The Price of His Affair: Groveling For My ForgivenessChapter 1

My mom, terminal with cancer, sat in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank, having endured a grueling twenty-hour Greyhound bus ride just to be at my wedding to Ethan.

But when it was his time to walk down the aisle, I called his name until I was hoarse, but he was nowhere in sight.

Turns out, his childhood sweetheart, Sophia, was having a depressive episode, threatening suicide again:

"Ethan, I can't live without you."

My usually stoic fiancé was holding Sophia tightly, desperately begging me to stop the wedding, to let them leave.

Relatives and friends tried to stifle their laughter, watching the absolute train wreck unfold. Right at that moment, as she crossed the hotel threshold, my mom took her last breath. My wedding became her funeral.

Seeing my mom dead, Ethan’s eyes reddened slightly as he looked at me, a hint of guilt surfacing.

"I promise, as soon as I get her checked into the ER, I'll rush right back to marry you. I promise we'll fulfill Mom's last wish."

But he forgot, this was the 96th time he'd hurt me.

And I wasn't going to marry him anymore. Calmly, I texted him, breaking things off.

Ethan, however, just brought his childhood sweetheart back to our home.

* * *

"The groom ran off with another woman, right at the altar! Any normal person would lose it, but she actually let him go?"

"Tsk tsk, mother and daughter both have bad luck with men, can't even hold onto one. So embarrassing!"

Below the stage, guests pointed and whispered about me. My mom, overwhelmed by Ethan's cruelty, collapsed, unconscious.

"Mom!" I screamed, catching her, starting chest compressions, trying desperately to perform CPR.

Everyone was startled, but no one stepped forward to help.

Panicked, I begged Ethan, "Ethan! Please, can we get my mom to the hospital first?"

Ethan, still holding Sophia, saw everything.

He shot a cold glance at my mom, his voice dripping with impatience.

"You say your mom's dying every other day. How long are you going to keep up this act?"

"Sophia's depression is life-threatening. Having another person in the car could trigger her even more. Are you trying to kill her?"

His entire world revolved around Sophia. He didn't even care that my mom had collapsed.

He'd completely forgotten that his entire successful business was built on the life savings my mom scraped together for him to start it.

How could someone be so cold-blooded?

I kept doing compressions, but Mom didn't wake up. Seeing this, the crowd finally panicked, chaos erupted, and someone finally called 911.

Amidst the commotion, Ethan tried to leave, but Sophia, fidgeting, stopped him.

After Ethan coaxed her gently several times, Sophia spoke, her voice sickeningly sweet and manipulative:

"Ethan, I feel really awful. Since Auntie isn't using her wheelchair right now, could I maybe use it?"

Instantly, complex gazes fell upon me.

And I just stared, hard, at Ethan.

The wedding was ruined. My mother and I were already beyond humiliated.

Now he wanted to push it even further, take my dying mother's wheelchair for Sophia?

Feeling the woman in his arms tremble, Ethan's eyes filled with guilt as he looked at me:

"Chloe, your mom isn't using the wheelchair right now anyway. Letting Sophia use it for a bit... you wouldn't refuse, right?"

A bitter taste filled my mouth. I almost forgot. Sophia was his childhood sweetheart.

The one who made Ethan ditch my birthdays, ignore me when I was sick, even when my mom was critically ill.

The reason he'd sabotaged our wedding eight times before this.

How could I possibly win against that?

But I didn't want to agree.

Probably sensing my answer, Ethan spoke again after a moment:

"Years ago, you promised you'd grant me ninety-nine requests, unconditionally. Let this be one of those requests, okay?"

"You still have dozens left, right?"

Hearing Ethan say this, my eyes instantly welled up.

Back when my mom first got seriously ill, it was Ethan who knelt by her bedside, begging her to let him marry me.

He sold everything he owned to scrape together money for her treatment.

Mom was deeply grateful and agreed to the marriage. I asked him then how I could ever repay such kindness.

He scratched his head, casually saying:

"Your mom already agreed to let us get married."

But I insisted:

"My mom is my mom. I am me."

