Engaged to the City's Coldest Woman

Sophia Wilson is the youngest chief of cardiothoracic surgery in Greenley. Everyone says she has the steadiest hands and a heart made of stone. But I know she isn't incapable of feeling. It's just that her tenderness is never reserved for me. The day after our engagement party, Dad suffers a sudden stroke and gets rushed into surgery. The nurse tells me I need a second person to sign off on the surgery, so I call Sophia right away. The phone rings for a long time before she finally answers. Through the line, I hear a man's weak, ragged breathing. It's her ex-boyfriend, Harrison Cross. Sophia drops her voice to a whisper. "Harrison's having a severe panic attack right now. I'm staying with him. Just tell the hospital staff to bypass the paperwork for now." I clutch the pen so tightly that my knuckles turn white. "The doctor says it's a massive emergency. You're the only person I have right now." She falls silent for a second, her voice remaining steady. "Don't be so dramatic. The hospital has procedures in place, but they aren't going to just let someone die." On her end of the line, Harrison murmurs, "Sophia, don't let me keep you from Conrad. Maybe you should just leave. I can handle this on my own." Sophia shoots back immediately, "Stop acting tough. I'm not leaving." The line goes dead just as the nurse presses me one more time. Looking down at my ring finger, I stare at the engagement band Sophia personally picked out. She tells me that it's always foggy at the dock, but if the diamond is bright enough, she'll always be able to find me at a glance. But that day, the harsh white lights outside the operating room are so blinding, and I'm standing alone in the fog, yet she doesn't show up. After Dad is finally out of danger, I spend the entire night sitting outside his room. As dawn breaks, a text from Sophia finally lights up my screen. "Harrison's asleep. How is your dad doing?" I look out the window at the ferry moored at the dock. The fog has completely cleared, and it's time for me to leave. Chapter 1 "How is your dad doing?" The text from Sophia Wilson sat on the screen, a stinging reminder that arrived too late. I sat on the bench outside the operating theatre, still clutching a ballpoint pen. The plastic cap had cracked under my grip, its sharp edges biting into my palm. The nurse pushed the door open, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Ellery, your father's out of immediate danger for now, but we'll need to keep him under close observation." I nodded. My phone vibrated again as a second text from Sophia popped up. "Harrison is feeling better now. I'm heading your way." I stared at the words for a long time before replying concisely, "That won't be necessary." She called immediately after, but I didn't answer. By the time Dad was rolled into the ICU, dawn had already broken. I watched him through the glass window as he lay in the hospital bed with half of his face swallowed by an oxygen mask. My mind suddenly drifted back to the night of our engagement party. When Sophia slipped the ring onto my finger, her fingertips had brushed against my knuckles as she whispered, "Conrad, if anything ever happens, you come to me first." The applause from the crowd had been deafening, and back then, I had actually believed her. At 8:00 am, Sophia finally arrived at the hospital wearing the same black coat from the night before. Her collar was slightly wrinkled, and she carried a mixed scent of antiseptic and men's cologne. When she caught sight of me, her pace faltered. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" she asked. I leaned back against the wall, my voice sounding raspy. "I didn't want to wake Harrison." Her brows knitted together at my response. "Conrad Ellery, do you really have to use that tone with me?" Keeping my eyes fixed on the floor, I countered, "What do you want me to say? Should I thank you for remembering my dad in the middle of your busy schedule?" Sophia fell silent for a moment before reaching out to wrap her fingers around my wrist. The gesture was soft and gentle, mimicking how a doctor would coax a patient. "Last night was an emergency," she explained. "Harrison suffers from severe panic attacks, and he can't handle any emotional triggers." I pulled my hand back from her touch. "My dad was fighting for his life." "I know," she said, her tone softening. "But your dad was already in the hospital, where he had doctors and a system looking after him. Harrison only had me." He only had her. As those words fell, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Sophia looked at me, a flash of irritation crossing her eyes as she snapped, "Stop making a scene. I'm here now, aren't I?" To her, just showing up was enough to make amends. She believed that her crumbs of affection, her belated explanations, and her retroactive attention were things I should gratefully accept whenever