He Chased His First Love Through the Snow-and Lost Me Chapter 03

He Chased His First Love Through the Snow-and Lost Me Chapter 03

The lingering guilt on Garett’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a dark, protective rage. He shielded Natasha behind his broad shoulders, 

glaring at me like I was a rabid animal. “Vivian! What the hell is wrong with you? She is your 

sister!” 

I stared right through Natasha, my teeth clenched. “You keep your filthy mouth off my son.” 

Natasha shrunk back, weeping into his shoulder. “Garett, please don’t let me ruin your relationship. If Vivian refuses to admit Andy was faking, I won’t speak of it again.” 

I turned my freezing gaze to Garett. “You believe her? You honestly think Andy was pretending?” 

He remained silent, glancing around the empty living room. “Where did you hide him this time anyway?” he asked carelessly. 

He truly never believed a word I said. If he had bothered to step foot in this house even once over the past year, he would have seen a dining table. overflowing with chemo drugs and terminal 

medical charts. But he never came home. 

I closed my eyes as a memory surfaced. When 

Andy realized his days were numbered, he had begged for one last family memory at the theme. park. I had swallowed every ounce of my pride, dropping to my knees and clutching Garett’s tailored trousers, promising him that if he granted. this one wish, I would sign whatever waiver he wanted and walk away forever. 

At the time, he had looked down at me from his 

towering height, a complex mixture of relief and 

suspicion in his eyes. “Are you serious this time?” 

“Yes,” I had whispered, tears soaking into the 

floorboards. 

Garett was an orphan my father had pulled from 

the riverbanks when we were children. He became 

my foster brother. When our parents divorced 

during our teenage years, Natasha chose to go 

with our wealthy father, while I clung to Garett’s jacket, begging him to stay with me and my 

mother. 

That single act of teenage desperation became the root of his decade–long hatred for me. He had wanted to follow Natasha abroad. Because of me, 

he was trapped. 

Years later, on her deathbed, my mother placed 

my hand in Garett’s, claiming he was the only man 

she trusted to protect me. Bound by guilt and obligation, Garett threw me a pathetic, secret wedding–no guests, no media, and crucially, no legal registration. 

He told me to my face that a makeshift ceremony was all a woman like me deserved. When my mother dynamically asked when we would 

officially register the marriage, he brushed it off with excuses. 

The moment we stepped out of the ICU, his mask fell off. “Your mother forcing me into this joke of a wedding wasn’t enough? You actually want a legal certificate now?” 

Before I could defend myself, he dropped the final blow, “Don’t reach for things above your station, Vivian. Natasha is coming back. She won’t accept a husband who is legally a divorcé.” 

He saved the legal purity of his name for his true love. Natasha hesitated to accept his proposals because of my presence, so I had finally agreed to 

step aside. 

Yet, he couldn’t even grant my dying boy his final forty–eight hours. He hated me, fine–but Andy was his own blood! How could a father be so 

utterly heartless? 

I looked at Garett one last time. The face I used to 

find breathtakingly handsome now filled me with 

absolute revulsion. 

Before Garett could speak, Natasha whined softly, 

“Garett, my ankle hurts so much… and my face is 

burning. Can you check if it’s swelling? I have a 

major corporate gala tomorrow…”