He jogged toward me, panting slightly, with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Yvonne. Something urgent came up at work today. I hope I’m not too late.”
I scoffed silently.
The last time we were supposed to register our marriage, he told me that something had come up at work, so he didn’t turn up.
The time before that? He was also late because of work.
The past was in the past, but he was now using the same excuse again.
I didn’t even bother calling him out. Shaking my head, I answered, “You’re too late. The staff just left.”
Nathan looked indignant at that. He glanced at his watch before accusing righteously, “Damn, these people really clock out on the dot every day, don’t they? Can’t they wait just a few minutes?”
He stepped forward and grabbed my hand, placing it on his heaving chest. “There was traffic congestion earlier. Feel this—I ran all the way here. I’m exhausted.”
I stared at him blankly, doing my best to hold back my tears.
No one was that stupid.
I could easily tell if he really ran all the way here.
Biting my lip, I questioned him for the first time ever. “If you really ran all that distance, why aren’t you sweating at all?”
His forehead was completely dry, with no hint of sweat at all.
Nathan’s expression changed abruptly. He frowned, his gaze filling with anger, and asked loudly, “What do you mean by that? Are you saying that I’m lying to you? That I don’t want to marry you?
“I ran so hard to get here, yet you don’t believe me. I can’t believe you’re such a heartless woman, Yvonne!”
It was impressive how easily he turned the tables on me.
Unfortunately for him, his hysterical outburst made him look guiltier.
I rubbed my temples, suddenly losing the urge to argue with him. “You know better than anyone else whether that’s true or not, Nathan.”
With that, I turned to leave.
His cold voice sounded from behind me. “Fine, then. I know that well. Don’t ever look for me again. Stop pestering me and begging me to marry you!”
This time, I did not turn back, but I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
I had barely taken a few steps when a text popped up on my phone. “Yvonne, you didn’t manage to get married again, did you? What a pity. It’s okay, though. You can beg Nathan to marry you again later. The eighth time is the charm, right?”
