My heart raced as I stared at my phone screen, seeing Derek’s name appear. It had been three months since our wedding day, the day full of love and anticipation that turned into heartbreak and confusion. I didn’t know what to expect as I answered the call.
“Hello?” I spoke softly, unsure of what Derek had to say after disappearing on our special day.
There was a pause, and I could hear Derek’s heavy breathing. “Is that really you?” he asked, his voice filled with emotion.
My initial anger subsided, replaced with a hint of sympathy. “Yes, it’s me,” I replied, my voice tinged with sadness. “Where have you been, Derek? What happened on our wedding day?”
His voice trembled as he confessed, “I’m so sorry, Emily. I was scared and unsure if I could commit to being a husband. I panicked and ran.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to his words, the pain of his betrayal still fresh. But amidst it all, a glimmer of hope emerged, a sliver of a chance for us to mend what was broken.
With a heavy heart and cautious optimism, I agreed to meet Derek in person. I wanted to hear him out, to confront the past and see if there was any hope of salvaging our shattered relationship. Standing on the precipice of uncertainty, I knew that rebuilding what was lost required facing the pain and fear head-on. And perhaps, just maybe, we could find a way back to each other.
