Ethan made me realize that someone who truly wants to marry me wouldn’t make me wait even for a minute.
He didn’t say, “Emma, let’s wait until your arm heals before we complete the bond.”
I’ve always chased perfection, and Luke knew exactly how to manipulate that. He’d come up with endless excuses to keep me
waiting, over and over again.
Now, I know that even after my arm heals, it will still leave a scar.
If it were Luke, he’d have turned this into another reason to delay–another excuse to make me wait until the scar was “fixed”
before he’d consider bonding with me.
But I’ve come to accept it now. I’ve finally realized that perfection doesn’t exist.
The scar on my arm is the price I paid for being blind, for refusing to listen, for stubbornly believing that Luke was the only one
for me.
Sitting in the dressing room, I had already changed into the gown Sophia had prepared for me.
Ethan peeked in, holding a pair of long silk gloves.
“Emma, wear these. That way, the most important moment of your life won’t feel incomplete.”
I slipped on the gloves and stood in front of the mirror. The gloves paired perfectly with the gown, making me look elegant and
radiant.
