My Wedding, My Ex-Husband's Funeral

In the fifth year of our marriage, Carter McGregor, my husband, and his 'adoptive sister' made their relationship public at a party:

[True lovers finally unite...]

Our mutual friends snapped a picture of them toasting with a cup of wine and posted it online.

Without thinking, I liked it and added a comment:

[Respect, blessings, and tie the knot.]

Almost immediately, my phone rang. Carter’s name flashed on the screen, and his voice was sharp with anger.

“You’re jealous,” he spat. “You’re embarrassing me.”

In the background, I could hear Kierra’s sweet voice asking me, “Sis, you’re upset, are you?”

A few years ago, I would’ve flooded Carter with calls and texts, demanding an explanation, insisting he come home immediately. But now? Now, I was just… tired.

I didn’t want to fight anymore. I simply didn’t care.

——

When Carter finally stumbled in, I was in the middle of cleaning up the romantic dinner I’d spent all day preparing.

The table I’d painstakingly arranged was still covered in red wine stains, melted candles, and all the dishes I’d lovingly cooked.

Tonight was supposed to be our fifth wedding anniversary.

In the past, no matter how busy Carter was, he’d always make sure to spend this day with me.

But this year?

This year, for the first time, he hadn’t come home, called, or even sent me a text to explain himself.

And I knew exactly why.

Kierra, his "adoptive sister," had come back from studying abroad.

She’d been back for three months, and everything between Carter and me had shifted ever since then.

She’d joined his company right after she returned, and suddenly, I was competing for his attention with her.

Our arguments became more frequent. Carter was always away on business trips or staying late at work with Kierra—sometimes not coming home at all.

Every time, the excuse was the same: "Work."

I had a feeling this year’s anniversary would pass unnoticed, but just two days ago, Carter surprised me.

He told me we had to celebrate it properly. Unlike the other years when we’d go out, he wanted it to be just the two of us at home this time.

I was over the moon. It felt like the first real, meaningful conversation we’d had in months.

So, I spent the entire day preparing a special dinner. I made all of Carter’s favorite dishes, bought his favorite wine, and set up candles. I even filled the house with fresh flowers.

I wore a dress, hoping this would be a night to remember.

But by 8 PM, Carter still hadn’t come home. I started to worry, and then I saw a post from Ronald, one of Carter’s close friends. He shared a picture of Carter and Kierra, glasses raised in a toast, celebrating together.

The caption read: [True lovers finally unite...]

I stared at the post, my heart sinking as our mutual friends liked and commented. Some even congratulated them. The excitement I had felt earlier drained away, leaving a cold, heavy feeling in my chest.

I clicked the like button, then left a comment: [Respect, blessings, and seal the deal.]

But when I refreshed the page, the post was gone.

And just like that, Carter’s phone rang.

“Nadine, what the hell is your problem now? Why are you acting so jealous? How many times do I have to tell you that Kierra is just like a sister to me!”

I could hear Kierra’s voice in the background, sweet as ever. “Sis, you’re upset, are you?”

I didn’t say another word. I just hung up. I didn’t want to argue anymore. Instead, I turned back to the dinner I had carefully prepared, now feeling completely pathetic as I started cleaning up.

By the time I finished clearing most of the food away, all that was left were the cold, uneaten dishes.

That’s when Carter finally walked in.

He stumbled through the door, smelling of booze. I didn’t even look up. I kept throwing the leftover food into the trash and loading the dirty plates into the dishwasher.

"Why didn’t you wait for me?" Carter asked casually, walking over.

He tossed the dessert I’d made into the trash without even a second thought, then shrugged. “Today’s the first time in three months that Kierra finished a big medical project since coming back to San Francisco. Everyone’s celebrating, and since I’m the CEO and her older brother, I couldn’t just not show up.”

Chapter 2

If this were three months ago, before Kierra came back, there’s no way Carter would have made me wait like this. No matter how big a project his company closed, he would never have ignored me—no calls, no texts, no nothing.

But now? Now, everything’s changed.

Whenever Kierra’s around, it’s like I’m invisible. He picks fights over the smallest things, gives me the cold shoulder, and now? Now, he’s out drinking wine, celebrating with her, without thinking about how I feel.

And honestly, I’m done. I don’t want to talk to him anymore.

