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Awaiting Love's Spring Blossoms
NovelShort
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When my mom's condition worsened, I begged Mark Caldwell to come with me to the hospital. But instead of showing a shred of compassion, he accused me of interrupting his meeting with his secretary. In...
章節（6）
第1章
When my mom's condition worsened, I begged Mark Caldwell to come with me to the hospital. But instead of showing a shred of compassion, he accused me of interrupting his meeting with his secretary. In a burst of anger, he shoved me out of the car and cut off my bank card.
Bleeding from my feet, I made it to the hospital only to find that my mom had missed her treatment—and I had missed the chance to say goodbye.
As I left the hospital in a daze, a fresh post from his assistant appeared on my feed,
Chloe Davenport: [I sprained my ankle and my generous boss not only personally took me to the hospital but also sent me a set of large flats as compensation!]
The photo she shared told the rest of the story—stockings and lingerie were thrown all over the floor and the window glass reflection clearly showed the naked back of Mark.
I took a deep breath, canceled the wedding plans and booked a one-way ticket out of town. No matter how much Mark would beg, I promised myself I would not look back this time.
***
Just after successfully purchasing the ticket, my phone rang.
"Rachel Summers, what did you do to spend so much money at once? Do you think my money came from the wind? I think you don't want to get married!"
I calmly listened to Mark's accusations without the slightest fluctuation in my heart. After eight years together, I was exhausted from his constant games—dangled promises of marriage to keep me by his side. He cheated me to forgo graduate school and follow him to a strange city. He lied to me to take out my savings, start a business with him and support him. He even persuaded me to quit my job so I could stay home and 'focus on being his future wife'.
Just a few months ago, he'd dangled the marriage carrot again, claiming we should look for a place together. So, I threw myself into finding the perfect home, scouting every neighborhood until I found the suitable one.
It turned out that "the wedding house" was actually his gift to his assistant, Chloe Davenport—a sleek, high-rise penthouse worth millions. He had handed it over without a second thought. Meanwhile, the price of a mere plane ticket was enough to make him blow up at me.
Sighing, I finally said, "You're right—I don't want to get married. Let's break up."
He paused, caught off guard, before sneering, "Oh, learned how to play games with me, huh?" His tone grew darker, laced with venom. "Think about it—who's been keeping you afloat all this time? When you leave me, who else would want you after five years of being used?"
His words cut like a knife, but they didn't sting like they used to. The heartbreak, the fear, the nights spent apologizing—those feelings had numbed. Mom's passing had snapped me out of the fog, forcing me to see Mark for who he truly was.
"We've been together for eight years," I reminded him quietly.
Eight years of my youth were wasted on empty promises. If, in the past, I had been sad, I would have been afraid and I would have cried and apologized. But now, my heart is like a piece of dehydrated, frozen meat, numb to the knife.
'How could a man who hadn't been willing to give me a name for eight years truly want to marry me?'
I hung up, hailed a cab and went home to pack. Halfway through packing, I realized I didn't have much to gather. Mark had to go out to socialize; his suit and shirt hung all over the closet, while my side held only a few old pieces.
While I was lost in thought, Mark stormed in and pushed the door open.
"What are you doing standing around like that?" he demanded. "This place is a mess! Are you just only going to stand there?"
I was holding a sweater my mom had knit me years ago. A few silent tears began to fall. Mark extended his hand to shove me, but he paused when he saw the tears on my face. "Come on, there's no need for all that just because I gave you a little feedback. Is it necessary to cry like this?"
"Chloe's injury happened on the job," he went on, matter-of-factly, "and as her boss, it's my duty to show a little concern."
His voice softened only slightly. "You're going to be the boss's wife soon. Surely, you can't let yourself get jealous over a newbie like her."
And with that, he walked past me, acting like everything was perfectly normal.
第2章
Work? The image of that torn stocking in the photo flashed in my mind. So that was where they were "working" together—right on the bed. I could only imagine how wild it must've gotten if it landed them both in the hospital.
I pulled away in disgust when Mark tried to touch my shoulder. He frowned and threw a secondary bank card at my face.
"Enough already. I've unfrozen your card. Now get back to wedding planning and stop with this nonsense."
