ManyWriters

When Dashiell, for the seventh time, feigned amnesia to break off our engagement and travel the world with his little childhood sweetheart,
I was exhausted, and weary.
In the video, he was passionately kissing his little childhood sweetheart on a cruise ship.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number that had been waiting, "Dad, I agree to the arranged marriage."
A billion-dollar dowry instantly hit my account.
On the day of my wedding, Dashiell happened to call, "Darling, I've regained my memory. Will you marry me?"
"This time, I absolutely won't leave you again."
I told him to look up, where I stood in a pristine white wedding gown, arm-in-arm with my new groom, smiling down at him.

Jilted Seven Times on the Wedding

Dashiell's persistence exceeded my wildest imagination. He would camp out at the company, and as soon as I arrived, he'd plaster on a smile and cling to me, calling me "darling." Even after being pulled away by my assistant, he'd throw his weight around as a company shareholder.


During meetings, he'd barge into the conference room, drag a chair over, and sit right next to me. At client dinners, he'd crash the party and try to cleverly intercept drinks on my behalf.


He even tailed my car all the way into my neighborhood. When stopped by security, he got into a scuffle and ended up pinned to the ground.


I looked down at Dashiell with disdain. "Why bother? You know perfectly well we don't have a chance anymore."


"I don't believe it, Juniper. I don't believe you truly don't love me," Dashiell said through gritted teeth, his head held high.


His stubborn demeanor only irritated me further.


Chapter 12