Even when I was grieving, Eugene managed all of Sharon’s funeral arrangements by himself.
The only request he made was to ensure she wasn’t buried in some random cemetery. He mentioned that the Cook family estate had a private burial plot with an open space and suggested she could be laid to rest there.
Of course, I readily agreed and even considerately asked if he wanted to postpone our wedding.
And what did he say to that?
He held my hand, gazing at me with a look of deep affection, and said, “Opal, marrying you is my greatest dream. You wouldn’t let someone insignificant stand in the way of that, would you?”
But later, I discovered the truth. It was because of that “insignificant” person that he rushed to marry me—just to torment me. To make me spend the rest of my life atoning for Sharon’s death.
But back then, was it me who forced him to make that choice?
Did I insist he choose me?
No.
So how was her death my fault?
This time, I decided to give the chance of survival to the person he loved most. He should be grateful to me for it.