Just hours ago, this card could have saved my mother's life. But now, like the eight years I'd spent with him, it was worthless. I opened my mouth to respond, but his phone rang.
Chloe's sugary voice came through loud and clear through the speaker, "Mark, that lotus leaf chicken soup you made was delicious! Will you come over and make it again?"
He glanced at me, then took his phone out to the balcony. His voice softened, a tenderness I'd never heard before. I could make out, "Okay, baby… sure, sweetie," and other unfamiliar words came over one after another.
He returned only long enough to remind me to clean the house and press his suit for tomorrow. Then, he left.
In eight years, he'd stepped into the kitchen just once, only to shatter all the dishes and nearly start a fire. That disaster meant I cooked every meal for eight years. Only now did I find out through another woman that he could actually cook—and even well—just not for me.
I brushed away tears and picked up the card he'd thrown. Eight years ago, I'd moved to this unfamiliar city for him, supporting him with all my savings, driven by love and the hope of paying for my mom's treatments. Now, love was gone and so was my mom. I had no reason to stay. There was nothing left for me here.
***
With a simple wrap on my injured foot, I went to register my mother's passing. My mother, once so full of life, was now reduced to a slip of paper, pressing on me like a weight I could barely hold. After scheduling her cremation tomorrow, I returned to sort through her belongings, my heart breaking with each piece.
Late in the evening, at the bottom of a box, I stumbled on a rough sketch of a wedding venue—one Mark had once made. I froze, remembering that early year we were together, clinging to each other with a promise that someday, he'd make something of himself.
He had held my hand in front of my mom and vowed, "Rachel, one day I will succeed. I'll give you the grandest wedding. I'll use everything I have to make up for every struggle you have been through all these years."
In order to prove his heart, he stayed up all night and drew this sketch with one stroke according to my preference.
Funny how time blurs even the most solemn promises, how new love erases the old. I was about to toss everything into the trash when Mark walked in. When he saw that I wasn't cooking, his expression was a bit unhappy. He mockingly laughed after looking down and seeing the wedding sketches in my hands.
"This is the tacky nonsense you came up with after a whole day?" he scoffed. "It's ugly and outdated—just like you. I wouldn't mind if I were stingy, but stop embarrassing me with your penny-pinching. Honestly, I should have Chloe handle the choices. Her taste is way better than yours."
He had forgotten our promises and discarded the memories. Without a word, I tossed the sketch—and, with it, every remaining piece of our past—into the trash.
第3章
Mark looked at me with a frown. "Still angry, huh?" He exhaled as if offering the final solution to my ungrateful mood. "Fine, I've already contacted an overseas specialist to treat your mom's stroke. Maybe she'll be well enough to join our wedding." Then, with a surprising touch of condescension, he reached out and patted my head the same way he petted Chloe. "Happy now?"
My stomach turned. His lie was as obvious as revolting and I had no energy to confront it. Instead, I turned away, letting the tears fall in silence.
When I didn't respond, he grew impatient. He shoved me, his tone rough. "Did you hear me? Don't look at me like that! You're lucky I'm even trying to be nice. What good are you if you're just bitter all the time? Nowhere is better than Chloe and you have a foul temper, you deserve to be unpopular wherever you go."
My injured foot hit the edge of the coffee table, reopening the cuts, but he didn't even glance back before slamming the door on his way out.
This was his favorite game, his go-to routine for control as tearing me down with insults, cutting me off financially, freezing me out until I cracked until I was crawling back to him, blaming myself and begging for forgiveness. I'd knelt, apologized and even slapped myself to make him stay in the past. But no more. This time, he'd only come back to an empty apartment.
I packed only what he hated—the things he called ugly, tacky. His couple's mugs, my "cheap" sweaters. Then, I used his credit card to book a room at a nearby hotel.
Later that night, after a shower and a moment of calm, I saw Chloe's new social media post: she was flaunting a huge diamond ring.
Chloe: [Happy Anniversary!] the caption read.
Chloe: [Only the dumbest woman would fail to see how amazing this man is.]
Mark knew Chloe's birthdays, anniversaries—even her cycle. But somehow, he had forgotten that today was my birthday, too. Every year, whenever I would suggest celebrating, he would wave me off.
