Billonaire Ex Pursuit

Rosalyn’s POV

The air was heavy with anticipation as I stood before the altar, the weight of my wedding gown bearing down on me. I tried to smile, but my lips trembled under the strain of keeping up appearances. The soft glow of the chandeliers illuminated the grand hall, adorned with cascading flowers and shimmering drapes. My eyes scanned the entryway, the wide double doors where I had imagined Niklaus McDonald would appear. Each passing second felt like a lifetime, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

I shifted my gaze to the front row where his mother, Mrs. McDonald, and his sister, Cherry, sat. Their faces betrayed a flicker of surprise, but they looked unbothered, their expressions cool and detached. My heart sank further as I turned to the officiating priest, who leaned closer and whispered, “Rosalyn, have you heard from Niklaus?”

My throat tightened, but I forced a small nod. “He’s on his way,” I lied, the words bitter on my tongue.

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, each hushed voice a dagger to my chest. I clenched my bouquet tighter, trying to ignore the humiliation creeping over me. This day, this moment, was supposed to be the culmination of seven long years of waiting. I had dreamed of it for three years, every detail etched into my heart. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

My phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me. Relief flickered in my chest as I quickly glanced at the screen, hoping it was Niklaus explaining his delay. Instead, his message popped up:

[I’m with Melanie. She’s down. The wedding is postponed.]

The words blurred before my eyes. What? My wedding was postponed... for Melanie? My knees wobbled as the realization hit me. He was doing it again—choosing her over me.

Before I could process the betrayal, Hayden, Niklaus’ closest friend, appeared. His hurried steps echoed down the aisle as he approached me, his face pale. “Rosalyn,” he began hesitantly, “I just reached Niklaus. He said…” Hayden paused, glancing at me with pity. “…he said the wedding is canceled.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Mrs. McDonald and Cherry hurried over, their voices low but audible.

“Did Niklaus give any reason?” Mrs. McDonald asked Hayden sharply.

Hayden hesitated before replying, “He said he’s tending to Melanie.”

Cherry shrugged, her indifference stinging. “Well, that’s not a bad reason.”

Mrs. McDonald nodded, giving me a cursory look of pity. “Sorry about this, Rosalyn,” she said flatly, as if she were consoling someone who had misplaced a wallet, not been humiliated in front of a roomful of people.

Cherry patted my shoulder with a breezy smile. “I’m sure you understand. You know how Melanie is.”

My heart shattered at their nonchalance. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. Mrs. McDonald turned to the guests, her voice carrying over the murmurs. “Ladies and gentlemen, the wedding is canceled. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

The guests grumbled as they rose, their disapproval cutting through me. One by one, they filed out, leaving me standing there, alone.

“Just go home and rest, dear,” Mrs. McDonald added, her voice dismissive as she left with Cherry.

The silence in the hall was deafening. My legs gave out, and I sank to my knees before the altar. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, smearing the makeup I had carefully applied hours ago. My hands trembled as I clutched my bouquet, the petals now a cruel mockery of the love I thought I had.

For six months, I had poured every ounce of myself into planning this day. Every detail had been perfect, every moment envisioned. And now, it was all reduced to ash because of her. Melanie.

She had been a thorn in my side since she returned to California two years ago. Niklaus always ran to her, her every whim and fabricated crisis pulling him further away from me. She manipulated him so effortlessly, leaving just enough holes in her stories for me to see through, though Niklaus never did.

Why couldn’t I be enough for him?

I sat there for what felt like an eternity, my sobs echoing in the empty hall. Finally, I forced myself to stand, my legs shaky as I gathered what little composure I had left. The journey back to his house, where I had been living, felt like a blur.

Once inside his room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my eyes falling on the photo of Niklaus hanging on the wall. His smiling face stared back at me, the man I had given everything to.

“Why, Niklaus?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Why did you have to bring me so much shame and pain today?”

Frustration boiled over, and I shrieked, yanking the bed sheets off in a fit of rage. I collapsed onto the bare mattress, tears streaming freely. My phone buzzed again. Wiping my eyes, I checked it—a notification from Instagram.

Melanie had posted something to her story. My hands shook as I opened it.

There she was, smiling smugly from a bed, her hair tousled just enough to appear effortless. Before her was Niklaus, holding a plate of pancakes and wiping a smear of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

The caption read: {Again, my darling saved me.}

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, raw and jagged. It sounded foreign, even to me.

The hours dragged by, but Niklaus never called. Not once. Each minute without a word from him was another dagger in my heart. Finally, I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. It rang and rang, but he didn’t answer.

I glanced at the ring on my finger, the one I had worn for five years since he proposed. Back then, I believed in his promises, understood his excuses about work, his responsibilities as the head of his family’s billion-dollar empire.

But since Melanie’s return, everything had changed. He was always available for her, her every whim taking precedence over us. Two years ago, we could have married, but Melanie had manipulated him into postponing it.

I opened Instagram again, staring at her story. The image of them together burned into my mind. This was too much. My tears fell, one landing on my phone screen.

No more.

I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and pulled up Niklaus’ contact. My fingers flew across the screen, typing out the message with shaking hands:

[You’ve really proven it’s always going to be Melanie. Go for her then. Goodbye.]

I hovered over the send button, my heart pounding as I braced for the finality of what I was about to do.