How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 896

Fleming Mercer stood in the hallway for a long time, staring at the operating room doors.

He knew Lucy’s condition wasn’t actually that serious.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he finally checked the time on his watch, a jolt of panic hitting him as he turned and sprinted downstairs.

Following the direction Lucy had thrown his phone, he found it resting under a bush near the window.

He unlocked the screen.

There were missed calls from his father and from Adrian.

But there was absolutely nothing from Esmeralda.

He had expected her name to flood his notifications.

The unusual silence made his brow furrow, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, jumping into his car and speeding toward the wedding venue.

According to the schedule, even if the groom was a little late, the ceremony would proceed as planned; the guests would still be there, and he still had time.

With that thought anchoring him, he slammed his foot on the gas.

He was usually a steady, cautious man who never sped no matter the emergency, but today, driven by guilt toward Esmeralda and a frantic sense of urgency, he drove recklessly, narrowly missing several collisions.

If it weren't for his sharp reflexes, he would have wrecked the car multiple times over.

He just needed to get back to her, faster.

He managed to compress a thirty-minute drive into just over ten.

When he pulled up to the venue.

The soft notes of a piano drifted through the air, perfectly on schedule.

Luxury cars were still parked neatly in their designated spots.

Everything seemed to be proceeding normally.

A wave of inexplicable relief washed over him; he hadn't even realized how tense he was until he stepped out of the car, his forehead slick with a cold sweat.

He sprinted toward the entrance, his long legs eating up the distance.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He was getting married.

He was finally going to settle down.

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