Chapter 23
Shelly shot him a frosty look, her voice dripping with disdain. “Seriously, Roy? Get real! Emma moved on ages ago, and Fred’s the only one she cares about now. Even if you grovel forever, she won’t even glance your way.”
Roy acted like he didn’t hear a word, clinging to Shelly’s hand, his voice tinged with desperation. “Please, you’ve got to help me… I know I messed up… I can’t live without her…”
Shelly was so furious she could barely stand it. She ripped her hand away, her voice teetering on the edge of a breakdown. “Roy! Snap out of it! I want you back in Northtown this instant! If you don’t, I’ll have Mom and Dad drag you back!”
But Roy was lost in his own world, his eyes fixated on the entrance of the wedding venue, full of a desperate plea.
Shelly was trembling with frustration. She turned to leave but stopped when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. Roy bolted towards the parking lot like a man on a mission.
Emma and Fred were about to drive off when Roy rushed up to the car window, grabbing Emma’s hand, his voice barely steady. “Emma… where are you going?”
Emma looked at him with icy indifference, her words laced with sarcasm. “I just got married. Where do you think I’m going? To the honeymoon suite, obviously.”
Roy’s face went ashen, his heart felt like it was in a vice, squeezing the life out of him. “Emma… what do I have to do for you to forgive me? me? Should I get down on my knees? I’m begging you… don’t do this…“}
And with that, he dropped to his knees, the sound echoing with pain and regret. For someone as proud as him, kneeling like this was unthinkable.
Emma didn’t even give him a second glance, shaking off his hand with an icy finality. “Roy, it’s over. Please, stop following me.” The wedding car started to move, and the sound of the wheels felt like a hammer, pounding against Roy’s heart.
Roy stumbled after it like a madman, shouting hoarsely as he ran, “Emma! Emma! Don’t go! I’m sorry… I really get it now… Please forgive me…”
He cut a pathetic figure on the street, his hair whipped around by the wind, his steps unsteady but driven by a desperate determination. As he ran, he cried out with a voice torn by despair and regret, “Emma! Emma!“}
Each cry was a plea for forgiveness.
Roy didn’t know how long he ran, his legs felt like lead, every breath was a struggle, each gasp accompanied by crushing chest pain. He felt like he was falling apart, on the brink of collapse. His gaze remained locked on the wedding car, where Emma never once looked back.
in this frantic chase, memories he’d tried to bury resurfaced, flooding his mind.
He remembered every lie he told Emma, each promise that was nothing but deceit, stabbing his heart like daggers. He recalled Emma’s kindness, how she cared for him when he was sick, her endless patience in their intimate moments; every cherished memory now felt like a relentless judgment.
She was so amazing, such a wonderful person, once his, and now she was marrying someone else.
“Emma… please don’t… Don’t marry him… I’m begging you…”
His voice dwindled to a whisper, almost a sob. But the car didn’t stop, and Emma’s silhouette slowly faded into the night.
Just then, a car spiraled out of control, veering towards him. The headlights blazed, illuminating Roy’s pale face, and before he could react, a loud crash echoed.
His body was hurled into the air, landing heavily on the ground. Pain surged through his limbs, his consciousness began to wane, and
the world around him went dark.
In that last flicker of awareness, one thought lingered: “If I die… Emma,.. will you forgive me…”
