Miranda’s POV

The eve of my wedding had arrived, and emotions swirled within me like a tempest. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the delicate lace of my wedding dress hanging by the window. The weight of the impending ceremony pressed heavily on my chest.

I reached for my phone and dialed my parents. When my mother answered, her voice was filled with warmth.

“Miranda, sweetheart! How are you feeling?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

A pause. Then my father’s steady tone came through. “We’re listening, honey.”

I swallowed hard. “You know Damon, the man I’m marrying tomorrow? He’s… we’ve known each other for a while. He was my boss at the firm before I resigned.”

Silence. Then my mother spoke, surprise evident in her voice. “Your boss? The one you always spoke about?”

“Yes,” I admitted, my fingers twisting the hem of my shirt. “I never mentioned it before because our relationship was complicated. But I thought you should know now.”

My father sighed. “Miranda, why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I was afraid,” I confessed. “Afraid of judgment, of misunderstanding. But I realize now that I need your support.”

My mother’s voice softened. “We love you, dear. We just want you to be happy. If Damon makes you happy, that’s what matters.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

When they hung up, I called Damon immediately. My emotions were all over the place and the moment he picked, I said. “I have this sudden craving for pizza. Could you get some for me?”

He chuckled. “Anything for you. I’ll be home soon.”

As the minutes ticked by, my anticipation turned to impatience. An hour passed, then another. I paced the living room, glancing at the clock repeatedly. When Damon finally walked through the door, pizza box in hand, I couldn’t contain my frustration.

“Where have you been?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

He looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, Miranda. The pizzeria was packed, and traffic was worse than I expected.”

I shook my head, anger bubbling to the surface. “You could have called. I’ve been waiting.”

He stepped closer, concern in his eyes. “I truly apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

But I turned away, unable to let go of my irritation. “I just… I needed you here.”

Damon sighed, placing the pizza on the table. “I understand. I’ll give you some space.”

He left the room, leaving me alone with my tumultuous thoughts.

****

Damon’s POV

Frustration gnawed at me as I stepped outside, the cool night air doing little to soothe my agitation.

I leaned against the car, running a hand through my hair. The evening had spiraled out of control, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that Miranda rarely got upset without reason. Perhaps there was more to her outburst than met the eye. Resolving to make amends, I turned back toward the house.

As I entered, the silence was deafening. “Miranda?” I called out, my voice echoing through the rooms.

No response.

A sense of dread settled over me as I moved through the house. Then, in the dim light of the living room, I saw her.

Miranda lay sprawled on the floor, motionless.

“Miranda!” I shouted, rushing to her side. I knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulders. “Wake up! Please!”

Her eyelids fluttered, and she let out a faint groan.

Relief flooded through me, but concern still gripped my heart. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

She blinked up at me, confusion clouding her eyes. “I… I don’t know. I felt dizzy, and then everything went black.”

Carefully, I helped her sit up, supporting her against my chest. “We need to get you checked out. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She nodded weakly, leaning into me. “Okay.”

As I carried her to the car, my mind raced with worry. The wedding was tomorrow, but all that mattered now was Miranda’s health.

Everything else could wait.