When Carter realized I wasn’t clinging to him or being cute like I used to, he pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to me with a casual shrug.

"This is for you. Open it. See if you like it."

Inside was a snowflake necklace studded with tiny diamonds. A snowflake.

I hated it.

Carter knew I couldn’t stand anything to do with snow. In the past, whenever it was my birthday, our anniversary, or even just a random occasion, he always got me things I loved. But ever since Kierra came back, he tried to make up with gifts every time we fought.

And every single time, they involved snow.

The first few times, I bit my tongue.

But tonight? Tonight, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I grabbed the necklace from his hand and tossed it straight into the trash.

And I didn’t hold back when I said it—loud enough for him to hear. "Carter, I hate snow the most."

He looked stunned, clearly thinking I was being ungrateful. His "humble gesture" of buying me gifts was clearly misunderstood.

Anger flashed across his face. He threw the box in his hand, and it hit a ceramic vase on the table. The vase shattered into pieces, flowers tumbling to the floor.

That vase. That damn vase...

We brought it back from Europe on our honeymoon. We’d placed it in our home five years ago.

And now? Now, it was shattered, broken into pieces—just like everything else.

The shards glittered under the harsh light above, sparkling almost blindingly.

I felt my eyes sting with tears. Five years of marriage, gone in an instant—shattered, just like that stupid vase.

I tried to hold it together, not wanting to break down. But looking at all the damage—the broken vase, the pieces everywhere—it was like a mirror reflecting the wreckage of our relationship.

I was about to start cleaning up the mess when Carter, unable to handle being ignored any longer, stormed over. He grabbed my arm and tried to yank me up.

But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared for him to jerk me like that, and I lost my balance.

I fell forward, my knees crashing onto the glass shards. The sharp pain shot through me as the pieces cut into my skin.

My blood—bright red—started dripping onto the floor, pooling in ugly patches.

Seeing the blood seemed to snap him out of his anger. He rushed over, grabbed my hand, and lifted me into his arms, panic flooding his face.

"How could you be so careless?" he muttered, his voice tight. "Come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get that bandaged."

Careless? Seriously? It wasn’t my fault.

It was because he pulled me so forcefully in the first place that I ended up on the floor.

But I wasn’t in the mood to argue.

I just let him carry me to the car.

When he opened the passenger door, we both froze for a second.

On the passenger seat was a white blanket and a pillow. But what really caught my eye was the little white snowman ornament hanging from the rearview mirror.

Every single change—every little detail—screamed that he was living a life with someone else.

Carter quickly shut the passenger door and opened the back seat. He carefully placed me in the back, almost like that would somehow make everything okay.

"It’s on the way to the hospital," he said, his voice casual, like we were having a regular conversation. "Kierra’s place is on the way to ours. She hates the cold and is always making a fuss about it, so I’ve been driving her to and from work, letting her decorate the car."

He added, almost like an afterthought: "She’s still young. Don’t argue with her."

'Still young? Young enough to be drinking wine and celebrating with you?'

But I wasn’t angry anymore. I’d already made up my mind about this marriage. I was done.

"Don’t worry," I said, my voice cold. "I won’t argue. Just get me to the hospital, okay? Getting this bandaged is more important right now."

Carter stared at me, his eyes wide. He hadn’t seen me so calm and indifferent in months. He looked almost taken aback.

I sighed, a note of impatience creeping into my voice. "Can we just hurry up and go to the hospital? If you’re not going to drive, I’ll just take a cab myself."

Chapter 3

Carter sat behind the wheel, hands gripping the steering wheel, not even starting the car. He just stared at it, like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Doesn’t it bother you? Aren’t you going to throw it away?" he asked, his voice almost pleading.

I rolled my eyes from the back seat.

Seriously?

We’re on our way to the hospital, and he’s still focused on something so insignificant. I’d already made up my mind to divorce him, and yet, here he was, stuck on some stupid detail.

I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. "Isn’t she your sister? What’s the problem? Just drive."

Maybe it was because I’d been blocking him from seeing Kierra for the past few months.

I’d told him she wasn’t welcome in our house, kept her out of his car, and got upset over every little thing that involved her.

What had he said back then? “Kierra’s like a little sister to me. She doesn’t have anyone else. I can’t just ignore her.”

Fine. They could have their little life together. Let them take care of her for the rest of their lives. I was done.

