Chapter 8

On his way to Emma, Wally suddenly felt a wave of panic rising in his chest for no apparent reason.

He shook his head hard, trying to shake off that unsettling feeling.

He told himself that Felicia had always been soft. Once she cooled down, she would let it go.

After all these years together, and with that so-called debt she owed Emma, he believed that she would not keep making a fuss about it.

When Wally arrived at the wedding venue, the red carpet was rolled out.

Emma was dressed in a pure white wedding gown.

She slipped her arm through his, her voice sweet as she chatted about how the decorations were what she'd hoped for.

He responded absentmindedly, but his gaze kept wandering to the empty corners of the room.

To his surprise, he suddenly pictured Felicia in a wedding dress.

"Wally, why do you seem so distracted?" Emma noticed his wandering mind and looked up at him, her eyes full of happiness.

"Is the wedding too simple for you? It's okay. As long as I'm with you, nothing else matters."

Wally snapped out of it, reached over to ruffle her hair, and forced down the odd feeling in his chest. "No, everything's fine."

The wedding wasn't extravagant, but the ceremony itself went smoothly and without any hiccups.

Wally, dressed sharply in his suit, stood at the front holding Emma's hand, surrounded by a room full of blessings and congratulations.

Yet, out of nowhere, the joyful atmosphere made him think back to the day he proposed to Felicia years ago.

After the wedding, Wally returned with Emma to their suite.

With the drinks kicking in and Emma all over him, gentle and persistent, Wally finally gave in and ended up sleeping with her.

Afterward, he leaned against the headboard, smoking as the haze curled around them.

Emma nestled in his arms, rambling about their future, including having a baby and starting a perfect family together.

But he didn't take in a single word she said. That sense of panic inside him only grew stronger, pressing down on his chest until he could barely breathe.

It wasn't until the cigarette burned down to his finger, the sting jolting him back to reality, that he quickly stubbed it out.

"Wally, what's wrong?" Emma looked up at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"It's nothing," Wally said quietly, tossing aside the covers and getting out of bed.

"Too much happened today. I still have no idea how Felicia's doing. I need to head back for a bit."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was stunned.

Even he had to admit it sounded crazy to ditching his bride on their wedding night to go find his ex-wife.

Emma's face fell, her voice full of hurt. "Wally, this is our wedding night. Why are you still talking about her?"

Wally frowned, locking eyes with her. "Emma, I might be able to marry you, but Felicia is the only woman I'll ever truly call my wife.

"If something really happens to her, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

With that, he turned and walked out, not even sparing a glance at Emma's expression.

Wally floored it, skipping his apartment and heading straight for the old villa site.

The place had been wiped out. It was empty.

Standing in the cold wind, he pulled out his phone. His fingers shook as he dialed Felicia's number, but all he got was a cold busy tone.

He tried again and again, but it was always the same.

Wally's hands shook even harder. Suddenly, he remembered the crew he'd brought in to tear down the villa.

He felt that they might have seen Felicia or have some clues.

He scrolled for the foreman's number, almost dropping his phone as he dialed.

The moment the call connected, he rushed out, "It's me, Wally."

"Mr. Norris, is something wrong?" the foreman asked.

"My wife, Felicia, was at the site that day. Where did she go after that?" Wally pressed.

The foreman hesitated for a long moment before stammering, "Mr. Norris, after you left that day, your wife had an asthma attack and collapsed.

"Then, a guy took her away."