After Being Shamed, My Lover Broke Our Engagement

I lay beside him all night, eyes wide open, face expressionless.

My heart grew colder with every passing minute.

The next morning, he prepared breakfast like he always did.

To take better care of my health, he had even studied cooking under a senior nutritionist.

While he was busy in the kitchen, I ran to the bathroom and vomited so hard my stomach cramped.

Tears fell uncontrollably, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the searing ache in my heart.

Once I recovered, I saw Caleb’s phone left unattended.

I tried unlocking it with Elena’s birthday—and it opened.

He had once told me he didn’t like taking photos, but there were over 6,000 in his album—every single one of Elena.

He organized them into four folders, each labeled with a single letter. Together, they spelled “LOVE.”

His devotion was chronicled in detail—Elena at every moment, every phase.

In their messages, I saw how he would always be with her on the nights he claimed to be too busy.

When she said she wanted to watch fireworks, this normally composed man spent the entire night buying and setting them off just to please her.

She wanted a warm, romantic breakfast, so this gangster—who once only knew violence—learned to cook for her.

When she wished to be a princess on her birthday, he risked his life stealing the royal sapphire crown.

I remembered that day vividly. He came back covered in blood, shot twice.

He nearly died.

It was I who brought my father’s only heirloom—the ancestral sky-high cross—to barter for his life from the royal family.

Through blurred tears, I saw another shocking message.

Caleb had written: “Thank you for saving me on the beach. Even though we can’t be together, I’ll always carry you in my heart.”

But it was I who saved him.

Five years ago, in Canada, while volunteering as a doctor without borders, I pulled him half-dead from the sea.

Saving lives was part of my duty. I never saw the need to bring it up.

So ,how did it become her?

Elena, who was terrified of death and never even went to Canada, somehow took credit for what I did.

Memories surged back, and a wild, absurd thought took root.

I collapsed, laughing and crying at the same time.

The sound startled Caleb. Thinking I was having a depressive episode, he rushed over to comfort me.

His voice was soft, his expression full of concern—just as always.

But his kindness stabbed deeper than any betrayal.

Just as I was about to speak, his phone rang.

I glanced at the screen. It was Elena.

He hesitated, then prepared to decline the call.

I wiped away my tears and said, “Answer it.”

On the line, she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of her tomorrow. After that, you’ll be completely free.”

I couldn’t hear the reply on the other end, but I saw Caleb’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, looking conflicted.

After hanging up, he gave me a good-morning kiss like nothing had changed, then handed me my breakfast.

“My brother’s in trouble. I have to go now. Eat something, okay?”

I nodded and watched him drive away.

Then I got in my car and followed him from a distance.

Eventually, his car pulled into the Turner family villa.

By the pool, Elena was splashing around in a bikini.

The moment she saw him, she threw herself into his arms with a dazzling smile.

I didn’t hear what he said, but something in him snapped.

He lifted her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

When they finally pulled apart, she leaned into him, breathless.

“Caleb,” she murmured, “Thank you for caring for me while Caleb was away. I should’ve said it sooner. You’ll marry her at church soon, but before that, I want to know you still have me in your heart.”

She took his hand and pressed it against her chest, feigning nervousness.

Caleb’s throat bobbed again, and he gripped her hand tightly, desire flickering in his eyes.

“Do you know how much I wish I could replace Caleb? But I can’t…”

Elena laughed softly, then spun and dove into the pool.

“The water’s cold in early autumn. I saved you from the sea once—your turn to rescue me.”

Without hesitation, Caleb jumped in after her.

For a long time, neither of them resurfaced.

I had long given up hope, but seeing it unfold in front of me still shattered my heart.

Tears streamed down my face as I clutched my chest and turned the car around.

I drove and drove, until I returned to the place I once called home.

Opening the door, everything inside seemed like mockery.

The wall still displayed my oil painting of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

He had framed it in gold and told me mine looked more romantic than the original.

Our handmade pottery mugs—one blue, one pink—sat on the counter, still slightly misshapen but precious.

He always used the pink one, saying the color matched the water beautifully.

Now, all of it was just a monument to my own foolishness.

Rage bubbled up.

I began to destroy everything in sight.

I hurled vases, smashed trinkets, and shattered photo frames.

Shards of our past littered the floor as my tears poured freely.

I didn’t want any of it anymore.

After a long while, I wiped my face and pulled myself together.

Then I opened my phone and dialed a long-forgotten number buried deep in my contacts.

“I’ve got a job worth 100 million. You want it?”

“What kind of job?”

“Kidnap me in three days.”

My hand settled gently on my belly.

“Caleb will pay any price to get me back.”