I Made My Fiancé Lost It All

Name: I Made My Fiancé Lost It All
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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I was just a third-grade teacher, my life with my musician fiancé, Ethan, humming along. Our wedding was three weeks away, a dream I' d poured my savings and heart into, supporting his band from day one. But then I saw him. At "Book Nook Brews," not at band rehearsal, but with Chloe, his young intern. He was laughing with her, a genuine laugh I hadn't heard directed at me in months, his hand intimately on hers. The world instantly tilted off its axis. The next morning, the city' s biggest music blog confirmed my worst fears, plastered with photos of them. Yet, Ethan called, not to apologize, but to dismiss it as a "PR stunt," calling Chloe his "temporary PR girlfriend." He even expected me to be excited the wedding would be "bigger news" after his "promotional trip." Later, when I confronted him, he shoved me, causing me to stumble onto broken glass, cutting my hand deeply. He abandoned me bleeding, rushing off to comfort Chloe for a self-inflicted scratch. How could the man I loved be so cold, so manipulative, so utterly, shamelessly devoid of concern for my pain? Why had I sacrificed so much for someone who valued public image over basic human decency? The sting of betrayal was a physical ache, but a cold, hard resolve began to settle in. His final, hollow "love you" felt like ash in my mouth. That' s when I picked up the phone. "Aunt Carol," I said, my voice steady now. "I need a favor. Can you change the groom\'s name on the wedding invitations? To David Miller." And just like that, my meticulous plan, and my new life, began.

Betrayal Revenge Drama Kickass Heroine Personal growth

Chapter 10

06-21 14:28

Introduction

But then I saw him. At "Book Nook Brews," not at band rehearsal, but with Chloe, his young intern. He was laughing with her, a genuine laugh I hadn't heard directed at me in months, his hand intimately on hers. The world instantly tilted off its axis.

The next morning, the city' s biggest music blog confirmed my worst fears, plastered with photos of them. Yet, Ethan called, not to apologize, but to dismiss it as a "PR stunt," calling Chloe his "temporary PR girlfriend." He even expected me to be excited the wedding would be "bigger news" after his "promotional trip." Later, when I confronted him, he shoved me, causing me to stumble onto broken glass, cutting my hand deeply. He abandoned me bleeding, rushing off to comfort Chloe for a self-inflicted scratch.

How could the man I loved be so cold, so manipulative, so utterly, shamelessly devoid of concern for my pain? Why had I sacrificed so much for someone who valued public image over basic human decency? The sting of betrayal was a physical ache, but a cold, hard resolve began to settle in.

His final, hollow "love you" felt like ash in my mouth. That' s when I picked up the phone. "Aunt Carol," I said, my voice steady now. "I need a favor. Can you change the groom\'s name on the wedding invitations? To David Miller." And just like that, my meticulous plan, and my new life, began.