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.

The Last Time I'll Cry for You

[Are you still going to marry me tomorrow?]

Rosalyn glanced at Julia, who was sound asleep, when she received the text late at night.

She then replied: [Here's my address—come pick me and my grandmother up tomorrow. Just don't come if you change your mind.]

[See you tomorrow, my bride!]

Just seeing the reply left Rosalyn with swelling bitterness inside.

She would be a bride soon too, but her groom was an internet friend whom she had never met.

It wasn't like lost love had pushed her over the brink—she just didn't want Julia to worry for her or be disappointed.

Moreover, even though she hadn't met her internet friend before, they had been chatting online for ten years.

Since a human only lives a few decades, someone willing to spend ten years with her was enough to win her trust.

-

It was midnight when Carl called.

Not wanting to disturb Julia, Rosalyn went outside to answer the call. "Is there anything else, Mr. Grant?"

Carl was left rubbing between his brows on the other end of the call—she seemed to say that a lot lately.

"Why aren't you home?" he asked.

For some reason, he had been feeling irritable and uneasy.

As such, he drove to the house where he and Rosalyn had lived for six years, but the bedroom was neat and tidy.

She wasn't there.

Rosalyn could tell where he was, but she didn't know if he had noticed that her possessions were already gone.

"I'm with Grandma," she admitted.

Carl looked around the dark room.

He entered without turning on the lights because he was worried about waking Rosalyn up, but now, he needed the endless darkness to stay calm.

He sat on the couch, noticing for the first time how eerie the house was when it was this silent. "What are you doing over there?"

Hearing that, Rosalyn knew right away that he never noticed that she had left with her things.

So he didn't even care that much—if he did, he would've noticed that her clothes were missing from the closet and her toothbrush was gone from the bathroom.

The rest of the house would have no sign of her, for that matter.

Still, it suited her fine—she wouldn't have any problems during her wedding tomorrow.

"Didn't you say you'll bring Grandma along?" Rosalyn asked, ignoring his question.

Carl was silent for a few beats. "I'll definitely send someone over."

"No, it's fine. I'll come with Grandma… I'm sure you'll be busy tomorrow," Rosalyn said, understanding as ever.

"Rosie," Carl called out her name, his deep voice clearly fighting back swelling emotions. "Y-You have to come tomorrow, do you understand?"

"Why me?" Rosalyn asked, staring above at the stars.

She noticed just then that they were especially beautiful tonight as there were plenty of them covering the entire night sky.

Carl sighed softly. "Just come as you promised, and you'll know why tomorrow."

But she wouldn't go tomorrow—and he would lose her forever.

So she didn't want to know whatever he was going to say.

"Carl," Rosalyn called out to him just then, her expression calm and neutral. "All the best."

Carl could cry for some reason when he heard those words.

Rubbing his face to stop it, he said, "I'd rather you tell me directly tomorrow."

Rosalyn raised a brow—was he trying to prove something to Zoe?

But Rosalyn was reluctant to think about it at this point.

Shivering against the night breeze, she sighed. "I'm sleepy. I'm turning in."

She hung up, still looking up at the ocean of stars overhead when her eyes closed, a single tear trickling down the corner of her eye.

"This is the last time I'll cry for you, Carl Grant."