HER ULTIMATE COMEBACK

The chapel was mildly but elegantly decorated.

Soft light spilled through the stained-glass windows, settling gently on ivory pews and the exquisite guests that were dressed in silk and formal wear.

Soft whispers, restrained laughter, anticipation, and visible admiration filled the air as people adjusted in their seats, the anticipation thick and palpable.

At the front of the chapel, before the altar, Emma Murphy, clad in a flowing white gown, held a white rose bouquet, her fingers trembling despite her efforts to remain composed.

Ethan Anderson stood opposite her, clad in a black tuxedo, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.

Emma drew in a slow breath, forcing the nervousness clinging to her lungs to settle.

She was finally marrying her childhood best friend, the man she had loved for years.

More than that, she was fulfilling her mother’s last wish: that Emma would one day walk down the aisle in a proper, formal wedding of her own and marry the man she loved.

“Emma Murphy,” the priest called gently, “do you take Ethan Anderson to be your husband, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

Emma lifted her gaze, meeting Ethan’s eyes. Her cheeks reddened as she controlled the surge of excitement that threatened to spill out.

“Yes,” her voice came in a whisper, but clear enough for everyone to hear. “I do.”

The priest turned toward Ethan, who wore a small, unreadable smile.

“And you, Ethan Anderson, do you take Emma to be your…”

While the priest continued giving out the vows, Ethan’s gaze shifted.

It moved past Emma.

His expression changed in an instant. Surprise flashing across his face, followed by something darker, sharper… then softening into a look that made Emma’s stomach twist.

Yet his eyes never returned to her.

“To love and to cherish, till death do you part?” the priest finished. But Ethan was still focused on that… thing.

One second passed.

Then another.

And another.

Tugging at his tuxedo in an attempt to bring him back, Emma whispered, "Ethan" But her effort was futile, as he didn't respond.

Her heart began to pound violently as the silence in the hall pressed against her ears, drowning out everything except the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Her grip tightened around the bouquet until her knuckles turned white.

Emma swallowed hard.

“What are you looking at?” she scolded in a whispered, but got no response still.

The hall grew restless, people began to whispering and adjust in their seats.

The priest shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, but Ethan still didn't move.

“Is he having an emotional breakdown?” Emma thought to herself, fighting the urge to glance behind her.

But the murmurs, the strange stares, the wild thought, and the throbbing in her heart made her do otherwise.

Slowly, Emma tilted her head toward the direction Ethan was staring at, and froze.

The bouquet slipped from her hands, petals scattering across the polished floor.

Beads of sweat formed on her brow the moment she saw the woman standing by the doorway.

“Lora…” Emma breathed, the name stuck in her throat.

Her chest tightened, her breaths shallow and uneven.

She naturally should have been happy seeing her stepsister after five-years, of unannounced disappearance, but with the timing and the occasion, Emma knew better.

"Why is she here?" Emma questioned, as she battled with the thoughts that were hovering over her head.

Lora’s face broke into a dazzling smile, as if she could sense Emma’s fear. Then she turned back, her gaze lingering on Ethan with seductive intent.

Tears blurred Emma’s vision as she watched the unmistakable connection between Ethan and Lora.

“Am I really cursed? Is it so hard to make one man love me as much as I do?” she questioned, allowing a sting of tears to freely drop from her eyes.

“Ethan,” Emma whispered, her voice chocked with tears, reaching for his hands she uttered “Please, let's go on with the wedding.”

Ethan gazed at Emma's trembling hands coming toward him, and gently pushed them away.

His eyes glimmered with conflicting emotions.

He was at a very difficult crossroads, and whatever decision he made now would determine how happy he would be in the future.

Marrying Emma had never been his plan; he had only agreed out of her relentless insistence, family pressure, and because the woman he truly loved had been missing for five years, with no trace of her whereabouts.

But now she was back, and a part of him stirred, thinking of other ways to repay Emma for all she had done other than being in a loveless marriage with her.

He drew in a slow, steady breath, letting his eyes sweep across the hall, the priest, and finally Emma.

“I’m sorry, I can’t marry you,” he said, his voice calm, controlled, and icy.

“I’ll make sure you’re compensated for everything.”

Without a backward glance, he turned and walked toward the woman he truly loves

“Eth….” Emma tried to speak, but before the words could even come out of her mouth, Ethan was gone.

Emma’s body shocked violently, her heart pounded so hard it threatened to burst her chest open, and her breath came in short bursts.

She had sacrificed everything for him. Her life, her dreams, her education, her heart, everything ever since his accident. "And he… he thinks money can pay now?" she stuttered inaudibly

The tears in her eyes flowed uncontrollably. Her knees became wobbly, and she fell to the ground.

The whispers in the hall soon erupted into loud mockery, fake pity, and some even outright laughter.

“Lora Murphy and Ethan Anderson are a better match,” one said.

“Did you see how dazzling Lora Murphy is? Emma can never come close,” one of the girls said, rolling her eyes.

“Good for her. She thinks she can throw herself at Ethan Anderson What a joke”

The words kept hitting her heart, breaking it into a million pieces. Emma’s vision blurred as seconds ticked by; the loud voices sounded more like whispers.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had desperately allowed herself to be stepped on by people who never loved her and never would.

“How stupid of me,” she chuckled bitterly, her eyelids fluttering.

The world fell into darkness as she muttered “Never again…”