she finally got around to offering them. The doctor stepped out of the office right then, handing me a thick stack of medical bills alongside the upcoming treatment plan. Just as I reached for them, Sophia intercepted the papers. "I'll handle this," she said, her fingers deftly sweeping through the pages with a calm, professional demeanor. "I'll get a specialist to reevaluate the surgical plan, so don't stress too much." If this had happened in the past, her reassurance would've lifted a massive weight off my shoulders. But right now, her empty promises only left me completely numb. Just then, her phone rang. Sophia glanced down, her expression visibly softening the moment she saw the caller ID. It was Harrison Cross. Instead of answering, she swiped to decline the call, but a second later, a text from him lit up the screen anyway. "Sophia, I'm awake. The room feels so empty. I'm scared." Sophia tightened her grip on the medical bills. I saw the movement, and she knew I saw it. The air turned perfectly still for a few seconds before she looked up, her voice steady. "I'll go handle your dad's bills first, then I'll go check on him." I stared at the paperwork in her hands and said, "No need." Sophia frowned. "Conrad, this is no time to throw a tantrum." "I'm not throwing a tantrum," I replied, snatching the bills back from her hands and straightening the papers one by one. "I can handle my dad's affairs myself." She stared at me, trying to figure out if I was just playing mind games to get her to apologize, but I simply turned around and walked toward the billing counter. Behind me, Harrison called her once more, and this time, Sophia answered it. "Don't be scared," she murmured. "I'll be back soon." I didn't stop walking. There was a long line, and the fluorescent light above the counter flickered rhythmically as I looked down at the ring on my finger. The diamond was still brilliant, but all of a sudden, I felt as though it had lost track of me completely. Chapter 2 The day Dad was moved to a regular ward, Sophia brought over a care plan. It was meticulously put together, outlining dosing schedules, physical therapy, dietary restrictions, and even the nursing shifts. She set the folder down on the nightstand. "I had a word with the head of rehab, and he's coming in for a consultation tomorrow." Dad had just woken up. The corner of his mouth was still drooping slightly, making his speech slurred. "Sophia… thank you for everything." Sophia leaned over his bed. "Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Ellery. Just focus on getting better." Her behavior was completely flawless. She was polished, attentive, and a perfect future daughter-in-law—that was, if one ignored the fact that Harrison existed. Around noon, Harrison showed up carrying a fruit basket. He was wearing a cream-colored sweater, looking incredibly pale with his hospital ID band still strapped to his wrist. The second he stepped through the door, his eyes locked onto Sophia. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked. Sophia set her glass down. "You haven't even recovered yet. What are you doing here?" Harrison looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I heard Mr. Ellery woke up, and I just couldn't sit still. If it hadn't been for me the other night, you wouldn't have—" He cut himself off, his eyes welling with tears. Dad had no idea what was going on, so he waved his hand. "It's fine. There's no need to cry." I stayed by the window, watching Harrison place the fruit basket on the table. Inside was a box of imported blueberries, something Dad wasn't allowed to eat. Sophia glanced at it and immediately smoothed things over for him. "Harrison was just trying to do something nice." I picked up the basket and handed it to the caregiver waiting by the door. "Could you take this down to the nurses' station for them to share?" Harrison stiffened. "Conrad, are you still mad at me?" Sophia shot me a fleeting glance that carried a very clear warning not to embarrass him. I used to be terrified of that look. I used to worry that she'd find me unrefined, petty, or less of a man, so I sucked it up more times than I could count—like the night Harrison ran a fever and she walked out on our anniversary dinner. I also remembered when she drove across half of Greenley during a storm because Harrison claimed he was terrified of thunder, or the time Harrison muttered that he was uncomfortable around strangers, which prompted Sophia to personally handle booking his therapy sessions. Meanwhile, when a severe stomachache had me hooked to an IV in the emergency room, she only texted, "Do whatever the doctor says." I looked Harrison dead in the eye and said evenly, "I'm not mad at you." He froze, and Sophia lifted her eyes to look at me, too. "You're free to run to her whenever you need something," I continued. "And it's her choice to drop everything and go." The room fell dead silent. Harrison bit his lip. "Conrad, hearing that really hurts my feelings." Sophia finally snapped. "That's enough, Conrad." