The Game of Marriage, The Entanglement of Love

An overwhelming sense of helplessness and defeat swallowed me whole.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Tears poured from my eyes and as I looked at the pile of ash on the ground, I felt my shattered heart burn away with it.

I should have known the moment he proposed the secret marriage three years ago.

My sister and I were nothing more than pawns, used to placate his family.

The only person who ever mattered to them was Tere.

But I realized it far too late.

Clifford, with disgust etched on his face, gently wiped his hand with a tissue.

Then, he went over to comfort Tere.

She sobbed pitifully for a while before Adrian finally loosened his grip on my neck.

But it wasn’t out of compassion—he was too busy handing Tere tissues.

I watched as the two Cain Family men surrounded her, their faces filled with concern and affection.

Gradually, Tere's sobbing quieted in response to their soothing voices.

In that moment, I felt utterly foolish for the past three years, pitiful even.

I lifted my foot, walking toward my sister who was slumped on the ground, my only thought being to take her away from this place.

But Tere still wouldn’t let us go.

Even though she was the one who had clearly won, as soon as I helped my sister to her feet, she walked up to us, holding a thermos container, looking aggrieved.

"Wanda, I’m sorry... I really am. I didn’t expect things to turn out this way. I know you hate me, but this is just a small gesture for Uncle. I hope you’ll accept it on his behalf..."

Slowly, I lowered my head, staring at the very person responsible for my father's death, the one who wouldn’t let him rest in peace.

In that instant, my emotions spiraled out of control.

I snatched the thermos from her hands and smashed it against her head.

The next second, thick soup spilled down her head, matting her hair into clumps. The scent of meat mixed with her shampoo, making me nauseous.

With bloodshot eyes, I roared, "Get out! Stop pretending to be kind in front of me!"

Clifford kept his gaze locked on me, a clear warning in his eyes.

At the same moment I struck, he rushed in front of me.

His leather shoe slammed into my stomach with a vicious kick.

Then he hurried to pull Tere into his arms, using his expensive shirt to wipe the soup from her head.

I crashed into the wall, my lower back hitting hard and I slid helplessly to the ground.

By the time most of the mess was wiped away, Tere's face was already soaked with tears.

Clifford tore off his soiled shirt and tossed it aside.

He stepped toward me, bending down to grip my face, squeezing so hard it felt like he was about to shatter my jawbone.

Just as he raised his hand, about to strike me, Tere spoke up through her sobs:

"Cliff, please don't be angry. This is all my fault. I saw that Uncle's plane ticket was fake and thought he’d arrive late. If I had known this would happen, I would’ve prepared the soup earlier. It's my fault for ruining your wedding. It’s normal for Wanda to be upset..."

Adrian hurriedly handed her more tissues, even thoughtfully grabbing a towel to dry her hair.

Hearing this, rage flooded my veins, my eyes bloodshot, temples throbbing.

My dad had never even flown on a plane in his entire life!

To save money for me and my sister, he had canceled his plane ticket and switched to a train.

Yet in her mouth, it became some scheming lie.

"Shut up! You have no right to talk about my dad!"

The words had barely left my mouth when Clifford slapped me across the face.

Blood seeped from my lip, a metallic taste rising in my throat.

He roared, "The one who should shut up is you! Say one more word and I'll rip your mouth apart!"

"This fake wedding was all arranged by Tere for you! What right do you have to shout at her?"

"What do you think you are? If your dad knew you used his illness over and over as an excuse to demand marriage, wouldn’t he have died from anger right on the spot?"