Wendy and Jared met in a car accident, and it was also because of that car accident that Wendy ended up in the hospital with a leg injury.
"I have nothing to do with Jared anymore. You don't need to explain anything to me," I didn't want to be entangled with them anymore.
"Vera, don't be unreasonable. You know about Wendy's leg injury, and today we came to inquire about Wendy's cat's cremation. Do you have to be jealous of her?" Jared spoke up and stood in front of Wendy.
Wendy chimed in with a hint of tears in her voice, "Vera, the stray cat I just picked up, won't live long. We are preparing for its funeral in advance."
Jared had been scratched by a cat and developed a trauma towards cats, but he could endure the physical discomfort and accompany Wendy to stay with the cat.
Looking at the two people who were protecting each other, I felt annoyed. I covered my forehead and temporarily made the scene quiet.
Jared was dissatisfied with my reaction, "Vera, we are about to get engaged. You should consider the overall situation."
His pattern of behavior used to be giving a harsh rebuke followed by a sweet gesture as a form of consolation. In the past, I would have eagerly accepted that sweet gesture. I might even have seized the moment to offer him an escape route, apologized, and vowed to be more obedient in the future. But now, looking back, the more hope I had invested in him, the more profound my despair feels. That sweet gesture, which once seemed sincere, now strikes me as nothing but a comedic afterthought.
However, Wendy appeared to disdain the sweet gesture. Her gaze shifted elsewhere. "Wow, what a stunning urn. Jared, let's choose this one for Flora. I'm sure she would love it."
"Excuse me, ma'am, this urn is specifically crafted for the deceased's family," the staff explained politely.
"Jared, look at this design, it's exquisite. I want to use this one for Flora. Let's just speak to the person it's intended for. I'm sure we can make it work," Wendy said, taking the urn out of the staff's hand rather abruptly.
"Ma'am, please don't do that. It's disrespectful to the deceased and may cause distress to their family. Kindly return it to me," the staff said, sounding increasingly concerned.
I felt uneasy for no reason, and when I glanced over, I saw this scene. Wendy was holding the specially made urn containing my grandma's ashes that the staff had just taken out.