ManyWriters

On our fifth anniversary, Fintan was planning to propose to me.
I was waiting excitedly in the bedroom while they set up, when I overheard Fintan's resigned tone:
"Now whenever I think about her hands preparing all those bodies, I feel sick."
"But I have to marry her. I owe her that much."
How laughable.
Seven years ago, at his father's funeral, he couldn't stop thanking me for giving his father a final moment of dignity.
Five years ago, he passionately kissed my fingertips as he professed his love, swearing he'd never be repulsed by me.
If you don't love me, then get lost.

The Groom-to-Be Despises My Job as a Mortician

Callie, Quint and their father were both taken away, and Fintan, who was protecting Callie from being taken by the police, was also taken away.


However, he was released after just a couple of days because there was no evidence to prove he had any direct connection to the incident.


As soon as Fintan got out, he immediately came to find me. He pulled out a voluntary donation agreement for me to sign, which I tore to pieces and threw in his face.


Fintan's forehead veins bulged as he looked at me like I was an unreasonable child throwing a tantrum.


"What do you want? It's just a kidney! It won't have that big of an impact on you. Don't you know Callie will die without that kidney?"


After saying this, he pulled out another agreement and a marriage license application, grabbing my hand with a sincere expression:


"Scarlett, if you just sign this agreement, we'll get married right away. I promise I'll treat you well for the rest of our lives."


Chapter 8