Three days before our wedding, my fiancée sold the house we had been preparing for three years.
Because of that, her circle of girlfriends went into an uproar.
“You’ve lost your mind, haven’t you? Just because Daniel wanted that new Ferrari, you sold the house? Does Nathan even know? Where are you two going to live after the wedding then?”
“Exactly! That place was all Nathan’s work inside and out. He poured his heart into it!”
Yet, Cassandra Grant simply downed a drink, her face calm and careless. “He loves me that much. Remember, he nearly lost half his life once when he stepped in front of a knife for me. You think he cares about one house?”
Smirking, she even added, “Besides, isn’t he always saying, ‘Wherever you are is home’? Well, this is the perfect time to see if he really means it.”
Little did they know, I was standing right outside the private room, holding a thermos of soup I had made for her. Without a word, I turned and walked away.
On the wedding morning, her calls came like a curse that wouldn’t stop ringing.
“Nathan! Where the hell are you? My whole family is waiting for you!” she berated as soon as I picked up her call.
But I only stared out the window at the familiar streets passing by and answered, “I already signed the papers. I’m home now.”
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