"Rachel, do you even know what it takes to make money? Why waste it on these things? Do you even want to marry me or not?"
I believed him. I would put my life on hold for eight years, sacrificing everything for him. In the end, he had left me with nothing, not even dignity.
I blocked Chloe. If she wanted him, she could have him. I was finally done.
***
The next morning, I woke to my phone vibrating, Mark’s name lighting up the screen. I ignored it, but his voice echoed in my head. "Where did you go this time? Do you think you are still twenty, running off like this? You are nearly thirty, Rachel! And what's with the blood on the carpet? Do you know that's a custom-imported carpet Chloe picked out herself? It cost over two hundred thousand dollars ……!"
I hung up. He had not noticed that I had packed up my life and had not even asked why I was bleeding. To him, as long as it was related to Chloe and what she liked, it was worth more than me—or my mother's life.
If it was me a day ago, I would have blamed myself for those words and tried to find a way to apologize to Mark. But that version was gone.
第4章
But now, I had far too much on my mind to waste more emotions on Mark. I glanced at the time, grabbed my things and headed to the mall to buy a new suitcase. After wandering around a bit, I picked out a pink one—the color Mom had always loved.
I suddenly heard a familiar voice while dragging the suitcase to prepare for the crematorium.
"Mark, my foot hurts so much…"
I looked up and saw Mark, with Chloe in his arms. He was gently rubbing her nose before lifting her up effortlessly, all under the curious gazes of bystanders.
I froze in place and suddenly, a memory hit me—the day I begged Mark to go with me to the hospital. Back then, he had been impatient just because of a single word of urgency, shoving me out of the car when I was still pleading. I had fallen, bloodied and in pain. I was unable to get up and wanted him to help me.
"You're not young anymore," he had said coldly, watching me struggle. "Stop pretending. No matter how pathetic you look, I'm not giving you a single penny."
"Chloe is waiting for me," he continued. "When you learn to be as well-behaved and understanding as her, you can ask me for things."
His harsh words and indifferent departure still stung, but now, watching him tenderly care for Chloe, it was like seeing two completely different people.
I clenched my teeth and tried to walk away, but Mark called out to me. He reluctantly set Chloe down.
"So, you're spying on me now?" he asked, his voice tinged with guilt. He then noticed the suitcase in my hand and sneered.
"You spend money like it's nothing. I never promised you a honeymoon trip. Why would someone like you need a suitcase anyway? You never leave the house. Always wasting money on nonsense."
Before I met Mark, I had loved to travel. I had explored half the country by myself. But after I met him, I spent all my money supporting his business ventures. Once his company became successful, he started taking Chloe on exciting trips while I was stuck at home, always in the kitchen.
I am so tired of living like this.
Ignoring his anger, I spoke coldly, "If I want to buy it, I can buy it. Your money is half mine."
I had invested half a million dollars in his business. Two hundred thousand of that had been my mother's savings, money she had put aside as my dowry. Eight years of my life were wasted. But now, I wanted that money back. I needed it to give my mother a proper farewell, to ensure her dignity in death.
"Rachel, you are so shameless," Mark spat, smashing a pendant for dispensing in my face. Then he grabbed Chloe's platinum bag, flaunting it in front of me. "Do you really think I am poor with this amount of money?"
"I am not stingy," he sneered. "You just don't deserve it!"
He raised his voice, drawing the attention of passersby. "There are so many things to do for the company. I will spend money on Chloe because she is worth it. She deserves my appreciation for her hard work. But you? You are useless. Always lazy, always causing trouble. You can't even handle the simplest things. All you know is to fight over jealousy and disgrace people!"
I pressed my hand to my forehead, feeling the warm trickle of blood from where the pendant had hit me.
My silence seemed to make Mark think I was once again backing down. He softened his tone.
"Fine, fine. You can buy it. Just stop playing the victim. I am not that bad and not short of money. I'm happy to spend it on the wedding. As long as you well-behave, I won't…"
But then, out of nowhere, Chloe burst into tears.
第5章
"Mark, everyone's staring at me. Do you think your sister hates me? Is she trying to embarrass me?"
