parents, not mine. You’re the one who should be taking care of them. If you don’t want to do it yourself, then consider spending money and hiring someone. Why are you yelling at me?"

Her parents were notoriously difficult, even among professional caregivers. Finding someone reliable on short notice would not be easy.

She seemed to realize that, too, because her tone softened. "You’ve been the one taking care of them all these years. You know their situation best. We’re family. There’s no need to draw such clear lines."

I laughed. "Don’t drag me into this. You and Aaron are their real family now. If you can’t handle it, let him take care of them."

A shrill scream came from the other end. "His hands are meant for playing the piano! How could he do such crude work! Lucas, what kind of intentions do you have?"

So what? I was just supposed to endure all of this?

It turned out love and the absence of it were painfully obvious. Then what exactly did my seven years amount to? I only felt tired, so tired I did not even want to breathe.

"Pick a time. Let’s finalize the divorce. If you keep messing around, don’t blame me for not holding back."

She froze for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You think you can threaten me? Lucas, you really overestimate yourself. Final warning. Keep this up, and I’ll make sure you leave with nothing."

How did I never notice before that she could not understand human language?

I was exhausted. "Fine. You pick the time. I’ll be there."

The sound of glass shattering came through the phone. She had lost her temper.

She gritted her teeth. "Great. Let's meet in an hour. Whoever doesn’t show is a loser."

She had always been all talk and no action. This time was no different.

I waited outside the courthouse for two full hours. She never showed.

I called her. No one answered. I pinched the bridge of my nose, a suffocating pressure building in my chest.

Was this really necessary? We were already getting divorced. Did she still need to toy with me like this?

At the peak of my irritation, she came running toward me in a fluffy dress and thin stilettos. Her smile was sweet as she threw herself into my arms.

"Honey! I’m so happy! We can finally get our marriage certificate!"

I frowned and looked past her, straight at her assistant, Emily Parker. "What’s going on?"

Emily covered her face, her expression pale. "Sir… she was just in a car accident. She has amnesia."