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp enough to make Dad look over at me. "Harrison is in a fragile state right now. Stop backing him into a corner." Dad frowned weakly. "Conrad, cut it out." My hands gradually curled into fists as I realized that even my own father thought I was the one being difficult. Sophia marched over, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out into the hallway. Her grip on my arm was firm enough that I couldn't shake her off. "Your dad just woke up," she said. "Do you seriously have to pick a fight right there in his room?" I looked her dead in the eye. "How am I picking a fight?" "Harrison already apologized." "He apologized to make sure everyone knows what a victim he is," I countered. Sophia's face darkened. "Conrad, you never used to be this antagonistic." Of course, I hadn't been that way before. I used to make excuses for her, telling myself that she just took her responsibilities too seriously or that she simply couldn't bear to watch Harrison fall apart. However, the harsh fluorescent light outside the operating room had shone all night long, and it had made something glaringly obvious. Harrison staggered out of the room, leaning against the wall as if he might collapse at any second. "Sophia, I'm feeling a little dizzy." Sophia dropped my arm and rushed to his side. She threw an arm around his shoulders to steady him, her tone softening. "Let me take you home." Then, she threw a glance at me over her shoulder. "Stay here and take care of Mr. Ellery. Call me if anything comes up." I kept my eyes on her hand resting against Harrison's shoulder. "If I call, will you actually answer?" I blurted. Sophia froze for a split second. Harrison leaned into her arms and murmured, "Conrad, please stop putting her in such a difficult position." I simply nodded. "Fine." Sophia looked relieved as she helped Harrison toward the exit. When the elevator doors closed at the end of the hall, I looked down at the marks her fingers had left on my wrist. It was faint and would disappear in a few minutes, just like all the humiliation I had endured over the years. Nobody saw it, and nobody cared anyway. Chapter 3 Sophia's mother, Cynthia Burke, arrived at the hospital that afternoon. The moment she walked into the room, she tossed her purse onto a chair and spoke with a tone of familiar reproach. "Conrad, your father being hospitalized is huge news. Why didn't you let us know sooner?" I was gently wiping Dad's fingers with a damp towel. "I did." Cynthia froze for a second, but she quickly recovered with a smile. "Well, Sophia has a demanding career, so you need to be more understanding. With a position like hers, she has a ton of patients counting on her to help them." I didn't respond. Dad lay in his bed, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. "Cynthia, I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble." Cynthia waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't say that. We're family." With that said, she reached into her bag and pulled out a booklet of wedding invitation samples. "By the way, I had someone redesign the invitations. That dusty blue you picked before was just too drab and depressing for a wedding. Luckily, Harrison has an incredible eye for design, so he helped pick out a gold-foil version instead." My hands went completely still against Dad's fingertips. "Harrison's picking out our wedding invitations?" Cynthia gave a matter-of-fact nod. "Of course. He grew up right alongside Sophia, so he knows exactly what she likes." I looked at the golden sample invitation. Embossed across the front cover was a line of text, "Till death do us part." The irony wasn't lost on me. "I also took a look at the seating arrangements for the reception," Cynthia continued. "Since Harrison's health is so fragile, I'm having him sit right next to the head table. That way, it'll be easier for Sophia to keep an eye on him during the reception." I snapped my head up. "She has to look after him on our wedding day, too?" Cynthia's expression faltered. "Conrad, you're a grown man. Stop being so insecure. Harrison's parents have passed, so what's wrong with Sophia giving him a little extra attention? You're going to be her husband. You need to learn how to handle things like a man." Dad let out a faint cough from the bed. "Conrad, she's just trying to help with the wedding." I dropped the towel back into the washbasin, causing the water to slosh against the sides. "Mrs. Wilson, let's put the wedding on hold." The room fell dead silent. Cynthia's smile stiffened. "What did you just say?" "Given my dad's condition, my mind isn't on a wedding." Her brows knitted tightly together. "Your father has caregivers to look after him. You can't let this derail plans that involve both of our families. The venue, the caterers, and the press are already locked in. Calling it off at the last second would look absolutely ridiculous!" