While clearing out the bottom drawer of his office desk, my hand caught on a thick paper folder.
The label on the tab contained two printed names: Andrew Foster and Gemma Salas.
Inside were official municipal copies of marriage license applications, vendor receipts, and catering forms.
My eyes scanned the stamp dates on the paperwork, revealing they had been submitted nearly two weeks prior to our scheduled wedding date.
I stood completely frozen in the middle of the room as the realization washed over me.
This was not an impulsive decision made because I was three hours late to the chapel.
They had not magically fallen in love while waiting for me in the lobby that afternoon.
They had meticulously planned the replacement weeks in advance.
I even found a digital bank transfer printout from Brenda covering the administrative expedite fees for the new license.
I pulled out my phone and photographed every single document before dialing Andrew’s cell phone.
“How long have you actually been sleeping with Gemma behind my back?” I asked directly as soon as he answered.
A long, suffocating silence filled the line before he finally spoke. “Samantha…”
“Since when, Andrew?” I demanded, keeping my voice surprisingly steady.
“It has been about four months now,” Andrew confessed quietly.
A cold wave of relief mixed with disgust washed over me. “So my late arrival at the venue had absolutely nothing to do with your choice.”
“Well, you missing the start time was just the final push I needed to go through with it,” Andrew claimed defensively.
I let out a harsh laugh that held zero humor. “Andrew, I am holding the legal paperwork dated two full weeks ago.”
There was another long pause on the line, followed by a response that shattered whatever tiny shred of respect I had left for him.
“My mother told me that you would eventually choose your hospital patients over me, so I just wanted to be fully prepared,” Andrew said nonchalantly.
He had literally converted a secret affair into an official backup plan for his own wedding ceremony.
And his mother had been actively orchestrating the entire plot alongside him.
“You are unbelievable,” I said, hanging up the phone before he could offer another pathetic excuse.
Later that afternoon, I walked into St. Luke Memorial to check up on my young patient.
Paisley was sitting up in bed, and her eyes lit up brightly the moment I stepped into her room.
“Did you manage to fix my tummy?” Paisley asked sweetly, clutching a stuffed bear.
“I certainly did, and you are going to be feeling much better very soon,” I smiled back.
“My dad told me that you are a real-life superhero who saved my life,” she added proudly.
Zachary was sitting in the corner armchair, smiling warmly as he watched us interact.
Paisley reached out and took my hand into her tiny fingers. “That means you are my favorite doctor in the whole wide world.”
“How many doctors do you actually know, little lady?” I teased gently.
She pondered the question for a moment. “Only two, but you are definitely winning the contest.”
Over the following weeks, my daily post-shift hospital rounds naturally extended into short visits with Paisley.
When Zachary learned that I was temporarily living out of a long-term hotel while looking for a place, he offered to lease me a vacant apartment unit he owned near the medical district.
I insisted on paying the standard market rental rate before accepting his generous offer.
Paisley was fully discharged twelve days later, skipping out of the hospital doors with a bright smile.
About a month later, my phone rang with an unknown caller ID, which turned out to be Gemma.
“I really need you to understand that neither of us ever intended to hurt you like this, Samantha,” Gemma pleaded nervously.
“Gemma, you sat on my couch playing dress-up with my wedding planning materials while actively sleeping with my fiancé,” I stated directly.
She went completely silent on the other end of the line.
