I stared in shock at the slightly deranged Ethan. Around me the ceaseless accusations and insults from the crowd threatened to crush me.
My head buzzed loudly as I swayed backward and nearly collapsed, but strong hands that were firm and steady caught me.
It was Ryan. He stepped in front of me and, without hesitation, kicked Ethan in the chest.
“Stop harassing her,” said Ryan.
Ethan’s face twisted with rage and he looked ready to fight back. However, when his eyes landed on Ryan, he froze.
I guessed it was because Ryan resembled him.
Ethan’s voice trembled as he asked, “Were you adopted by the Young family when you were three?”
Ryan glared at him, shielding me protectively. “So what if I was? What’s it to you?”
Ryan then sneered, “Do you think you’re still a man? Dragging a banner through town to humiliate Claire? You’re disgusting.”
Ethan’s red–rimmed eyes fixated on Ryan. Then, his gaze shifted down to the scar on Ryan’s exposed forearm that was about three centimeters long. He staggered back as though struck. He turned slowly to me, saying hoarsely, Is he your fiance? Is he the one marrying you tomorrow?”
I nodded.
Ethan suddenly let out a heart–wrenching sob. His hands covered his face as waves of regret and despair washed `over him. He dismissed the crowd with a wave of his hand with palpable sorrow.
After a long pause, he looked at me and Ryan one last time.
