Chapter 2

In that post, the author boasted about how drastically her crush's demeanor changed. He once hated her with a passion, but now, he was willing to neglect his first love over and over again just for her. But her story was so dramatic that few believed it. Many people accused her of making it up for clout and unfollowed her. Some believed her, calling her shameless and disgusting. Margaret didn't exactly know how she felt about the posts. But every time the thread updated, she couldn't stop herself from clicking it. Sure enough, as soon as she opened it, she saw a new post. "I said I was craving donuts, so he ditched his first love and went out of his way just to buy them for me." Again, some people were mocking her for daydreaming or telling her to start writing screenplays instead. Margaret stared at the screen for a while. Forcing herself to stop overthinking, she turned off her phone. While Lester was still out, she opened the drawer and swallowed a handful of sleeping pills. Ever since she became crippled six months ago, her life had fallen apart. Depression had consumed her, and she'd been pulling herself through endless sleepless nights. It was agonizing. With her world falling apart, Lester was her only hope left. It was already dark out when Lester returned. The moment he stepped into Margaret's hospital room, she caught sight of the bag of donuts in his hand. Her face paled. "W-Why did you suddenly buy these?" she asked. But he didn't seem to notice her strange tone. Gently handing one to her, he smiled and replied, "I saw them and thought of you. Didn't you love these back in school?" Memories of their past flooded Margaret's mind. Back in their second year of high school, they had stayed on campus. She had always craved snacks, and he'd sneak out at night just to buy her donuts. And every time she finished eating, he'd lean in with a grin and kiss her. "Margie, after all that trouble I went through… don't I deserve a kiss?" Her ears would burn as she nervously clutched her uniform, letting his kisses rain down on her. Every kiss reminded her of how sweet the donuts tasted. Snapped out of her thoughts, Margaret nibbled at the donut he handed her. "How's Scarlett doing lately?" she finally asked. "Are you still unwilling to let her go?" Lester looked unfazed. "Margie, she deserves every bit of it. I won't let her off so easily. I'll make sure she pays." Before Margaret could say anything else, he pulled her into his arms and changed the subject. "Our wedding is coming up. I'm taking you to try on dresses tomorrow. How about that?" They were supposed to get married six months ago. But the sudden accident had forced them to cancel the wedding, delaying it until now. Margaret glanced at her legs, her eyes dimming. "Lester… I'm no longer who I used to be." His brows furrowed as he held her tighter. "That's nonsense." "I mean it." She looked up at him. "If you don't love me anymore, just tell me. I won't blame you." She just didn't want him to lie to her. But Lester was still as unwavering as ever. "Margie, I don't want anyone else except you. If you ever leave me, I'll just kill myself." He looked so unyielding, as if he'd throw himself off a building if she so much as let him go. Margaret stared at him for a long time before her eyes started to redden, and she leaned against his shoulder. … The next day, they went to the bridal shop. Margaret sat in her wheelchair as Lester wheeled her inside. Perhaps traumatized by the previous incident, he cleared out the entire store. He brought a whole entourage, keeping his eyes glued to her all the time as if he were terrified something might happen again. That fierce protectiveness made even the shop owner envious. Rows upon rows of gowns were at Margaret's disposal, and Lester kept her company without the slightest hint of impatience. "Ms. Reynolds, you're so lucky," the owner gushed. "Such patient husbands are rare." Margaret smiled and selected one of the dresses she liked. "I'd like to try this one." Lester tried to follow her into the fitting room, but she stopped him. "I can do this on my own, Lester." Though reluctant, he let her go. Margaret wheeled herself inside, then slowly stood up. Six months of rehab had allowed her to walk—although a bit clumsily. But she couldn't bear people watching her limp, so she stayed in the chair. Changing took her a long time. When she was done, she didn't sit back in the wheelchair. She wanted Lester to see her standing on her own two feet. Step by step, she trudged out, slow and unsteady. The door opened, and she immediately caught everyone's attention.