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Besides, think about Sophia's reputation. People in Greenley talk, and they love a scandal. If you pull a stunt like this, you're going to humiliate her." I looked at her. "My dad almost died, yet she was busy taking care of Harrison." Cynthia's face hardened. "Oh, for heaven's sake, stop keeping score. She made it here eventually, didn't she?" Eventually… Everyone loved using that word. It was always about how she showed up eventually, how she made it up to me eventually, and how she apologized eventually. But on that long night outside the operating room, I was on my own. The sound of footsteps echoed from outside. Sophia pushed the door open, her gaze sweeping past the two of us. "What's going on?" Cynthia wasted no time pointing a finger at me. "Ask your fiance. Apparently, he wants to call off the wedding." Sophia looked at me, her face unreadable. "Conrad, step outside with me." Once we were out in the hallway, she shut the door behind us. "We can't call off the wedding." Those were the first words out of her mouth, and she didn't even care to ask why I had said it. I leaned back against the wall and kept my voice low. "My dad needs someone here." "I'll hire the best caregiver money can buy." "He needs his son." Sophia rubbed the bridge of her nose. "You shouldn't be making decisions when you're this emotional." A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. "Sophia, stop treating me like one of your patients." She caught herself, her movement freezing. "You don't get to diagnose me," I continued quietly. "I don't need you to manage me either." Looking at me, she lowered her voice. "Conrad, I know I handled things poorly the other night. But a wedding isn't a game, and you can't just throw our entire future away over a single slip-up." A single slip-up? My eyes drifted down to the silver watch on her wrist. I had given it to her for her birthday last year. She had always told me that she couldn't wear anything flashy in the operating room, so I picked the most understated, minimalist design I could find. Harrison had randomly complimented it once, and she hadn't taken it off a single day since. "If Harrison has another emergency on our wedding day, will you leave me at the altar?" I asked. Sophia didn't say a word, yet her silence told me everything I needed to know. A bitter smile touched my lips. "See? You can't even be bothered to lie to me." Her expression shifted slightly. "Conrad, don't say something you're going to regret." Just then, the door to the ward area cracked open. Harrison stood in the doorway, clutching the sample wedding invitation. "Sophia, your mom asked me to help look over the wedding vows. Did I make Conrad mad at me again?" Sophia glanced at him, her voice dropping into a gentle, soothing murmur. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. Head inside." Looking down, I tried to twist the ring on my left hand, but the band caught hard against my knuckle, sending a slight ache through my finger. Sophia reached out, intending to gently massage my hand, but I instinctively pulled away from her touch. Her hand froze in midair. Watching the exchange, Harrison lowered his eyes to the floor. "Maybe I should just leave." Sophia pulled her hand back, turning around to steady Harrison. "Don't wander off." I stood frozen, watching them walk back into the room side by side. Just before the door clicked shut, I caught the sound of Cynthia letting out a long sigh. "You're much more mature than he is, Harrison." Looking down at my hand, I let my gaze fall on the ring that had finally loosened around my finger. It slipped free and dropped silently into the palm of my hand, making so little noise that nobody even turned around. Chapter 4 On the day of Dad's follow-up appointment, Sophia promised to accompany us to the post-op consultation. She said she would be there by 10:00 am. By 9:30 am, I was already waiting outside the rehabilitation department with Dad in a wheelchair. Dad seemed more spirited now. With his mouth still slightly askew, he asked, "Is Sophia busy?" I carefully draped a blanket over his knees. "Yeah, she's busy." 10:05 am came and went, yet there was no sign of her. By 10:20 am, the doctor began calling out patient numbers. I dialed Sophia's number. The first time, it went to voicemail. The second time, she disconnected the call. On my third attempt, she finally picked up. It sounded quiet in the background, as if she were in a private ward. "Conrad, something came up on my end," she said. I stared at the numbers flashing above the clinic door. "The doctor is waiting. You took the files with you." Fearing I might lose them, she had personally tucked them into her briefcase the night before. There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Harrison