Just as I was stewing in my thoughts, Kierra called Carter.

He didn’t even try to hide it. He answered the phone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, what’s up, baby?" he said, his tone soft and affectionate—the tone he always used with her.

I could hear Kierra’s voice through the phone, sweet and calm, "Carter, is Nadine mad at you? I can explain things to her."

She sounded so calm, so innocent like she actually cared about how I was feeling.

"No, she’s not mad," Carter said, his voice warm. "She’s not the petty type."

'Sorry to disappoint you, but I am petty.'

They talked for a while longer, mostly about nothing important, before hanging up. During their chat, Carter casually mentioned we were going to the hospital like it was no big deal.

By the time the call ended, we had pulled up to the hospital.

This was the closest hospital to our house, but I hated coming here. And not just because of the sterile smell of antiseptic and the cold, clinical atmosphere. The reason was simple. I was terrified of hospitals.

In fact, a few years ago, just before our wedding, I lost our baby.

We’d been talking about wedding plans—Carter and I had been together for two years by that point. After we graduated from college, we decided it was time to get married.

We set the date for the spring, after New Year’s.

But before we could even get the marriage certificate, I found out I was pregnant—about two months along—just before the holidays.

It was a surprise to everyone, especially the McGregors. Carter was over the moon. He was ecstatic.

"Nadine," he’d said, holding me gently, his voice full of wonder, "I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to have a baby."

I was just as happy. The thought of having a little piece of us inside me felt... real, tangible. Our love was becoming something more.

We had the wedding planned for the spring, by which time my belly wouldn’t be showing too much.

And since the McGregors are from up north, it’s always cold and snowy in the winter. So that day, while sitting on the couch, eating fruit and watching TV, Carter’s so-called sister, Kierra, came over.

At that point, I didn’t have a problem with her. I thought she was sweet and understanding.

Moreover, Carter had told me Kierra was the daughter of his father’s old driver. She’d lost both her parents when she was young, and the McGregors took her in like family. Her mother treated her like a daughter, so Kierra was like a sister to Carter.

I always tried to be kind to her, out of sympathy.

But that day was different. Kierra saw the snow outside and insisted we go out and build a snowman. She was only eighteen—still a kid, four or five years younger than Carter and me.

We all thought she was just playful, and innocent. But I was wrong.

What I didn’t expect was for Kierra to deliberately push me down the snow-covered steps outside.

I tumbled hard, landing with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. And then, there was blood.

My baby.

When I woke up, the first thing I smelled was disinfectant.

I opened my eyes and realized I was lying in a hospital bed. Carter was sitting beside me, holding my hand. He looked exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a tension in his face that I hadn’t seen before.

"Nadine, baby," he said, his voice shaky with relief, "you’re awake. Thank God."

I had a sinking feeling about what had happened, but I had to ask. I needed to know.

"Where’s our baby?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out. "Is my baby... still there?"

Chapter 4

Carter held me in his arms, his voice breaking as he finally let out a sob. "We’ll have another child, Nadine. Right now, your health is what matters most."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears falling freely down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. "Carter, it was Kierra. She pushed me."

His eyes went wide, shock and anger flashing across his face. "What? Kierra told me you just fell on your own. She would never do that. How could you think of her like that?"

That woman, Kierra Spencer, had a way of twisting the truth, turning everything around to make herself look innocent.

I felt my heart break all over again, thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. "I didn’t fall. She dragged me outside to build a snowman, then she shoved me down the stairs."

Back then, Carter had been so in love with me. I could see it in his eyes—how he used to look at me.

He took a deep breath, trying to process what I had said. Then he comforted me and called the housekeeper to stay with me while he went to confront Kierra.

That evening, Carter came back to the hospital room, and his face was dark and guilty. "Nadine, Kierra denies pushing you. There were no security cameras where you fell, so there’s no proof."

He paused, rubbing his face in frustration, his exhaustion clear. "Her father asked our family to look after her before he died. He was the one who saved my dad’s life in that accident all those years ago. You need to understand, it’s... complicated."

Then, Carter’s mother entered the room, her face etched with concern. She told me to focus on improving— my health was the top priority. Then, she asked me to understand Kierra and about the situation with the family.

I could feel the weight of it all—the guilt, the pressure. I knew what was happening.