Sensing my sincerity, he said:

"Then... just unconditionally grant me 99 requests, or let me hurt you 99 times, and we'd call it even."

In the four years after we got engaged, Ethan never made a single request.

Until Sophia reappeared a year ago. Since then, he'd used up 96.

But this time, he was wrong.

First, there weren't "dozens" left.

Second, this involved my mother's life. I could never agree.

What I didn't expect was that before I could even answer, Ethan grabbed the wheelchair and put Sophia in it.

"Remember, you owe me one less now."

Seeing him act like this, and not wanting to waste time arguing, I had no choice but to lift my mother onto my back myself. But as I passed Sophia, I caught a fleeting, malicious smirk on her face.

The next second, she stuck her foot out, tripping me.

I crashed hard onto the floor, my chin hitting the tile. Pain shot through my entire body. Mom was thrown from my back.

Gasps erupted from the crowd. I scrambled to protect my mom.

Beside me, Sophia spat out venomously:

"Sister, even if you're trying to fake a fall to get Ethan's sympathy, you can't be heartless enough to use your own mom, can you? Auntie's still just pretending to be unconscious."

Someone in the crowd chimed in:

"Ungrateful daughter! Your mom's collapsed, and you're still here fighting over a man? Shameless!"

Unable to watch my humiliation, Ethan started to reach out to help me, but hearing the accusation, his hand dropped.

"Chloe, get your mom up! Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough?"

Sophia tugged at Ethan's sleeve.

"Okay, Ethan, don't be mad about this little thing. Quick, let's go to the hospital pharmacy."

Seeing that I didn't argue, just staggered to my feet and struggled to lift Mom onto my back again, limping.

Ethan started pushing the wheelchair, following me, a hint of concern in his voice:

"Maybe find someone to help you carry her?"

Beside him, Sophia chuckled lightly:

"Sister, you're the woman who can carry a fridge up six flights of stairs. Why suddenly can't you carry a person today?"

"You're not... deliberately blocking my way, are you?"

Hearing this, Ethan instantly distanced himself from me, disgust flashing in his eyes:

"Chloe, why have you become so petty? You know Sophia's having an episode, yet you're deliberately walking so slow. If you can't walk, get out of the way! Don't block the path!"

Me, petty?

He used to praise me for being understanding, saying he appreciated that I never questioned his need to care for Sophia, and he treated me well because of it.

But later, after he ditched me countless times for Sophia, the moment I asked even a mild question, he called me small-minded, accusing me of picking on a sick person.

And now, because of Sophia, we had become unrecognizable versions of ourselves.

His heart had completely tilted away from me.

After a long wait, the ambulance finally arrived.

I placed Mom on the stretcher. Just as I was about to get in, Sophia grabbed my arm again:

"Sister, I'm a patient too, I need to go to the hospital. Give me your spot."

I clenched my teeth so hard they ground together, looking at Ethan.

Ethan looked awkward, and for once, he actually stopped her:

"They don't need to take you. I'll drive you to the hospital. Be good."

Only then did the ambulance doors close.

An hour later, I sat outside the emergency room, tears streaming down my face.

Mom didn't make it. She died in the ER.

The doctor said the ambulance arrived too late. If it had been just ten minutes earlier, the outcome might have been different.

As I stood numbly outside the ER, Ethan finally showed up.

The thought that Mom would still be alive if not for him and Sophia consumed me. Overcome with grief, I wanted to slap him across the face.

But unexpectedly, the moment I raised my hand, he caught it excitedly.

His face lit up with happiness:

"Chloe, thank god you were understanding enough to stop the wedding and let us go! Sophia's episode was really serious. You were so considerate, you saved her life again."

He glanced at the extinguished light above the ER door and said casually:

"Looks like Mom's okay too. Great. You take care of Mom first, I'll come visit her when I have time."

"Next time, I promise the wedding will go smoothly. Mom will definitely get to see us get married, my beautiful bride..."

He finished speaking and ran off.

He had no idea. Once the debt was repaid, I was leaving.

And my mom would never see me get married.