Running Away from Marriage, Leaving Deception Behind

Every word felt like a dagger, cutting deep and leaving scars that would never fully fade.

For a moment, Hazel thought she had misheard, her mind struggling to grasp the weight of what Ambrose had just said.

How could such cruel, venomous words come from his mouth? The man she had loved for so long.

She lifted her gaze, only to find Ambrose standing there, his body shielding Scarlett.

That familiar protective stance was too much to bear. It mirrored the past, when Scarlett's mother, Althea, had risen to the role of mistress, pushing Gianna, Hazel's mother aside and subjecting Hazel to endless cruelty. Zaccheus, Hazel's father had turned a blind eye.

And each time, it was Ambrose, who lived next door, who rushed in to defend her.

He had always been the one to stand up for her, to demand justice, to pull her into his arms and offer comfort when the world seemed too harsh.

When Hazel doubted her worth, Ambrose would always be there, declaring, "Hazel, you're the best person in the world. If they don’t want you, I do! No matter what happens, I’ll always stand by your side and protect you."

But years had passed, and those youthful promises had crumbled into nothing more than hollow echoes.

Now, Ambrose’s desire to protect was no longer aimed at Hazel but at Scarlett, the one who had caused her so much pain.

Hazel tried with all her strength to hold herself together, but tears spilled over, unstoppable.

Her heart was a raw, aching wound, and no words came to her to defend herself.

Seeing her like this, Ambrose's expression faltered, his guilt evident as his eyes avoided hers, instead landing on her bleeding feet.

"You're hurt?"

After all these years, Ambrose still couldn’t quite harden his heart against her.

He sighed softly, his words weighed down by regret. "Forget it. Let’s just say tonight was all nonsense... from being drunk. From now on—"

“There won’t be a ‘from now on,’” Hazel interrupted her voice barely a whisper.

"What?"

Ambrose sensed something had shifted within her, something he hadn’t expected.

But with everything that had unfolded that night, Ambrose’s mind was consumed by thoughts of Scarlett, leaving him with no energy left to focus on Hazel.

Just as he was about to speak, Scarlett’s voice, shaking with sobs, pierced through the air.

"Sister, do you really hate me that much? Forcing me to go abroad wasn’t enough; you want to drive me to my death, too? Fine, I’ll die, so I don’t burden Brother Ambrose anymore!"

Her words hit like a thunderclap, and before Hazel could respond, Scarlett ran toward the road.

It was late, empty streets, no cars in sight, but the panic surged within Ambrose, and he threw aside all hesitation. He rushed after Scarlett, his only thought to reach her.

In his frenzy, he collided with Hazel, sending her crashing to the ground. The sharp gravel scraped against her bleeding skin, the sting of it almost too much to bear.

The blows to her body, the weight of everything, drained her completely. She couldn’t even summon the strength to cry.

Ten years of love, gone, wasted. It had always been one-sided. A childhood sweetheart could never compete with an unexpected love.

She couldn’t compete with the woman Ambrose had held in his heart all along.

After what felt like an eternity, Hazel struggled to her feet, dragging her injured leg as she limped back to her room.

Once inside, she tended to her bloodied feet, then, with one final glance, she threw away the carefully selected wedding decorations she had once hoped would mark the start of forever.

Her gaze fell on the wedding countdown hanging in the living room, and for a brief moment, she hesitated.

Then, with a resigned sigh, she ripped off the word “wedding” and, in her heart, silently replaced it with a countdown to her departure.

There was so much to pack. The hours blurred together as she worked through the night, only falling into a restless sleep at four in the morning.

Barely three hours later, the shrill ring of her phone pulled her from her dreams.

“Hazel, are you awake? I ordered your favorite soup. I won’t be back today. Let’s push the wedding photoshoot to another day. There’s an emergency at the company, and I really can’t leave.”

Hazel rubbed her aching temples, her voice hoarse as she replied, “Alright.”

Her quick agreement and perhaps the sadness she couldn’t hide seemed to make Ambrose uneasy. His tone softened as though he was uncertain of the distance growing between them.