Sing Through the Pain

One week before the wedding, I accidentally came across a copy of my girlfriend's abortion procedure report.

She always insisted she was uninterested in being intimate, yet behind my back, she had secretly aborted another man's baby.

Instead of questioning her, I quietly put the report back where I found it.

For the next week, I went along with the wedding planning, picking out the outfits and rings.

But on the day of the wedding, the bride, waiting endlessly for the groom who never came, lost her mind.

Staring down at the abortion report in my hand, I fell silent for a long time.

Nancy Reid and I had known each other for three years. She said she was uninterested in being intimate and always refused to get close to me.

I believed her.

During those three years, aside from holding hands and hugging, we barely kissed at all.

I thought she was the kind of girl with traditional values, and I quietly felt lucky.

But the report in my hand hit me like a hard slap, mocking my foolishness.

I was so careful and cautious with every kiss, yet someone else had already deflowered her.

She had even had an abortion.

I put the report back, as if trying to fool myself.

As long as I pretended I didn't see it, maybe my relationship with Nancy could still be the same.

Late at night, Nancy came home.

But she wasn't alone; there was someone with her.

The moment I saw the man, it was like a bomb went off in my head.

"Gideon, why are you just sitting there? Come help me!" Nancy snapped.

I sat frozen on the couch, staring hard at the man beside her as I asked, "Why did you bring another man to our home?"

Nancy frowned, her face full of impatience.

"What are you yelling about? Keith got drunk today. I didn't want to leave him alone out there, so I'm letting him stay over. What's the problem?"

Keith Ballard looked up. His lips were swollen, and there were red marks on his neck.

I knew exactly what had happened.

He smirked at me, his tone full of challenge.

"Excuse me. Coming through."

Nancy pushed me aside, helped him up, and walked into the house without another word.

Keith was Nancy's boss and her cousin's boyfriend.

But before they could get married, Nancy's cousin passed away.

For years, Nancy had been close to Keith, saying she saw him as a brother.

After helping Keith settle onto the sofa, Nancy went into the kitchen by herself.

Usually, she never touched a thing in the kitchen, but this time, she was making hangover tea.

Her movements were practiced and smooth, as if it was something she'd done many times before.

She had told me she hated men who drank, so I had always had juice at dinners and parties.

So, how did she learn to make hangover tea so skillfully?

Once the tea was ready, Nancy quickly brought it to Keith and fed him carefully, one sip at a time.

Keith wrapped one arm around her slender waist, and when his eyes met mine, a hint of provocation flickered there.

My heart sank deeper.

I thought maybe that was as far as it would go. But to my shock, Nancy helped Keith to the master bedroom.

That house was the one I'd worked extremely hard to buy, the place I planned for us to live in after the wedding.

Yet, I—the groom—was pushed out to sleep in the guest room, while some other man took our bedroom.

"The guest room isn't ready yet. It'd be rude to have a guest stay there, so you'll just have to manage," Nancy said matter-of-factly.

But this was our home. How could she let another man sleep in the master bedroom?

I wanted to say no, but Nancy wasn't asking for my opinion. She was telling me what would happen.

The two of them stayed together until about 2:00 AM. Only then did Nancy reluctantly leave the master room.

I lay in bed, my mind spinning with thoughts of the abortion report and their closeness.

When Nancy finally pushed open the door, I wanted to confront her face-to-face.

If she didn't love me, why did she agree to marry me?

And since she had said yes, why couldn't she keep her distance from other men?

Why could she be so shamelessly close to another man right in front of me?

A flood of questions pressed on my heart, but the words turned into a bitter and helpless statement when they rolled off my tongue.

"The wedding's coming soon; if you've changed your mind, you can tell me now."

I had made up my mind—if she wanted to call off the wedding, I would agree to it.