Dying After Ten Years of His Betrayal

Eleanor's POV

Our engagement has gone unfulfilled for ten years.

My parents saved his family in that yacht accident. With their dying breath, they asked his family to look after me. In return, we go to city hall every year, trying to fulfill this obligation.

Ten attempts. Ten failures.

Elevator malfunctions, food poisoning, home invasions, car crashes... Every single time, I get hurt at the worst possible moment while he walks away without a scratch.

This makes ten. A truck slams into the passenger side, my head smashes against the window, and he's already running across the street, pulling that woman into his arms.

On my way to find him after they stitch me up, I hear his assistant's voice in the hospital corridor:

"Mr. Ashford, the truck driver's been taken care of. Money'll hit his account like we agreed... but is this really fair to Miss Bennett? It's been ten years, every single year—"

William's voice comes out low and tired. "I don't have a choice. Her parents saved me, but I'm in love with Emma."

I look down at the diagnosis. ALS. Late stage.

Turns out I've been trying to marry a lie this whole time.

The car was heading toward city hall when Emma appeared in the crosswalk, stumbling forward like something tripped her. William hit the brakes.

Then the truck came barreling through, missing the driver's side completely, the entire front end slamming into the passenger side.

I barely got my arms up to cover my face before my forehead cracked against the window.

Through the glass, I watched him jump out and sprint across the street. The way he held Emma, so careful, like she was the most precious thing in the world.

When the first ambulance arrived, he climbed in with her.

I dragged myself into the second one alone.

After a series of tests, I got the ALS diagnosis. The doctor sugarcoated it, but the meaning was clear. I'm dying.

I wanted to tell him. Wanted him to comfort me, at least. Instead, I heard that conversation.

Ten years, and I finally understand why I'm always the one who gets hurt. Not bad luck. Not some cosmic incompatibility. Someone's been orchestrating this.

Every time, William walks away fine. I'm always the one bleeding.

I thought they were all coincidences.

Now I know better. The world doesn't have that many coincidences.

For ten years, I thought I was waiting for a wedding. Turns out I was waiting for a death sentence.

I fold the diagnosis and tuck it away, then head back to my hospital room and pull out my phone.

Good thing I started recording the moment I heard them talking about the accident. I open my email and start composing.

Ten years of ER reports, surgical records, hospital bills, X-ray photos... Every file is proof that this engagement was a mistake from the start.

In the recipient field, I type William's grandfather's email address.

The old gentleman lives in his European estate most of the year, rarely comes back to the States. That yacht explosion didn't just take my parents. It took his son and daughter-in-law too. Only William survived. After losing his only child, William's grandfather came to the hospital himself, held my hand, and promised he'd take care of me for life.

He's a man who keeps his word. His grandson isn't.

I keep the email body short. "I want what my parents left behind. Then I want out of this engagement."

When I hit send, something strange happens. I feel lighter.

First time in ten years I've chosen to let go.

My phone rings almost immediately. Video call from William's grandfather.

I answer. He's looking at the bandage on my forehead, and there's pain in his eyes.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

"Check your email."

The silence stretches. I hear him clicking through files, the occasional heavy sigh. Halfway through the recording, he takes off his reading glasses and drags his hand down his face.

"Ten years..." His voice cracks. "Ten years, I thought you two just weren't ready yet. I had no idea. I had no idea William was doing this."

"Well, now you do."

"Your parents didn't just save William. They tried everything to save my son and daughter-in-law too..." He closes his eyes. "And this is how the Ashford family repays that trust."

"I don't blame you." It's true. He has always been good to me, calls every year to check in. He didn't know what his grandson was doing behind the scenes.

"I'll handle the engagement. You just focus on healing."

After I hang up, the door opens.

William walks in with Emma. She's got a tiny bandaid on her ankle, leaning into William's side, eyes red-rimmed.

His gaze lands on the bandage across my forehead. His brow furrows. "What'd the tests say?"

I turn my head to look at him, this man I've loved for ten years. Still handsome, still put together. But those eyes don't have room for me anymore.

"Just surface damage." I manage a smile, making sure the diagnosis stays hidden under my pillow. "Nothing serious."

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something.

Emma suddenly chokes out, "I'm so sorry, Eleanor. This is all my fault. If I hadn't stepped out like that, you wouldn't have gotten hurt..."

"He's already wasted so much time on me. You two should just head to city hall. I'll be wishing you both well from here."