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Chapter 3

Auteur: Claremont Quinn
Beatrice's POV

Lucas sat across from me with his arm around Selene in the conference room. His expression was cold and grim as he stared at me silently.

I sat down, opened the proposal, and walked through it page by page, from the lighting to the agenda to the music to the decorations.

When I reached the table arrangements, I pointed at the design rendering and explained, "For the centerpiece, I chose gardenias with eucalyptus leaves to create a clean and refreshing look."

The moment my words fell, Lucas' fingers twitched. I pretended not to notice and lowered my gaze, continuing my presentation.

Gardenias were Lucas' favorite flower. In my previous life, a massive bouquet of gardenias sat at the center of every table at our wedding.

"I want gardenias at every major milestone of my life," he'd told me. So I'd instinctively included them in my proposal.

Selene suddenly slammed her fist against the table. "Gardenias? Who uses such a cheap and unsophisticated flower? Do you have any taste at all?"

Pointing at me, she shrieked, "Or are you doing this on purpose, so Lucas and I don't get our dream wedding?"

Swallowing the metallic tang of blood rising in my throat, I tried to explain, "Of course not, Ms. Cross!"

However, she didn't give me a chance to explain myself. She grabbed the thick proposal document from the table and hurled it at me. The hard cover struck my temple. Everything went dark, and my body tumbled backward.

Right before I lost consciousness, I noticed the cold, indifferent expression on Lucas's face crack.

…

When I came to, the first thing that came into view was a stark white ceiling and the familiar smell of disinfectant. I peeled my eyes open and found Lucas looming over me.

The moment he realized I was awake, his furious voice boomed. "Beatrice, you're still as despicable as ever. Are you trying to stage an accident and extort me right before my wedding? You disgust me!"

Without saying a word, I forced myself up, catching a faint hint of his crisp, woody cologne. Thank goodness. It wasn't the stench that clung to him in my previous life—a stale mix of sweat and harsh hospital disinfectant.

I closed my eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Mr. Wright, considering your fiancée injured me, rather than insulting me, you'd better figure out how much compensation you're going to give me."

Lucas slammed the door shut as he stormed out. Three minutes later, 15 grand had been deposited into my account.

…

It started to rain when I was on my way home. I lived in a partitioned room of an old apartment building in the old district.

The lights in the hallway had been out for ages. I felt my way up the stairs, running my hand along the wall. Then, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

After taking a short breather, I walked over to my bed and lifted the wooden frame. Underneath it sat an old-fashioned, rusted safe. It took me three attempts with the combination to finally get it unlocked.

There was nothing but a debit card inside. It was the ten grand Lucas had given me as our wedding gift.

Seven years had passed since. In all these seven years, it never even crossed my mind to spend his money.

When I first moved into a rental and couldn't afford the security deposit, I didn't touch it. When the insurance reimbursement for my targeted medication after chemotherapy fell short, I still didn't touch it.

There was even a time when I had to call an ambulance in the middle of the night, and I was 800 dollars short on the deposit. I stood outside the emergency room for 40 minutes, yet I still refused to touch his money.

I was terrified that if I died unexpectedly one day, I wouldn't have been able to replace the funds.

Clutching the debit card, I turned it over and over again to look at it. Fortunately, I would be able to return it to him soon.

Just then, my phone rang. The caller ID read Lucas. So, I answered it.

"Come to my bachelor party tonight."

I went rigid for a moment. "There's no reason for me to go, is there?"

"You're responsible for overseeing the entire wedding plan!" he snapped. "The party is part of the plan too. If you don't show up, you won't get a single cent of the final payment!"

I chuckled dryly. "Fine."

After hanging up, I collapsed onto the bed, drained of all strength. That was when I noticed the water stain on the ceiling.

It had appeared last month. Now, it had expanded into a huge, dark blotch, resembling a gray flower.

I wasn't sure if there would be real flowers at my grave. Oh well, it didn't matter.

…

The party was held at an exclusive private club. When I walked in, the lighting was so dim that I could barely see where I was going.

