After He Fled the Wedding Ninth Time, I Left

I stood at the end of the red carpet, holding a bouquet of roses so vibrant they seemed to drip with color, yet my fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Today was my ninth wedding with Sebastian Fiennes. The previous eight had all been disrupted, without exception, by Genevieve Knight, his friend who grew up with him and now clung to him like a shadow. This time, the ceremony had reached its most solemn moment. The priest held the microphone, his voice carrying through the banquet hall. "Mr. Sebastian Fiennes, do you take Ms. Aurora Sterling to be your wife, to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, till death do you part?" I lifted my head and stared up at the man I had loved for ten long years. Inside my heart, I prayed desperately, over and over. This time, please do not leave again. Sebastian's lips parted slightly. He was about to speak the words I had waited for so many times. The next second, his phone rang sharply, vibrating wildly in his pocket. It was the custom ringtone he had set exclusively for Genevieve, so distinctive that just hearing it made my heart seize with dread. Sebastian's expression shifted. Almost reflexively, he pulled out his phone and answered the call right in front of all the guests. From the other end came Genevieve's delicate, frightened sobs, calculated in their fragility. "Sebastian, I am so scared. I came to Yorkdale for a competition and got separated from my assistant. I am lost again, and I cannot find the exit. It is so dark here, and there are drunk men everywhere. The way they are looking at me is terrifying. Sebastian, please, come get me quickly. I am really, really scared." Sebastian's face darkened instantly. The tenderness and solemnity he had shown moments ago vanished, replaced by nothing but panic and urgency. "Genevieve, do not panic. Stay where you are. I am coming right away." With those words, he turned and glanced at me, a flicker of apology on his face. "The wedding is on hold. Genevieve is in danger. I have to go." Under the stunned gaze of the priest and the rising murmurs of the guests, Sebastian strode away. He left me, his would-be bride, and every friend and relative who had gathered for us. The priest's microphone remained suspended in midair, his voice caught in his throat, leaving only an awkward silence. The bride, publicly deserted by the groom, yet again. Once again, I had become the day's biggest spectacle. The whispers of ridicule stabbed like needles, piercing my ears one after another. "What happened? Why did the groom leave?" "How many times is this now? This whole thing is turning into a farce. What a waste of an afternoon." "I always said Sebastian would never marry her. She just keeps throwing herself at him anyway." "Today she has truly hit rock bottom." "Pathetic, really. Throwing herself at him like this, and he cannot even be bothered to finish the ceremony." No, it was not like that. Watching his back as he walked away, my mind went blank. There was only raw, blind panic. I could not face a ninth failure. I could not let these ten years slip away again. Gathering the heavy hem of my dress, I stumbled after him. "Sebastian, please. Today is our wedding." I reached out and gripped his arm with desperate strength. He finally stopped, turned around, and fixed me with a hard, cold stare. "Aurora, have you not embarrassed yourself enough already? At a time like this, you are still making a scene over jealousy?" With that, he shook me off without hesitation and climbed into his car. Already unsteady in my heels, the force sent me reeling backward. Wind roared in my ears. The deafening blast of a truck horn cut through everything. Pain seared through my body all at once. The sound of bones breaking was horrifyingly clear. Agony radiated from every limb straight to my heart, so intense that I nearly blacked out on the spot. I lay in a pool of blood, my vision swimming, the world reduced to a haze of noise. I knew that if I closed my eyes right then, I might never open them again. I did not want to die. I still had Grandma. I still had not gotten an answer. With trembling hands, I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. The screen was smeared with blood as I struggled to unlock it and dial the number I knew by heart. Again and again, no one answered. Every time, it was the cold, robotic voice of the automated message. Just as I was about to let go of all hope, the call finally connected. Choking on what little breath I had left, I sobbed into the phone. "Sebastian, I have been in an accident. It hurts so much. Please come back. Please, come save me." But what answered me was not concern. It was Sebastian's sharp, cutting voice. "Aurora, are you ever going to stop?" His tone was ice through the receiver. "It was just a wedding. I already told you I would make it up to you later. Do you have to be this desperate?" He continued, "Genevieve is still out there in danger. She cannot find her way alone. If something happens to her, are you going to take responsibility? Just leave me alone already." I opened my mouth to tell him I was not lying, that I was truly dying, but the line went dead before I could speak. Tears blurred my vision. The ache in my chest cut deeper than every wound combined. So this was my ninth wedding. I never heard him say the words. All that came for me was a crash he had set in motion. Then everything went black. When I came to, I was lying in a hospital room reeking of disinfectant. Doctors and nurses surrounded my bed. Their eyes held pity, sympathy, and something heavy they could not quite voice. "Ms. Sterling, you are awake," the attending physician said softly, his tone painfully careful. "There is something we need to tell you." I tried to move my right leg on instinct. A vast, hollow numbness met me instead, and my whole body went rigid. "You arrived too late after the accident, and we were unable to reach your family. The critical window for treatment was lost. To save your life, we had no choice but to amputate your right leg." Amputate? I shook violently, completely beyond my control. I yanked the blanket aside. The empty pant leg burned itself into my vision, searing and undeniable. My leg was gone.