Chris parked his car and stepped out, his grip tightening around the door handle for a second before he slammed it shut. His eyes locked onto the hospital in front of him, a storm brewing in his chest.

Vincent had to have told her everything.

"Let's go and check," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched as he strode inside.

He moved swiftly, his footsteps heavy against the pristine floor as he headed toward Vincent's allocated room. The anticipation coiled in his stomach like a snake, waiting to strike. But as he reached the room, his movements stilled.

The room was empty.

Chris blinked. His breath came slow and deep before a smirk tugged at his lips.

So, he really told her?

Hazel must be free now. Out of whatever spell Vincent had cast on her. Just the thought sent a strange satisfaction coursing through him. His eyes gleamed as he turned to leave.

A doctor passed by, and Chris acted on impulse. He needed answers.

"Excuse me," his voice was controlled, but sharp. "The patient from this room-when was he discharged?"

"Early this morning," the doctor replied casually.

Chris barely reacted, but his mind was already racing. She must be in pain. I should be there for her. I should comfort her.

But before he could think further, the doctor's next words knocked the air out of his lungs.

"I'm glad they finally got together."

Chris's smirk vanished instantly. His fingers twitched at his sides.

His voice dropped, dangerously low. "What do you mean?"

The doctor smiled, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. "The girl finally accepted that she loves him. He succeeded in his plan."

Chris felt something snap inside him. "What?"

"You should've been here. After all those days you stayed around, you missed such a romantic moment." The doctor chuckled. "We even got a video of them. Wanna see?"

Chris didn't move. His entire body had gone rigid, his pulse hammering violently in his ears. But the doctor had already pulled out his phone and pressed play.

Chris's jaw locked as the screen lit up with the video.

Vincent was on one knee, his eyes holding nothing but devotion.

"Be my girlfriend... and when you're ready, be my wife."

Hazel stood there, her breath shaky, her lips parted as if words had failed her.

Chris held his breath. Say no, Hazel. Say no.

But then-she nodded.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she was smiling.

Chris felt his fingers go numb.

Vincent slipped the ring onto her hand before standing up and pulling her into a tight embrace. And Hazel-she clung to him, burying her face in his chest as though she belonged there.

"I love you," Vincent whispered, his voice dripping with warmth.

And then Hazel, the same girl who had looked Chris in the eyes and said she didn't love Vincent, smiled through her tears.

"I love you too."

The hospital staff erupted into cheers, clapping and congratulating them as Vincent kissed Hazel's forehead.

The video ended.

Chris's blood ran ice-cold. His hands had turned into fists so tight that his nails bit into his palms.

"Isn't it so romantic?" the doctor sighed, still caught up in the moment.

Chris didn't answer. His throat burned. His chest felt tight, like a noose had wrapped around it.

His surroundings blurred. The walls, the voices, the bright hospital lights-it all faded.

Only one thing remained.

Hazel's voice. Her words.

"I love you too."

Chris's breathing turned heavy, uneven. His entire body was rigid, his muscles straining under the weight of his fury.

A nurse called for the doctor, and he excused himself, leaving Chris standing there-boiling.

His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. His fists trembled at his sides, his nails threatening to break skin.

You lied to me, Hazel.

You said you didn't love him!

His vision blurred, not from pain-but from sheer, unfiltered rage.

***
"Yeah, place that in the center," he ordered the waiter, adjusting his cuff as he surveyed the setup.

"Bring more flowers," he added, his voice firm but not impatient.

"Sure, sir," the waiter responded promptly.

"And bring the cocktail too," he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the table.

"Sure," the waiter nodded.

"Oh, wait-she doesn't drink. Just bring the juice and leave the cocktail," Vincent corrected himself, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Understood, sir," the waiter said before walking away.

Vincent glanced at his watch. "It's time," he murmured to himself. "I should go now to bring her."

He let his eyes sweep across the venue, taking in every detail-the soft candlelight, the carefully arranged flowers, the ambiance crafted to perfection.

"Perfect," he muttered, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

***

Hazel sat in her room, enveloped in a sea of red silk that draped her body like a dream. The off-shoulder gown hugged her slender waist before flowing down in elegant waves, pooling around her feet. A soft slit ran along the side, revealing just a hint of her leg when she moved, adding an understated allure. The fabric felt smooth against her skin, its coolness sending a shiver down her spine.

Vincent had sent her this dress. The thought alone made her heart flutter.

She sat before the mirror, giving the final touch-up to her makeup. A light stroke of blush graced her cheeks, a hint of highlighter shimmered on her collarbones, and her lips were painted a soft, rosy shade. Simple. Elegant. Just the way she liked it.

Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, a few strands framing her face. Small diamond earrings adorned her ears, catching the light whenever she moved. But the real star was the ring on her finger-the heart-shaped diamond gleamed under the glow of her vanity lights. The thin white-gold band fit her perfectly, delicate and timeless, just as she had always imagined. She twisted it gently, feeling its weight-light, yet significant.

Her heart pounded.

I don't even remember the last time I dreamt of this day... she thought, staring at her reflection.

A slow, breathless smile curved her lips.

Dreams really do come true. I always wanted to date Vincent, and today, it's finally happening-our first date.

She exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest, trying to calm the nervous flutter in her heart. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, excitement and anxiety twining together.

Her fingers traced the diamond on her ring, and warmth spread through her chest as she recalled how Vincent had slipped it onto her finger. The intensity in his eyes, the raw sincerity in his voice-it all came rushing back.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relive that moment.

Flashback::

"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vincent squeezed her hands tightly. "You don't have to be," he promised, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Not as long as I'm here."

"Thank you, Vincent," she murmured, her words laced with sincerity.

"Don't be," he said, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a silent reassurance.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken emotions settling between them.

Then, Vincent sighed, his lips curving into a playful smirk. "Should I drop the act of being sick now?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, right," she said, shaking her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

"But my mission is still incomplete," he added, his voice laced with mischief.

She frowned. "Mission?"

He leaned in slightly, his expression turning serious. "I did all this just to hear you say that you have feelings for me-just like I do for you."

Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she couldn't find the words. She shook her head, exhaling a soft laugh, trying to cover up the warmth creeping into her cheeks. "Let's go now," she said, standing up.

"Do we still need to prepare your discharge papers?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Who knows?" he smirked, making her roll her eyes.

"I'll go and ask," she said, quickly went out, she was walking toward the reception.

Just brfore she reached, a firm yet gentle grip wrapped around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Her breath hitched as she turned around.

Vincent stood behind her, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

She frowned slightly. "What-"

"Don't push it away anymore," he interrupted, his voice low, firm, yet filled with an unmistakable plea.

Her chest tightened. The air between them felt heavier, charged with emotions she had tried so hard to ignore.

"I know," he said softly.

And in that moment, she knew too. There was no denying it anymore.

"I know you love me too," Vincent murmured, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. "I've always known."

"Vincent, I-" Hazel hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"If it's because of Chris, don't be afraid," he interrupted gently. "I would never let him hurt you. But don't deny your feelings anymore."

Before she could respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Her breath caught as he slowly sank down on one knee, his eyes never leaving hers.

The entire world seemed to pause. The steady hum of the hospital faded into the background as if this moment belonged to just the two of them.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, his voice low, sincere. "And if possible... soon after, my wife?"

Hazel stared at him . Her hands covered her mouth as emotions swirled inside her-shock, happiness, disbelief.

Vincent smiled softly. "Hmm?" he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she gave a small, choked nod. "Yes," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Yes!"

The moment the words left her lips, the hospital staff-nurses, doctors, even patients-erupted into cheers, clapping and celebrating their beautiful moment. The sound of joy filled the air, but all Hazel could see was Vincent.

He stood up, slipping the ring onto her finger with utmost tenderness.

"I love you," Vincent whispered, his voice like a promise, filled with warmth and devotion.

Hazel, the same girl who once looked Chris in the eyes and denied her love for Vincent, smiled through her tears.

"I love you too," she breathed.

The hospital staff cheered louder, their claps echoing around them. But Vincent didn't care-his world existed in Hazel's eyes.

With a soft, loving gaze, he cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, sealing the moment that would forever belong to them.

End of Flashback

A warm smile crept onto her face as she recalled the moment, the memory wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Excitement surged through her, but so did nervousness, intertwining like two opposing forces.

He must be here.

She stood up, smoothing down her dress, and took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her heart was racing, her fingers trembling slightly as she exhaled, trying to shake off the nerves.

I hope everything goes well.

The doorbell rang again, this time with more urgency.

"Coming!" she called out, grabbing her things before heading toward the door.

But as she stepped closer, the ringing grew more frequent-more desperate.

Her brows furrowed.

"Wait, Vincent! I'm coming!" she said, quickening her pace.

But the bell didn't stop. It kept ringing, the sound sharp, relentless. It sent an uneasy feeling crawling up her spine.

She reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

"Calm do-"

The words died in her throat. The smile that had begun to form vanished in an instant.

It wasn't Vincent standing in front of her.

It was him.

Chris.

His face was void of warmth, his dark eyes burning with unfiltered rage.

Her breath hitched.

He stepped forward. Instinctively, she took a step back.

The air between them crackled with tension, thick and suffocating.

"How dare you?" he said, his voice dangerously low, dripping with venom.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

"Chris..." she whispered, dread coiling in her stomach.

His jaw clenched. His fists tightened at his sides.

And then, he took another step forward.

To be continued...