Even if Carter believed me, and I truly believed he did, the McGregors would never hold Kierra accountable. Not the way I needed them to.

With my eyes red from crying, I asked Carter softly, "Do you believe me?"

He squeezed my hand gently. "Nadine, I believe you. The baby we lost was mine too."

And that was it. I broke down in his arms, finally letting go of the pain I had been holding inside for so long. "Carter, I never want to see her again. Never."

Before leaving, Carter’s mom promised me that I wouldn’t have to see Kierra in the McGregor house again.

So, Kierra went abroad to study before our wedding. The McGregors told her she couldn’t return to California.

But despite everything, the emotional damage lingered.

I was physically weakened by the loss, and we never had any children after that. Five long years passed without a baby.

I developed a deep aversion to the smell of hospital disinfectant—it triggered memories of pain, loss, and fear. I couldn’t look at snow without that horrible jolt in my chest, remembering how it was tied to losing my baby. Most of all, I couldn’t stand Kierra’s innocent, sweet smile—the one she wore while doing horrible things.

But then, after five years, everything changed.

Carter’s mother started pressuring us about not having kids. We’d been married for five years, and still no children. Even though Carter and I had been living apart for some time, and he’d always protected me from the family’s constant demands, it seemed like that was no longer enough.

And now, Kierra was allowed to return to California. She was working for the McGregor company.

When I found out she was back, I completely lost it. but Carter insisted that so much time had passed, and I needed to let it go.

"So much time has passed," he said, his voice calm but steady. "Even if Kierra made a mistake, she’s aware of it now. You need to let it go."

It hurt more than I expected. Carter had completely forgotten how eagerly he’d once anticipated the birth of our child. How he promised to be the best father, how he said he would always love me.

But now, it was clear. It was only me who was still holding on to the past.

I stared at the hospital and my thoughts were in a tangled mess. Then, I opened the car door myself. My knees ached with the effort, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight that pressed on my chest.

Carter rushed around to my side, ready to carry me into the emergency room. But I shook my head. I wasn’t that same girl who used to pout and act cute whenever something hurt.

"Get me a wheelchair," I said flatly.

Carter’s frustration boiled over. He was angry that I’d rejected his help again, but he clenched his jaw and held back his temper. Still, he refused to get me a wheelchair.

"No," he said firmly, "I’ll carry you in."

I didn’t argue. He picked me up, lifted me carefully, and walked me into the emergency room. The doctor quickly tended to my leg, stopping the bleeding and cleaning the injury.

Just as I was settling in, Carter’s phone rang. I didn’t look up. My attention was still focused on my leg, on the throbbing pain that wouldn’t seem to subside.

Carter stepped outside to take the call. When he returned, I was startled to see someone with him.

Kierra.

When she saw my leg wrapped in bandages, her face softened, and she stepped forward, her eyes filled with concern. "What happened to your leg, Sis? Are you mad at Carter? Did you two fight? Please don’t misunderstand—Carter was just celebrating with me tonight. It’s not what you think."

Kierra’s fake smile and overly sweet tone made me want to gag. Back in college, Carter and I had our share of those 'sugar-coated' types—nice on the outside, but full of ulterior motives underneath.

But back then, Carter had this incredible ability to spot fakes from a mile away. Nothing ever stirred up drama. He’d shut it down before it even had a chance.

But now? With Kierra practically waving her manipulative flag in our faces, Carter couldn’t see it. Not even a little.

I remember the first time I met Kierra at Carter’s place. Even then, she never called me by my name. She always referred to me as her sister-in-law. Back then, I thought it was normal since Carter and I weren’t married yet, and she was his 'adoptive sister.'

But now, after five years of marriage, she still dares to refer as her sister-in-law after cheating with my husband behind my back?

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I glanced at her, feeling a knot in my stomach, and said, "My mom only had me. So you're not my sister and we're never related to each other, Kierra."

She blinked, all wide-eyed and innocent, before replying, “Carter treats me like his sister, so naturally, you’re my sister too.”

I could feel my blood starting to boil.

Before I could even respond, Carter, who’d been listening, shot me a look and started scolding me. "It’s not Kierra who hurt your leg, so why are you taking it out on her? You’re really being unreasonable."

I was fuming. "She’s your dear little sister, not mine! Carter, don’t take your temper out on me. Just take your 'little sister' and get out of here!"