To Forget the Past

Summary

The night before our engagement, I found transaction records on Eason’s phone — monthly transfers of half his salary to his fallen squadmate’s widow. Her messages were delicately sorrowful.

I showed him the phone and demanded an explanation. He stayed on the balcony all night. At dawn, he came in and said:

“I feel a sense of duty toward her. That’s all.”

I had waited eight years for him. I wasn’t giving him up over money.

So I put on the dress and let the party continue.

But during the ceremony, his childhood friend rushed in, yelling: