I'll Need a Groom Too

As Zoe tried on her wedding dresses, she finally dispensed with her innocent appearance and revealed her true nature.

Sneering at Rosalyn, she asked, "So, do you finally understand your place, Ms. Jones?"

However, Rosalyn's heart was already too numb to feel anything. "What's so impressive about you, dumping Carl when he's out of luck, and returning when he succeeds?"

"So what?" Zoe shrugged, at once smug and pompous. "He loves me, so he's going to marry me. Sure, you slept with him while he overcame a dark period of his life, but he still ended up leaving you."

And that was the truth.

Rosalyn refused to play the jealous game with her or compete with their abilities to keep a man.

Instead, she asked bluntly, "Why are you telling me all this, Ms. Quayle?"

Zoe replied bluntly. "I don't ever want to see you again after my wedding."

Rosalyn suddenly burst into dazzling laughter.

She was going to leave—but she wouldn't let anyone chase her off.

So, she didn't humor her boss's future wife and instead asked provokingly, "In that case, why don't you ask Carl to tell me to leave?"

Zoe's eyes narrowed murderously. "You still think Carl loves you, don't you?"

Rosalyn snorted.

No! She no longer held any fantasies after Carl took her ring and gave it to Zoe.

"That's a beautiful bridal gown, Ms. Quayle. Your wedding is going to be perfect."

And with those words, Rosalyn stepped out of the dressing room.

Carl had already changed. He looked sharp in his dark suit and appeared soft-spoken with the frameless glasses over his nose.

Just like when Rosalyn had first met him, she wondered how there could be a man this good-looking.

Now, he looked even more handsome—he was eye candy that would send any maiden's heart racing.

But if Rosalyn could turn back time, she'd never talk to him in that bar and would keep her distance.

While she couldn't change her past, if she could choose her future, she wished he wouldn't be there in her future.

Carl walked up to her just then, pointing at the wedding dresses up front and said, "Go on, pick whichever you want."

For what? To stop his wedding?

She wasn't that childish!

"I'll need a groom too, Mr. Grant," she scoffed. "Perhaps you have one available?"

Carl's expression darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rosalyn brushed her fingers on the wedding dress fabric as she mused, "Just suddenly thought that I should get married too."

"Are you doing this on purpose? I told you—"

Before Carl could finish, the dressing room door opened, and Zoe stepped out.

Even Rosalyn paused when she saw the million-dollar dress.

She had once imagined that she would be dressed in white too, with Carl by her side.

But it was ultimately just a dream, and the bubble would always inevitably burst.

"Don't I look pretty, Carl?" Zoe asked, once again an innocent, guileless maiden around him.

"Yes. You're the fairest of them all," Carl replied.

He had told Rosalyn those same words before.

Roses don't wither in a single day—that certainly applied to love too.

And Rosalyn's love for Carl died because of his words and actions.

"Don't I look pretty, Ms. Jones?" Zoe asked Rosalyn just then and came over to pull her along. "Come on, you have to pick a wedding dress too—I'll tell Carl to buy it for you when you marry."

She had no idea what Zoe had in her hands, but she felt her arm hurting, like a needle was stabbed into her, and instinctively shook Zoe off.

Even as Zoe cried out in panic and fell backward, she didn't forget to grab Rosalyn so that she fell as well.

"Zoe!" Carl exclaimed as he came running, catching Zoe just in time.

On the other hand, Rosalyn slammed her head painfully atop the cold floor tiles with a loud thud.

The entire bridal boutique seemed to quake even as the world spun around her, and she heard ringing in her head.

Still, she somehow remembered Zoe's question—did she still hold on to hopes that Carl still loved her?

And now, she had her answer.

I Could Only Save One

If anything, Rosalyn was lucky for not getting a concussion despite that nasty fall.

However, the lump on the back of her head was real and could be distinctly felt if touched.

While she was touching it, she wasn't looking where she was going and bumped headlong into someone.

"Sorry… Mr. Hammond," she said as she looked up and saw the familiar face.

Eric Hammond was wearing a grey silk shirt and a tailored suit, accentuating the elegant lines of his body from shoulder to waist.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

He was tall—the top of her head only reached his chin, so he naturally saw the lump on her head.

"I'm fine." Rosalyn took a step back, withdrawing from his hand.

He slid it into his pocket without missing a beat, his dark gaze studying her as he asked, "Do you need help?"

"I'm fine," Rosalyn repeated, and then remembered something. "Oh, congratulations on your wedding!"

He stopped looking at the lump just then with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes. "Likewise."

Likewise? What?

Was she supposed to celebrate being dumped by the man she loved for seven years as he married another woman?

Wait, she was going to get married too, and on the same day as well… so 'likewise' did make sense.

Rosalyn glanced at him again and said, "Goodbye."

With that, she was gone.

-

The fall was not completely terrible for Rosalyn—she could now take sick leave to pack her things.

Carl owned the house where she lived, and they had both lived together until three months ago.

He moved to Maple Park after Zoe returned, and this place had become her bachelorette pad.

Even so, Carl's personal effects were everywhere—his socks were in the shoe cupboard, his clothes in their shared closet, and the bar was filled with his favorite stock of alcohol.

Even the blanket he used was left on the couch.

Rosalyn never moved any of it for the last three months, as if Carl would return if she didn't.

But now, she understood.

Neither she nor those things would see the day he returned.

