Enduring the Storm for a New Spring

Philip offered a small smile, nonchalantly moving on. "The bill, please."

When they stepped outside, Jane said carefully, "Mr. Dillon, that day when you gave me the wedding dress, I noticed Ms. Brock didn't look very happy. She seemed to really like the first one. Now that I have a new one, maybe you should—"

"No need."

Philip took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke partially hiding his face. Only his voice cut through the cold wind and reached my ears.

"I don't want to get married so soon anyway."

Every excuse he'd ever given me shattered against that one casual sentence.

Of course. All his excuses boiled down to just one truth—he simply didn't want to. He didn't want to marry me or keep his promise. That was it.

Jane drew in a small breath. "But I think I saw Ms. Brock's Instagram. She's already announced the wedding date. Not just that, but I also heard the invitations have even been made. Is she… trying to force you into this?"

Philip's smile turned cold at those words. "She doesn't have that kind of power. At most, she'll just use her mom to push me."

The wind picked up, and the swirling snow blurred my vision.

I wrapped my coat tighter around me and turned to leave with the wedding dress in hand.

At home, I called the bridal shop to arrange for the dress to be picked up and returned.

After hanging up, I sat at my desk, staring at the wedding invitation template on my laptop.

The gold lettering and delicate designs were everything Philip and I had dreamed of—the perfect picture of warmth and romance.

Except the groom's name wasn't his.

The next morning, I printed the invitations and drove straight to the hospital. I wanted Mom to see them first and put her mind at ease.

But when I reached her ward and pushed the door open, I froze.

Philip and Jane were there, standing by Mom's bedside. They were laughing and talking.

When Jane saw me, her smile widened. "Ms. Brock! We've been chatting with your mom for a while now!"

A sharp gleam of triumph and provocation flickered in her eyes.

A surge of anger and panic shot through me. I was worried about what they might say in front of Mom.

I hurried forward and stood between them and the bed before confronting Philip. "What are you doing here? Who let you in?"

Philip's face flickered with surprise when he saw me, but it quickly hardened into a cold mask. His voice was thick with accusation as he said, "I'm here to see Mrs. Brock. You kept telling me that her condition is getting worse and that she won't last much longer.

"Elyse Brock, what exactly are you trying to do? Are you using your mom's illness to trick me into marrying you? That's some talent you've got."

His words cut like a knife straight into my heart.

Mom's expression changed instantly as well. She looked at me in confusion, then at Philip. Her lips parted as if to speak, but the words never came.

When I saw that, my eyes stung. I shoved Philip, trying to get him out of the ward. "Get out! You're not welcome here. Leave!"

Suddenly, Jane stepped forward and grabbed my arm. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she said, "Ms. Brock, don't be mad. If you're upset about the wedding dress, I can return it to you right now. Okay?"

Her voice was loud, clearly meant for Mom to hear.

Sure enough, Mom's brow furrowed, and she asked with a voice that was frail yet urgent, "What wedding dress? Elyse, what's going on?"

My heart sank. I hurried to block Jane, not wanting her to continue.