Running Away from Marriage, Leaving Deception Behind

Hazel didn’t see the point in arguing with Scarlett. With a calm resolve, she deleted the message, blocked Scarlett’s number, and opened her chat with Ambrose.

Their last conversation was over a week old.

As she scrolled through the thread, a painful pattern emerged. Message after message filled the screen, and she sent each one. She had poured her heart into every word, sharing everything from her lofty dreams to the tiniest details of her meals.

Ambrose’s responses were scarce; his replies were a rarity. And when he did bother to respond, the topic was always the same: Scarlett.

Hazel suddenly lost the desire to text him back.

If her words were destined to drift into silence, why waste the effort?

She was tucking her phone back into her pocket when Ambrose’s name lit up the screen. He was calling.

“Where are you? Why aren’t you home? It’s late already. Why haven’t you come back yet?” His voice carried a mix of urgency and subtle reproach.

Tonight, he had turned down Scarlett’s invitation, a rare occurrence, and returned home early, intending to spend time with Hazel. But when he walked through the door, the one who always waited for him was nowhere to be found.

She hadn’t answered his calls or texts, and his worry had escalated to the point where he almost called the police.

Hazel glanced at the clock, feeling a knot tighten in her chest.

It was 8 PM.

Ambrose had always been one to stay out late, sometimes not returning until the early hours or, worse, disappearing for the night.

Every time, Hazel had waited in silence, leaving a light on for him.

And if he had been drinking, she would fight off sleep, rising to make him soup, hoping it would sober him up.

But what had Ambrose ever done for her?

Hazel couldn’t recall a single thing. Her patience thinned, and her tone became sharper.

“Can’t I have a life of my own?”

It was the first time she had ever dared to speak back to him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before his voice softened.

“Hazel, I’ve missed you these past few days.”

“Tomorrow’s our wedding day. I was just worried something might happen to you. Don’t be upset. Wait for me, alright? I’m coming to get you now.”

Within minutes, Ambrose pulled up in his car, unexpectedly holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

She didn’t take the flowers. Instead, she opened the passenger door, greeted by a faint yet unmistakable scent.

A wave of nausea hit her, and she quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe her hands, choosing to climb into the back seat instead.

Ambrose, absorbed in replying to his messages, remained unaware of her discomfort.

He spoke absently, “Why’d you go to the amusement park? Have you finished with all the wedding preparations?”

“Pretty much.”

Tomorrow, she would finally leave this place behind.

Ambrose chuckled, his tone light.

“I remember you’ve always wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. When I get a chance, I’ll take you and make sure you have a wonderful day. I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun today, but my mom wants to see you.”

“It’s fine. We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

Hazel had a lifetime of wishes, and there would always be time later to fulfill them.

After she left the country, she would tick off her list of wishes, one by one, none of them involving Ambrose.

Once Ambrose finished sending his messages, he started the car and casually played one of Scarlett’s favorite songs.

Hazel turned her gaze toward the streets, the city she had grown up in.

It was a beautiful place.

Neon lights flickered, blending seamlessly with the starlit sky in a dazzling dance of colors.

But the longer she stared, the more the wind stung her eyes, leaving them red and sore.

When they arrived at the old family house, the dining table was already piled with leftovers.

The housekeeper was clearing the dishes while the parents of both families chatted merrily.

Ambrose and Scarlett shared a laugh, their easy camaraderie filling the space.

In the midst of it all, Hazel felt like an outsider.

Her figure caught Ambrose’s eye for a fleeting moment. He saw the lonely silhouette, and his heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly, a forgotten promise resurfaced in Ambrose’s mind, one he had made years ago, vowing never to let this little girl feel sorrow again.