The whispers around us grew louder. Mark was afraid that Chloe would be upset. He glanced my way, but rather than confronting me, he comforted Chloe, protectively guiding her away. I was left standing alone, facing the crowd's judgmental stares.
I looked down at the shattered trinket on the ground. It is such a small thing, yet it costs thousands. Mark certainly wasn't lacking in wealth. He would use it to shower Chloe with gifts, flaunt a grand wedding and boost his image—but spending it on me? That, he would never do. He thought I wasn't worth it and unnecessary.
Years ago, I had loved Mark deeply. A hollow promise or a cheap gift was all it took to make me stay. But now, it wouldn't happen again.
I wiped the blood from my face, feeling nothing and maxed out his credit card.
***
I spent the money for our wedding venue on a luxurious plot in Mom's hometown cemetery. I bought the finest urn for her ashes with the funds for wedding photos. When I was ready to go back to the hotel, I realized I had left something at Mark's office, so I detoured to pick it up.
Chloe has sidelined the colleague who used to befriend me as a receptionist. The new receptionist deliberately made things difficult, asking me to prove my identity.
"Can you prove you belong here?" she sneered.
I searched my bag, realizing I didn't have a single photo of me and Mark together. She rolled her eyes.
"People like you think you can just show up? Everyone knows Mr. Caldwell only cares about Chloe."
I didn't need her to tell me that; the lobby walls were already plastered with pictures of them together. I was about to call him when Mark appeared, irritation plain on his face.
"What are you here for now?" he demanded.
"My mother's peace charm," I replied evenly. Mom, despite her illness, had gone out of her way to get it blessed, hoping Mark and I would live a life she couldn't—a life full of love, free from bitterness. It's a pity. Mark doesn't deserve my love, nor does he deserve Mom's expectations.
Chloe smirked. "Mark didn't need that tacky old thing. I threw it out ages ago. Why don't you try upgrading your taste, sister? Here, I will give you this necklace. Mark bought me plenty and I am sure you have never worn anything like it."
I couldn't bear it and raised my hand to slap Chloe. But before I could do it, in the next instant, I felt a searing pain as my head hit the edge of a desk. Everything spun and I barely registered that Mark was gripping my hair, forcing me to apologize to her.
Pain engulfed me. My suitcase slipped from my hand, spilling open on the floor. Before I could react, Chloe snatched up the urn inside.
"Oh, what's this? It's so pretty. Mark, can I keep this box?"
"Don't touch my things!" I lunged, trying to grab it back, but the pain was overwhelming and I collapsed to the floor. Chloe looked down at me and then, with a twisted smile, hurled the urn to the ground.
As the urn shattered, my heart into pieces. "Mark, that was my mother's ashes," I choked out. "Do you remember your promise to her? The one where you swore to marry me in honor and give me a good life?"
He had once vowed to be my protector, treat me well and cherish our love. All lies.
第6章
He used shitty lies. It cheated me out of all of my love, my mother's savings and even her peace after death. Mark's face went blank when I confronted him with the truth.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Your mother's fine; there's no way she's dead."
Chloe kicked at the broken urn on the ground, pouting. "Who'd believe that? Would you be happy and planning a wedding if your mother had just passed?"
Mark's expression darkened immediately.
"Rachel, can't you come up with a better excuse? One moment, your mom's sick; the next, she's dead. Do you think everyone's as brainless as you are?"
He stepped around me with disdain, taking Chloe's hand. "Don't worry," he whispered to her, "I'll take you to the hospital right now. This madwoman won't get away with this."
The receptionist and a few of Chloe's friends had their phones out, recording with smirks on their faces. But I couldn't hear their words. I was numb, kneeling on the floor, gently gathering Mom's ashes back into the suitcase. I wanted to hurry to take my mom out of this dirty place, away from people who would only disrespect her.
When I returned to the hotel, a message from Mark was waiting on my phone.
Mark: [We're getting married soon, so I'll let it go if you apologize to Chloe. Just kneel, apologize and I won't hold it against you.]
Even now, he thought I was desperate to marry him. I blocked his number, wiped my tears and checked the time. With Mom by my side, I boarded a plane, never looking back.