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

As we approached our turn, Fintan burst into the lobby.


He ran over and fell to his knees, pleading with me: "Scarlett, I really can't live without you. Please don't marry him. Can you give me one more chance?"


Then, he pulled out a knife from his jacket and looked up at me hopefully: "I'll give you my kidney back, okay? I'll give you my kidney - both of them."


"I'll give you anything you want, as long as you come back to me."


The people nearby screamed and backed away, frightened by his actions.


Dashiell stood protectively in front of me, not letting him get close.


I sighed: "Fintan, when will you ever grow up?"


"What would I do with your kidney? Do you think if you take out your kidney, the one stolen from my body will magically reappear intact?"


"I got home earlier than you on our anniversary. I heard all those disgusting things you said about me. I've also seen your chat history with Callie."


Hearing this, the last bit of color drained from Fintan's face.


Chapter 11