When Love Was Gone in a flash

Jude and I spent most of our lives together. We had both a son and a daughter and walked hand in hand all the way to our golden wedding anniversary.

When Jude was gravely ill and near death, our son asked him if he had any final wishes.

“After I die, bury me together with your aunt,” he said. “That is my only wish in this life.”

Everyone was stunned, exchanging glances and looking at me with pity.

I nodded and agreed, “Let’s do as he says.”

People laughed at me, saying that after all these years of serving my in-laws, supporting my husband and raising our children, I still couldn’t win my husband’s heart in the end. I had become a joke.

But what they didn’t know was: if there were a next life, I would still never marry Jude.

When I opened my eyes again, we had been reborn, back to the day of the wedding.

As expected, Jude ran away, leaving me behind to face everyone's judgment and scorn.

But I didn’t feel humiliated. On the contrary, I felt relieved.

My gaze slowly turned toward the man in the suit standing in the corner.

“Yosef,” I said, “I’m short one groom. Would you be willing to take his place?”