So she packed her things while leaving his untouched, gathering everything from decorations, trinkets, clothes, and other daily necessities.

When Carl arrived, he immediately noticed that something was wrong but couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He stopped coming since he got together with Zoe and was surprised to find the place unfamiliar.

Rosalyn was surprised that he came too. "Yes, Mr. Grant? Does Ms. Quayle need something else?"

Carl stared at her pale face and asked, "How's your head?"

"I won't die," she replied brusquely.

After she got hurt, she had to go to the hospital on her own because he was hugging Zoe.

Because Zoe was scared.

Rosalyn was only human—even if he was heartless, and she wouldn't beg for his sympathy, she still had a temper.

She had been with him when he was down and out.

Even if there was no love involved, he should at least show some loyalty to a comrade whom they had fought to build an empire with.

But when she got hurt, he had told her to go to the hospital on her own.

Carl strode up right then, pulling her into his arms and brushing her hair off the lump, touching it.

It hurt so much that she cringed and pushed him away.

Carl reached for her hand again nonetheless. "Why didn't you get that checked? We're going to the hospital."

Rosalyn quickly avoided him. "The doctor said it's a blood blister. What, am I supposed to drain the whole thing at the hospital?"

It would only shrink as the bad blood was slowly reintegrated.

Carl grimaced, feeling pained for her. "Look, Rosie… It's not like I didn't want to save you. It just happened out of the blue, and I could only save one…"

He could only save one, so he saved the one he loved.

Instincts truly reflected the heart as they said, and Rosalyn understood even without him telling her.

"She's your fiancee—I understand," she said, hanging her head and unable to stop the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Rosie…"

But before Carl could explain, his phone rang.

Seeing the number, he silenced it and said, "Just get some rest—someone else will handle the wedding, but you have to be there on the day of."

She's Not Coming Tomorrow

Eventually, Carl simply told Rosalyn to get some rest.

But she didn't—she had plenty to do.

After handing over the tasks she had on hand at work, she compiled and sorted all the documents, including Carl's itinerary.

At the pantry, she heard her colleagues gossiping that Carl had rented every electronic billboard in Cromwell to livestream his wedding.

The next day, Rosalyn had sorted all her possessions into boxes and donated what she didn't need to charity.

She then overheard one of the volunteers talking about the Hammonds inviting all of Cromwell to a public banquet celebrating Eric's wedding—anyone could attend, and without even bringing gifts.

And on the third day, she traveled to Mount Eternity, spending six hours grinding off her and Carl's names that they had sculpted on the Timeless Stone.

By the time she was done, her fingers were bleeding.

Later that night, she saw Carl and Zoe being interviewed together, where Carl promised a breathtaking wedding ceremony.

On the fourth day, the day before the two weddings, Rosalyn arrived at the wedding hall as Carl and Zoe rehearsed.

Zoe was even eagerly inviting Rosalyn on stage, chirping, "Ms. Jones, you'll stand behind me so I can throw my bouquet to you. That way, you'll inherit our blessing and find a partner soon."

Rosalyn did as she asked and watched as the entire wedding was rehearsed, with Carl reading the wedding vow to Zoe and putting the ring on her finger.

Still, as Zoe closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss, Carl didn't kiss her.

Instead, he had turned to Rosalyn to find her staring at him in turn, calm and composed.

He found her such a stranger this way, and there was this nagging but unknown feeling in his heart, coupled with unease and panic.

"Alright, the rehearsal is done. I'm tired," Carl said just before the kiss.

Part of Rosalyn wished she could see them kiss—it would only make her heart grow colder toward Carl. She wouldn’t see it tomorrow, though; she wasn’t coming to the wedding.

"Carl…" Zoe pouted unhappily because she really wanted to kiss Carl as Rosalyn watched—so that she wouldn't hold on to any false hopes.

However, Carl ignored Zoe and called out, "Rosalyn, over here."

"Yes, Mr. Grant?" Rosalyn asked formally.

He stared at Rosalyn as he loosened his necktie, clearly having things to say but not knowing how to say them.

Eventually he merely threw her his necktie. "Get me a new one."

Once he was out of earshot, Zoe promptly went up and snatched Carl's necktie away, growling coolly at Rosalyn, "I don't want to see you tomorrow. Don't you dare show your face at my wedding."

She saw how Carl was looking at Rosalyn earlier and knew that Carl must have refrained from kissing her for Rosalyn's sake.

She wanted Rosalyn to come to her wedding before so that Rosalyn could watch them be happy and back off.

But now, she regretted the idea—she was really worried that Rosalyn would pull something.

Rosalyn smiled faintly as she saw the panic on Zoe's face. "Well, that's one less bridesmaid for you."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about a thing," Zoe threatened viciously. "Either way, you'd better not show up, or you'll be humiliated."

Rosalyn nodded quietly, remembering Zoe at the boutique the other day, and hooked her finger at Zoe. "Sure, but there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" Zoe blurted.

Though reluctantly, she tamely walked toward Rosalyn when the latter suddenly reached out and grabbed her.

Zoe's eyes widened as she felt a sharp pain thrusting into her hip. "How dare—"

"Ms. Quayle," Rosalyn spoke out loud, drowning out her voice. "Allow me to wish you all the best with Mr. Grant, and may you start a happy family soon."

And with every word, she thrusted the needle deeper into Zoe's waist, just as Zoe had done to her the other day.