I Saw My Tragic Future Through A Random Wedding Forum Poll Chapter 09

I Saw My Tragic Future Through A Random Wedding Forum Poll Chapter 09

The day after Maribel was formally arrested, Bastian went to the Harrowmere Police Department.

He told the detectives everything he knew, gave a formal statement, and signed it when he was

done.

Then he sent the deed to the Glasswater condo to Cillian’s company with a note.

[The condo is hers. I contacted Dr. Ansel Reed at Harrowmere Orthopedic Institute. He’s one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country. He can schedule her surgery whenever she’s ready.

Cillian handed me the deed and the note.

I glanced at them, set them on the table, and didn’t open either one.

My rehab center was in South Harrowmere.

Every afternoon from two to four, I worked between the parallel bars, forcing myself forward one

step at a time.

There was surgical hardware in my right leg, and every step felt like a hammer striking bone.

My physical therapist said I was recovering faster than expected, but whether I’d ever dance again.

was still uncertain.

That afternoon, I had just pulled myself upright against the bars when someone appeared in the

doorway.

Bastian.

He had lost a lot of weight. Dark stubble covered his jaw, and his eyes looked hollow.

“Carys.”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t sit down either.

I simply held the bar and looked at him.

He walked into the room and stopped in front of me.

For a moment, he just stood there with his head lowered.

“The wedding was my fault. The courthouse marriage was my fault. The condo was my fault.”

He straightened, his eyes red.

“When you were in the hospital, I said it didn’t matter if you could never dance again because I could take care of you for the rest of your life.”

His voice shook.

“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever said.”

“I acted like losing your dream was no big deal as long as I could pay the bills. What the hell was wrong with me?”

He swallowed.

“I’ve already contacted the surgeon. I’ll pay for everything. If you want treatment somewhere else,

anywhere in the country, I’ll go with you.”

He stepped closer.

“Carys, give me one more chance.”

“This time, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

The rehab room was silent except for the low hum of the air-conditioning.

I looked at him.

I had known that face for five years.

Once, I had thought it was the most beautiful face in the world.

Now it belonged to a stranger.

“You thought loving me meant you could decide what losses I should be able to live with.”

His face went pale.

I looked down at my injured leg.

“But I lost a child I never even knew I had.”

“Neither of us even knew about the baby until it was gone. We never got the chance to know it, or

even give it a name.”

“My stage is gone too. I started ballet when I was six. You have no idea how much pain I’ve pushed through or how much blood I’ve shed for it.”

Then I looked straight at him.

“And my trust.”

“You broke it apart and handed it to other people piece by piece without even telling me.’

I paused.

“My baby. My stage. My trust.”

“What are you going to give me that could possibly make up for those?”

Bastian stood there, his lips parting several times.

Nothing came out.

Because he already knew the answer.

Nothing could.

I released the bar and slowly turned away.

Every step hurt, but I didn’t hold on to anything.

The rehab-room door was open.

Cillian was leaning against the wall outside with his hands in his pockets.

He didn’t come in.

He didn’t hurry me, question me, or make the choice for me.

He simply waited.

I reached him and stopped.

“Let’s go home.”

He nodded, then bent down and straightened my slippers.

“Take it slow. Don’t push yourself.”

I started walking again.

Cillian stayed beside me without touching me, one hand hovering nearby in case I lost my balance.

Behind us came a faint, broken breath.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t attend the sentencing.

Cillian brought me the results afterward.

Maribel was convicted of murder and aggravated assault and sentenced to life in prison.

Darcy was convicted of aggravated assault and hit-and-run and sentenced to seven years.

My parents were convicted of obstruction and evidence tampering.

Three years each.

During the investigation, Bastian’s business partners pulled their investments, and most of his

clients walked away. His reputation collapsed along with the company.

He lost his marriage. His career. His reputation.

And he lost me for good.

I finished reading the sentencing documents, closed the file, and set it on the corner of the table.

I didn’t feel satisfied.

I didn’t feel vindicated.

I was just tired.

And finally, I didn’t have to look back anymore.