Chapter 3 Word for word

Jack Pov

"It was supposed to be a joyous day, filled with laughter and happiness as I prepared to marry the woman I thought I loved. But my heart was heavy with doubt and uncertainty. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was making a huge mistake.

The truth was, I had proposed to the wrong person. Her secrets still lingered in my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder what I should do. I had asked her to be my partner in a moment of weakness, and now I was paying the price.

As I stood in front of the mirror, getting ready for the big day, my phone rang. I hesitated for a moment before answering. 'Hello?' I said, trying to sound calm.

'Hi Jack, I've been trying to reach you. I heard you're getting married,' a familiar voice said. 'This isn't what we agreed on, Jack.'

My heart skipped a beat as I realized who was on the other end of the line. 'How did you know?' I asked, but she had already hung up.

I tried calling her back, but her number was unreachable. I was trapped. Just then, I heard footsteps approaching. It was my mom. 'Son, what's wrong? You should be dressed by now. They're waiting for us at the court,' she said, her voice firm but worried.

I knew I couldn't tell her the truth. 'I have a headache, Mom,' I lied.

But my mom was insistent. 'You need to get up and get dressed. Your father will be furious if you're late.'

I knew I couldn't argue with my dad. He was a strict man, and I feared him. I slowly got up and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. But just as I was about to step in, my leg gave way, and I fell to the ground, fainting."

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in a hospital room, my parents by my side. My mother's face was etched with worry. "Son, I almost lost you today," she said, her voice trembling. "But your father arrived just in time."

My father's phone rang, breaking the tense moment. "Ah, it's Mr. Bartholomew," he said, stepping away to take the call. Thirty minutes passed before he returned, his expression unreadable.

Just then, Benedict and her parents entered the room, carrying a wedding register. "I think we should proceed with the ceremony here," my father suggested. Benedict's father nodded in agreement. "Will Jack be comfortable with that?" he asked.

I tried to speak up, "Dad, can we postpone the wedding?" But my father's anger was swift. "Son, who are you to question my authority?"

As they prepared to join us in marriage, my phone rang again. My mother, who was holding it, tried to silence it, but the caller persisted. Reluctantly, she handed it to me. "Hello?" I answered.

The voice on the other end dropped a bombshell. "I know you're engaged now, but I'm carrying your baby. There's another marriage waiting for you in London."

My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and my mind reeled. "Doctor! Doctor!" I cried out, feeling my world spinning out of control.

As I lay in the hospital bed, my mind began to wander back to the memories I had tried to suppress. Rose, my former fiancée, flashed into my mind like a ray of sunshine. We had been inseparable since secondary school, sharing every secret, laughter, and tear together. I had always envisioned spending the rest of my life with her, building a future filled with love, joy, and adventure.

I remembered the day I professed my love to Rose like it was yesterday. We were sitting on a bench overlooking the university lake, watching the sunset paint the sky with hues of orange and pink. I had taken her hand, my heart racing with excitement and nervousness.

"Rose, from the moment I met you, I knew you were special," I said, my voice trembling with emotion. "I love you, Rose. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

But her response was not what I had expected. She looked at me with a mixture of sadness and frustration, her eyes welling up with tears.

"No, you didn't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Those three words pierced my heart like a dagger. I felt like I had been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. I couldn't understand why she would say that. Hadn't we shared countless moments of laughter, adventure, and romance?

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You don't love me, Jack," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You love the idea of loving me. You love the comfort and security of being with me. But you don't truly know me, and you don't truly love me."

Her words cut deep, and I felt my world crumbling around me. I realized that I had been living in a bubble, blinded by my own emotions and desires. I didn't know what to say or do, so I just sat there, frozen in shock and heartache.

That was the moment when everything started to fall apart. I began to question my own feelings and motivations, and eventually, I found myself entangled in a complicated web of relationships, leading to the chaotic situation I now found myself in.