“Heres the full truth about your fiancée,” his father said dryly, handing Edward a flash drive.
Edward kept glancing at his watch. Hed booked a table at “The White Rose” Londons most exclusive restaurant. Charlotte was already ten minutes late, and that always put him in a foul mood.
Punctuality was everything to him.
He sighed, flipping through the menu again even though he already knew what hed order.
Exhaustion and that unsettling conversation with his father had left his mind tangled. Just as he reached for his phone to call Charlotte, the restaurant door swung open.
“Darling! Im so sorry!” she said, breezing in like a whirlwind in a pale blue dress that hugged her figure. She leaned down and kissed him lightly, smelling of spring flowers and something so familiar his irritation vanished instantly.
“You know how I hate waiting,” he said, trying to keep his voice stern, but his lips betrayed him with a smile. It was impossible to stay angry with her.
“Good,” Charlotte teased, her eyes sparkling. “Because I love knowing a handsome man is waiting for me. Traffic was a nightmaresome old lady crossed the road so slowly, I nearly lost my mind!”
Edward laughed. “Admit it, you spent half an hour on your makeup.”
“Me? Never!” She feigned outrage. “Twenty-five minutes, tops!”
He couldnt stop staring. Her chestnut hair fell in soft waves, her blue eyes shone, and those dimples made her smile impossible to resist.
Every time he looked at her, he still couldnt believe his luck. Theyd met two years ago, been together for eighteen months, and engaged for a year. And now…
“To us?” Edward lifted his champagne glass.
“To us,” Charlotte said, her smile faltering just enough to make his stomach twist.
They ordered and chatted easilyCharlotte animatedly recounting her day at the clinic, laughing about a little patients antics, how the head doctor still called her “the golden nurse.”
“Hows work? Still pushing through that project with your dad?” she asked, taking a bite of salmon.
“Fine,” Edward shrugged. “On schedule, but deadlines are tight.”
She nodded, then casually asked, “Speaking of deadlines… when are we finally setting a wedding date?”
Edward froze. Here we go again.
“Char, we talked about this. Once the project wraps”
“Yes, yes, I remember,” she waved impatiently. “But that was six months ago! Edward, I dont want to wait anymore. Weve been engaged for a year. Whats the hold-up?”
“Im not holding back. Its just not the right time.”
“And when will it be the right time? When Im fifty? I want to be your wife, Edward. Not your fiancéeyour wife!”
“Im drowning in work right now”
“Oh, please! As if planning a wedding means you have to do anything more than show up!”
“Its not about that,” Edward snapped. “I want everything perfect.”
“Me too!” she shot back. “And you know whats perfect? A destination wedding! We talked about this. Ive even looked at brochuresMaldives, Bali, Seychelles. Pick one! They handle everything, we just show up.”
“Again with the island wedding! Do you need the glitz, or just to make everyone jealous?”
Charlotte pushed her plate away sharply. “So thats it? You think Im with you for money? That all I care about is some grand wedding?”
“And you dont?” The words escaped before he could stop them. “All you talk about is the wedding, the trips, the places you want to go. Never that you just want to be with me.”
“Youre impossible!” Her eyes welled up. “I just want to marry you! And you keep making excuses! If you dont want to marry me, just say it!”
“Im not making excuses!” Edward raised his voice, drawing glances. “Why do you keep pushing me?”
“Because I love you, you idiot! But you dont get itor maybe you just dont want to!”
He stood abruptly, tossing a handful of large bills on the table.
“You know what? Im not doing this here. Call me when youve calmed down.”
He stormed out, ignoring the waiters confused stare and Charlottes muffled sobs behind him.
***
Edward sped through London, well over the limit. His sleek BMW cornered smoothly. He cranked the music, trying to drown his thoughtsbut it didnt help.
Why had everything with Charlotte gotten so complicated? When they first met, it had been effortless.
He remembered their first encounterhed stopped by his fathers clinic for documents. Sir Richard Whitmore, one of the countrys top cardiologists and owner of a private healthcare empire, never mixed business with family.
“Business stays in the family,” he always said.
Edward, the only son and heir, had grown up under scrutinyeveryone treated him differently. School, university, work… hed grown tired of women who only saw his wallet. Models, businesswomen, socialitesall wearing the same mask.
Then he met Charlotte.
That day, shed been at the reception desk, filling out forms. Simple scrubs, hair in a ponytailnothing flashy. When she looked up and smiled, something in his chest flipped. Her eyes held no calculationjust warmth and light.
He found excuses to talk to her, then asked her for coffee, then dinner…
Charlotte wasnt like anyone hed met. Raised in an ordinary family, working since sixteen, paying her own way. He loved her realness, her humor, how she never pretended to be someone else.
His mother, Eleanor, adored her instantly.
“Shes genuine, darling. Hold onto her,” shed said after their first meeting, calling Charlotte “my girl” ever since.
But his father… Sir Richard never criticised her. He respected her as an employee. Yet every time Edward mentioned marrying her, something in his fathers gaze shifted.
“Shes lovely, Edward… but not for you.” That sentence had stuck in his mind, feeding doubts.
Maybe his father saw something he didnt. Maybe Charlotte was like the othersjust better at hiding it.
Tonights argument only confirmed it. Her obsession with the wedding, the extravagance… just like his exes.
“Damn it!” He slammed the wheel at a red light.
He loved herno question. But tonight, shed cut deep. For the first time, he considered breaking up. No one would use himnot even her.
***
Edward got home near midnight. The living room was dim, his father nursing a whiskey, watching TV.
“Youre up late,” Edward said, slumping into a chair.
Sir Richard studied him. “Waiting for you. Your mother called Charlotteshe was in tears. What happened?”
“Nothing. Just a fight.”
“About?”
“Not now, Dad. Im drained.”
His father silently poured another whiskey and pushed it toward him. “Drink. Itll help.”
Edward took a grateful sip, the burn dulling the tension.
“You know,” his father said suddenly, “when I met your mother, my parents objected.”
“Really? You never mentioned that.”
“People dont like admitting mistakes,” his father smirked. “They thought she was too plaina nurse from the countryside, not fit for a Whitmore.”
“What did you do?”
“I ignored them. Best decision of my life.”
Silence. Edward knew this wasnt random.
“You fought with Charlotte about the wedding?” his father asked directly.
Edward exhaled. “She kept pushing. Whens the date? Why wait? And that island wedding nonsenselike she just wants a spectacle.”
“Are you sure thats all it is?”
“No,” Edward admitted. “But sometimes… I dont know. You always react weirdly when I talk about marrying her. Like youre hiding something.”
His father held his gaze, then stood abruptly. “Wait here.”
He returned minutes later, handing Edward a small black flash drive.
“Heres the truth about your fiancée.”
Edward stared. “What is this? Did you have her followed?”
“No. Just look. And… Im sorry I didnt tell you sooner.”
Heart pounding, Edward opened the filesmedical records from his fathers clinic.
Congenital heart defect. Severe. Progressive deterioration. Surgery required.
“This… this is Charlotte?” His voice shook.
His father nodded. “Shes been my patient for five years. Thats why she joined the clinicto stay monitored.”
“Why didnt she tell me? Why didnt YOU?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality. She made me swear. Said shed handle it herself.”
“Handle it?” Edwards skin prickled. “This says its worsening. That surgery might only buy time”
“Yes,” his father said quietly. “Her prognosis… isnt good. Even with surgery, best casefive years.”
Edwards throat closed.
“How
