The Train to Farewell

When I was eighteen, I used my heart’s blood to save Terry after he was shipwrecked, binding us in a three-year tribulation contract.

But on the day of our ninth wedding attempt, Terry backed out again.

Instead of arguing as I had in the past, I calmly proposed, "Let's just call it off."

He frowned, his tone carrying a mix of exasperation and blame.

"Don't throw a temper tantrum. Amara isn't doing well right now. This trip is very important to her. It's just a one-week delay. We'll get married the moment we get back."

I remained quiet for a moment, then finally nodded.