Marry Me in Three Days, Or Never

Joseph's POV

When my family heard me say I would be getting married in three days, the whole hospital room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

With eyes welling with tears, my dad choked out a shaky "Good" over and over.

That night, after I drove my mom home, she called me into the study for a private talk.

"Joseph, there's something I've been holding back for a long time, but I really need to tell you."

She hesitated, looking at me with heartache in her eyes.

"On your birthday last month, Whitney came by to drop off a gift, but she didn't even stay five minutes before claiming she was too busy and had to leave."

Mom's expression hardened, and she continued, "But half an hour later, a friend of mine spotted her at a private bar in Southvale. She was lounging in a corner booth, having drinks with a man who looked exactly like her secretary, Kaiden…"

She slid a photo across the table to me.

In the photo, Kaiden Xavier was dressed in a trendy, high-end suit. He looked completely at ease, smiling as he said something to my supposed fiancee, Whitney Pearson.

Whitney sat right beside him, head bowed, listening intently. The admiration and dependence in her eyes practically spilled out of the frame.

Even without any physical intimacy, they looked bound together by some invisible thread, utterly absorbed in each other and oblivious to the rest of the room.

At the sight of this side of Whitney, my mind went blank for a moment.

There was a time when she looked at me with that same intensity and ardor, her every emotion tied to my joys and sorrows.

She was nothing like the woman she had become—the one who, before my tears had even dried, would coldly demand that I be sensible and look at the big picture instead of burdening her with my problems.

"Joseph, you've been with Whitney Pearson for so many years and proposed more times than I can count. If she truly wanted to marry you, she'd have said yes long ago."

Mom hesitated before continuing, "I'm just worried that forcing her hand the way we did today will only cause problems later. Maybe it'd be better to—"

Before she could finish, I cut her off, my voice flat. "Mom, yes, I'm getting married. But who said I'm marrying Whitney?"

…

By the time I got back from my parents' place, it was well into the night.

When I pushed open the door, I was surprised to find Whitney still awake. Dressed in her loungewear, she sat on the couch, monitoring the US stock market.

When she saw me walk in, she closed her laptop, took off her glasses, and gave me a questioning look.

"What kept you out so late tonight?"

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I wanted to retort that she had spent far more late nights out than I ever had, but the words died in my throat. It all felt pointless now. Instead, I brushed it off with a casual answer.

"It's nothing. I just stayed a bit longer to talk with Mom."

Whitney nodded. She picked up a brilliantly gleaming watch from the jewelry box on the table, stood up, and walked over to me.

"Joseph, thanks for taking the pressure off me with all this marriage talk."