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  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 10

    Third-Person POVThree days later, Lucas went to the partitioned room Beatrice had rented. The lights in the hallway were still out. He made his way up the stairs in the dark and pushed open the door. The room was so tiny that it was hard to even turn around inside. There was a single bed, a desk, a chair, and several cardboard boxes stacked in the corner. He crouched down beside the bed. The bed frame was heavy, and his hand trembled slightly as he lifted it. Underneath sat an old-fashioned safe, rusted and with most of its slate-blue paint peeled away, exposing the dark red rust beneath. He crouched down and stared at it for a few seconds before reaching out to turn the combination dial. 1425. With a soft click, the lock sprang open. There was only a debit card inside the safe. Lucas took it out and turned it over, recognizing it as the one he had given Beatrice seven years ago. He peered deeper inside and saw a folded sheet of paper pressed against the bottom of the safe,

  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 9

    Beatrice's POVWhen the wig was fitted onto my head, I looked at myself in the mirror, lost in thought for a second. The woman in the mirror wore a white gown with exquisite makeup and gentle features; she looked just like an ordinary bride."You look beautiful," the makeup artist said softly. I smiled, my lips trembling slightly. The wedding was held on a field of grass by the sea. Lucas had rented out the whole area, setting up two rows of white chairs with a petal-strewn path down the middle. At the end of the aisle stood an arch draped in white tulle and gardenias. When the ocean breeze blew through, the fabric fluttered, and the petals drifted in the air like a gentle snowfall. It was an intimate gathering of only a few dozen guests. The moment they saw me, the bride, sitting in a wheelchair, everyone fell silent. No one said a word or whispered among themselves. Everyone watched quietly as I—in a white gown—was slowly pushed down the petal-strewn aisle by a nurse. I

  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 8

    Beatrice's POVThe ceremony had taken place by the ocean, in a venue Lucas had chosen. I had once told him that I wanted to see the ocean. But in my previous life, I had never managed to leave the hospital until the day I died. My last glimpse of the sea had been on the television screen in my hospital room. It was a documentary about the Melvaris, where the water was so blue it looked unreal. This time, he was determined to bring the ocean to me.…My condition continued to worsen. On the 28th day, I coughed up so much blood that it stained half my pillow crimson. Lucas scooped me into his arms and rushed me into the emergency room. After a grueling hour, the doctors managed to drag me back from death's door. …Seven days before the wedding, I could no longer sit up on my own. Every day, I could only lean against the bed, and after taking a single bite of food, I needed to catch my breath for three minutes. However, I was still revising my wedding plan—lighting angles, tab

  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 7

    Beatrice's POVAfter reading the contents, his expression changed in an instant. He snatched the iPad right out of my hands. "Why are you still working on this?"I blinked up at him. "Ms. Beaumont hasn't settled the final payment yet." "Beatrice!" Lucas' voice rose. "Don't work on this anymore.""I gave her my word." "In that case, I'll tell her the wedding's canceled."I froze for a moment. "What did you just say?""I said the wedding's canceled," he repeated. "I'm not going to marry her."The room fell dead silent. My eyes misted over when I looked at him. Yet, I blinked them back. "Don't do this, Lucas."I let out a soft sigh. "Lucas, when I was planning this wedding, all I could think of was that at least I could do this one thing for you in this lifetime. Ms. Beaumont's a good woman who can stay by your side for the rest of your life. If you marry her, your career will thrive, and your life will be so much easier." Lucas stood frozen in place, as if he had been nail

  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 6

    Beatrice's POVMy voice was light as a feather. "Later, when I ran out of medication, you started taking every odd job you could find—hauling freight, driving ride-share, delivering food late into the night—just to scrape together enough money for my next round of chemotherapy."I paused before looking out the window. The first light of dawn had broken along the horizon, casting a faint glow over the cityscape and revealing the outlines of the buildings in the distance. "Once, you gave me a bouquet of gardenias. That day, you completed 32 food deliveries. You stank of sweat, and your cuffs were smudged with dirt from hauling cargo. "When you pulled that bouquet out from behind your back, the flowers were already starting to wilt. Then, you wished me a happy birthday." Lucas' hand was shaking, and I could feel it against my palm. "I kept those gardenias on the windowsill in my hospital room. I kept them alive for seven days, and when the last petal fell, I'd just finished my f

  • Planning Dream Weddings to Fund My Funeral   Chapter 5

    Beatrice POVThe hospital's fluorescent lights were glaring, almost blinding. I opened my eyes and stared at the light fixture for several seconds. My stomach felt as though someone was squeezing it, twisting my insides. A tube had been inserted through my nose, sending a cold sensation throughout my body. A needle was stuck into the back of my hand, and transparent fluid slowly dripped into my veins, drop by drop. I wanted to move my arm, only to realize someone was lying face down beside my bed. It was Lucas. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days. His shirt was rumpled, his collar unbuttoned, and dark stubble covered his jawline. The light from the corridor filtered in, accentuating the heavy dark circles under his eyes. Gazing at him quietly, a dull ache suddenly pierced through my chest.I gently moved my fingers, longing to run my hand through his hair like I used to in my previous life. However, as the needle tugged at the skin on the back of my hand, the faint stin

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