Summer's End,I Won't Save You Twice

“I'll cover the medical bills, but from now on, you need to behave.”

That day, tears streaming down my face, I agreed to Derek's terms. I became his dirty little secret. His mistress.

Until today, when he and Agnes were getting married, and he specifically requested that I be a bridesmaid.

Eighteen-year-old Caroline Simmons had arrived here without warning.

The moment every last memory settled into place, the despair and agony seared so deep that my whole body shook without my permission.

Two years of obedience.

No wonder Derek had looked at me like that when I brought up the past.

When he saw me crouching on the floor, crying in silence, he softened just enough to lean down and blow gently on the red mark on my forehead.

His voice was tender. “Caroline, why can't you just be good? You always have to push me until I lose my temper.”

I said nothing.

He pried my fingers open one by one and pressed several sheets of paper into my palm.

“On the wedding day, you'll read what's written here. A public apology. You'll clear Agnes's name and admit that you were the other woman.”

“Don't worry. Once it's done, I'll reinstate the medical payments immediately.”

Tears soaked the pages. I finally broke, screaming at Derek until my voice cracked.

“Are you even human? Derek! When you were ten, you nearly got kidnapped! My mother took three stab wounds shielding you!”

“After that, you swore you'd treat her like your own mother!”

“How dare you use her as leverage against me now!”

My chest seized. I screamed until there was nothing left in me.

But the only answer I got was the sight of two figures walking away together, leaning into each other.

I stayed in the empty living room, listening to the sounds drifting down from upstairs. Intimate. Unmistakable.

It felt like an invisible fist had closed around my heart and was squeezing until I could barely breathe.

Before long, my phone erupted. When I picked up, it was the hospital.

“Ms. Simmons, your mother's condition has worsened. We need to switch treatment plans and start her on more advanced imported medications……”

I hung up and took a cab straight to the hospital, running the whole way in.

The second I saw my mother, the tears fell on their own.

Just this morning, I'd been so full of hope, daydreaming about my future.

Derek and I had grown up together, after all. Childhood sweethearts. A perfect match.

After my father passed, my mother had encouraged the relationship every chance she got, wanting me to have someone to rely on.

But now my mother lay in front of me, frail and pale, and everything had changed.

A suffocating wave of pain crashed over me. I stayed at the hospital through the night and into the next day.

On the morning of the wedding, Derek sent people to drag me out.

They held me down and forced me into a bridesmaid dress that didn't even fit.

The moment I arrived at the venue, countless cameras and flashbulbs swiveled toward me.

Someone shoved me forward. The oversized dress was ripped apart in an instant, and I stumbled out in front of everyone, half-exposed.

I clutched the fabric to my chest and stared at Agnes standing in the crowd, her face lit with a triumphant smile.

The next second, I grabbed a fistful of my skirt, snatched the champagne glass off a passing waiter's tray, and hurled it at her.

“Ah——”

A shriek cut through the room. Agnes teetered, about to hit the ground.

But Derek shoved me hard, and I crashed into the champagne tower instead.

Glass shattered everywhere, champagne pooling across the floor. Cuts opened up all over my body, large and small.

Blood soaked through the carpet and the hem of my dress in seconds.

In the instant I hit the ground, I saw the scar on Derek's wrist. Three inches long.

He'd gotten it when I was sixteen. A group of thugs had cornered me outside school for money, and Derek grabbed a bottle and fought them off. One of them slashed his wrist open.

His wrist had been drenched in blood, but he'd still used his other hand to cover my eyes, telling me not to look.

Through the pain, he'd held me steady and said：“Protecting you is instinct. Don't blame yourself.”