Three years ago, Hayden was the one who pushed me to join Doctors Without Borders. He thought I was too emotional, that I cried over everything and got upset whenever I saw him with other women. He once told me, "It's not that I don't have feelings for you, Nora. It's just that you're too unstable to be my wife."

"So here's the plan," he continued. "Spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. It'll help you grow and become more composed. When you've matured, you can come back, and we can be together."

I believed him. I worked hard, studied diligently, and finally applied to join the organization. The day I got my acceptance letter was one of the happiest days of my life. I thought, "Just get through these three years, and then I'll be Hayden's wife."

But now that I'm back, he's become a father.

As I come back to the present, I realize my face is wet with tears, which keep falling despite my attempts to wipe them away.

“I hope she never comes back,” Hayden said nonchalantly, intertwining his fingers with the woman beside him.

“All I want now is a life with Laila," he continued, "growing old together, hand in hand.”

“Oh, that's amazing! I wish my girlfriend would have a baby with me too!” someone around him cheered.

“But Hayden, have you thought about how to explain this to Nora Stewart?” another person asked.

At the mention of my name, his expression instantly turned cold. “I never wanted her to come back,” he said, lowering his head to comfort the woman beside him. “The butler will handle everything. Don’t worry; it will always be just you and me.”

Snow started to fall, landing on the tip of my nose and sending a chill straight to my heart.

Three years ago, on the day I left, I clung to Hayden’s arm and asked, “Will you really marry me when I return?”

He ruffled my hair and spoke in a voice as soothing as a lullaby, “Of course, by then you’ll be much more composed. Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you. It will always be just you.”

But now that I've become more composed, he's with someone else. Why? Why did he have to deceive me?

My chest tightened with a painful ache as tears unwillingly streamed down my face.

In Africa, in war-torn Afghanistan, I treated the wounded amidst gunfire, always thinking, “I have to survive, survive so I can marry Hayden.”

I even applied to come back home a year early to surprise him. And today, I finally returned, only for him to surprise me first.

As they passed by, I overheard someone mention, "Did you hear Hayden Tran bought a yacht for his wedding with Laila?"

I quickly hid behind a tree, trying to stay out of sight.

"Wow, I'm so jealous. But what about Nora Stewart? Wasn't she crazy about Hayden?"

"Seriously? Haven't you heard? Three years ago, he conned her into going overseas to volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. Who knows if she'll even make it back in one piece?"

"Hayden just wanted to be with Laila. He was worried Nora would cause drama, so he did what he had to."

"As soon as she left the country, he hooked up with Laila."

Their words sliced through the air, cruel and clear, reaching my ears.

So Hayden had orchestrated this from the start, planning it all three years ahead.

And there I was, naively trusting him at every turn. The conditions abroad were brutal, yet I bore it all, thinking if I persevered, I would come back to marry him.

As they moved on, congratulating Hayden, one person teased, "Hayden, Nora's been into you for so many years. Aren't you worried about leaving her out in those tough conditions as a doctor?"

Hayden didn't even flinch, his eyes focused on his son.

"She's the one who's into me, not the other way around," he replied, his tone dismissive.

"If it weren't for my dad adopting her and his fondness for her, I would have set the record straight ages ago."

"You all know she's seven years younger than me. There's no chance I'd ever be interested in her."

"It's always been her chasing after me."

Their mocking laughter surrounded me, and despite the sunny day, I felt a chill run through me.

I was adopted by the Tran family when I was sixteen, just starting high school. Back then, Hayden was already twenty-three, fresh out of university. He came from a wealthy background and was strikingly handsome, constantly surrounded by a swarm of admirers.

I would often feel a pang of jealousy and approach him, saying, "Hayden, can't you keep your distance from those girls?" He would chuckle softly and ruffle my hair, replying, "Whatever Nora wants, Nora gets."

In my teenage heart, I mistook that for love. I did everything I could to be near him, to understand his interests, and to become the kind of person he would cherish. At eighteen, I put on a glamorous Victorian-style dress and high heels for the first time. During a Thanksgiving party, when a rich young man struck up a conversation with me, Hayden dragged me into the restroom and kissed me passionately. His dark eyes were intense, as his tousled hair fell forward and he pressed his forehead against mine, declaring, "You belong to me."

Initially, he filled me with hope, showing affection in countless ways. Yet now, he accused me of being clingy. Heartbroken, I walked away, unable to hold back my tears as I reached the door. My hands trembled as I took out my phone and opened WhatsApp. The latest message was from Hayden: "Happy birthday, Nora."

At that moment, I was in the middle of saving a pregnant woman, covered in blood, having been awake for over twenty-four hours. But his message gave me a renewed sense of energy. I wiped away my tears and called him through voice chat.