His First Love Got My Heart - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

The question haunted Chase like a ghost—where had everything gone wrong?
Was it the moment he pushed Grace's love away? Or was it when he selfishly clung to her just to numb the ache in his chest? Three years of dating, one year of marriage—he couldn't pretend there had been nothing between them. He'd seen Grace at her weakest, her brightest, even her messiest.
Fragile as she was, she had always smiled at him like sunlight breaking through clouds.
When late-night surgeries kept him at the hospital, Grace would wait up, packing snacks to keep him going. She knew his neck would stiffen from hours bent over patients, so she'd knead the tension away before bed. Thunderstorms terrified her, and no matter how drained Chase was, he'd race home just to hold her through the storm.
Now, looking back, he saw how much she'd given him. But had he ever truly loved her? Or had he just clung to her out of guilt? Even when Grace was in his arms, it was Grace he had to imagine just to keep going. Not love—just a hollow, desperate attempt to fill the emptiness inside.
He'd once thought sacrificing his life for her would make things right. But what good was his life when his heart had never been hers to begin with?
Chase clenched his wedding ring until his knuckles turned white, tears blurring his vision.
"Chase, do you really want to marry me? To stay with me forever?" Grace's voice echoed in his mind, her smile soft, her eyes too knowing.
A tear slipped free as he whispered into the silence, "I do. But Grace… would you still say yes?"
After the baby was born, Adam took a job in Canada—close enough to help, far enough to give me space.
Watching him shift from doctor mode to cradling our child in his arms softened the edges of his usual stoicism. Life was finding its rhythm. But I couldn't lean on him forever.
Quietly, I started job hunting—English teaching didn't pay much, but it was something. I kept it to myself, but Adam noticed when I began browsing apartments.
One night, after putting the baby down, he cornered me in the kitchen.
"Am I not enough?" His voice was quiet, rough with something raw. "Why do you still keep me at arm's length?"
I stiffened. "Are you sick? Let me get you—"
Before I could move, he pulled me against him. His breath warmed my ear, sending my pulse skittering.
"Don't you get it yet?" he murmured.
"Get what?"
Adam let me go just enough to reach into his pocket—then pressed a hairpin into my palm.
It looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Gently, he tucked it into my hair, fingers lingering against my cheek.
"Just as beautiful as the day I first saw you. Six years ago."
It had been a summer afternoon. After yet another rejection from Chase, I'd fled to the grove, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. My makeup was ruined, my pride in tatters.
"You're disturbing my studying. Stop crying."
Blinded by frustration, I shoved the stranger off his bench. "Scum! Why can't you see me? I'm smart, I'm beautiful—are you even worthy of me?"
The words spilled out, sharp and reckless. I barely registered the stunned look on the boy's face before storming off.
The next morning, I woke to a spotless apartment, breakfast waiting on the table. Adam's handwriting curled across a note, tiny hearts framing the words:
[Remember to eat.]
Sipping my tea, I felt something inside me loosen—just a little.
He proposed on another summer afternoon, sunlight dappling through the trees. No grand speech, no hesitation—just a ring and a quiet certainty as he slid it onto my finger.
This time, when the words came, we said them together.
"I do."
(The End)