No Forgiveness For The Broken Groom
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Summary
The night before our wedding, my dad’s right foot was crushed under a heavy metal stage prop while he was helping set up the reception venue.
When I begged my fiancé to drive us to the ER, he didn't even look up from his phone.
"Just put some Bengay on it. It’s late—stop being so dramatic, Patricia."
As the words left Brandon's mouth, my dad quietly pulled his blood-soaked foot back, trying to hide it behind his other leg. The pain must have been agonizing, but he just forced a placating smile, his rough, weathered hands smoothing down the fabric of his cheap, off-the-rack suit.