slit his wrists." My grip on the phone gradually tightened. "Is it bad?" "The cuts aren't deep, but he's in a terrible headspace," she replied, her voice laced with fatigue and reproach. "He found out about you wanting to put the wedding on hold last night. He thinks it's all his fault and completely broke down." I closed my eyes. "So, what about the files?" "I'll have my assistant bring them over." "How long?" "Half an hour." The clinic door swung open right then, and the doctor glanced at me. "Sir, do you still not have the files with you? There are other patients behind you." Sitting in his wheelchair, Dad made a visible effort to raise his hand and pat my arm. "It's fine. We can wait." Through the receiver, Harrison's faint voice drifted over. "Sophia, don't blame Conrad. It's my fault." Sophia immediately dropped her voice to a coddling murmur. "It's not your fault." If it wasn't his fault, whose was it? Mine? Was I wrong for putting the wedding on hold, for making him feel guilty, or for demanding my own father's medical files on the day of his follow-up appointment? "I'm sorry," I apologized. "We'll have to reschedule." The doctor frowned. "A post-op consultation shouldn't be delayed. You need to take these things seriously." I pushed Dad toward the exit, the wheels of his chair making a dull, rhythmic thud every time they crossed the gaps between the floor tiles. "Conrad, maybe we should just go ahead with the wedding," Dad murmured. "I'm only holding you back." I stopped right in front of the elevator, a sudden lump forming in my throat. "Dad, this has nothing to do with you." "Sophia is a wonderful young lady. She's just loyal to a fault." Dad looked up at me, his eyes cloudy yet earnest. "Your mother passed away young, and my biggest fear has always been leaving you with no one to look after you. Don't ruin your marriage because of me." I crouched down to tuck the edges of his blanket back in. "What if she's the one who can't look after me?" Dad froze. Just then, the elevator doors slid open. Sophia's assistant, Erica Tate, came rushing toward us, holding out a folder. "Mr. Ellery, Dr. Wilson asked me to deliver this. And this too." She handed over a plain white envelope. Opening it, I found a wedding itinerary confirmation form. Sophia's signature was already penned at the very bottom. Right next to the section for the groom's vows, a handwritten note read, "Harrison to give a toast, thanking the newlyweds for their years of support." Staring at those words, I felt a sudden urge to laugh. It was my wedding, and her ex-boyfriend was slated to stand onstage to thank us for taking care of him. "Dr. Wilson said not to change the itinerary again," Erica added cautiously. "Mr. Cross can't handle any emotional triggers right now." I held the folder tight against my chest, the sharp paper edges digging through my shirt. "What else did she say?" Erica hesitated for a second. "She said you've been in a bad headspace lately, so we should just humor you as much as possible." Humor me? It was as if I were a difficult, irrational patient. Dad's face went pale the moment he caught sight of that itinerary. "Conrad…" I folded the paper neatly and slipped it into my bag. "Dad, let's get you back to your room first." … Sophia finally showed up later that afternoon, standing at the door of the hospital room with Dad's favorite stew. "I rescheduled the appointment for tomorrow. I'll personally accompany you then," she said. I looked at her. "Where's Harrison?" "Sleeping." Setting the food down, she walked over to stand right in front of me. "I know I was wrong, but Harrison truly almost didn't make it. Conrad, when it comes to a human life, stop keeping score of who comes first." "Okay." I nodded. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "I looked over the itinerary. My mom added Harrison's toast, but she meant well. If you don't like it, I can take it out." "Don't bother," I said. Sophia blinked, visibly startled. Pulling the engagement ring out of my bag, I set it down on the nightstand. It rolled a single turn before stopping right beside the thermal flask. "Sophia, let's go through with the wedding," I said. Her expression softened instantly. "I'm glad you've come to your senses." I watched her pick up the ring, fully intending to slide it back onto my finger, before pulling my hand back. "Just leave it there for now. My fingers are swollen." She didn't press the matter. Late that night, after Dad had fallen asleep, I walked over to the nurses' station and signed the transfer forms. The earliest ferry from Greenley to Mistville was scheduled for 5:40 am. Leaving the ring behind on the nightstand, I picked up Dad's medical charts. As I reached the very end of the hallway, I received a call from Sophia. The display lit up before fading away. I didn't bother answering. Instead, I simply held down the power button and turned it off.