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He Let Her Steal the Food Off My Plate,So I Called Off the Wedding Novel Cover

He Let Her Steal the Food Off My Plate,So I Called Off the Wedding

Beth Henson has reached her breaking point with Samuel Pruitt. After enduring his relentless double standards—where he scolds her for a minor mistake but indulges another woman, Sarah Summers, for overstepping boundaries—Beth decides she has had enough of this suffocating relationship. Instead of wasting her savings on a wedding and a shared home with a man who does not respect her, she pulls her five hundred thousand dollars to invest in a new business venture with a former classmate.
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Chapter 2

It only stopped once I couldn't help but say something. But that night Samuel lectured me about it: "Sarah's a guest. Stop nickel-and-diming her from now on."

This time I said nothing. I sat down quietly on the couch.

Just then, my old classmate Duane Gilbert sent over the digital agreement.

【Look the agreement over. If there's nothing wrong with it, we'll print it out and sign.】

I had barely opened it.

Samuel's voice came from behind me. "What are you investing in? Didn't we agree you'd cover the down payment on the wedding home? Don't go throwing money around at a time like this."

I didn't answer. I put my phone away and glanced at the laundry basket a little way off.

Inside it were Sarah's JK-style skirt, lingerie, and socks.

"Can you not read into it?"

Samuel said quickly, "Sarah's clothes got soaked. Since the two of you are about the same size, I gave her that new nightdress and lingerie you bought."

That set of nightdress and lingerie was one Samuel had picked out himself. An intimate style.

Something that private, and he'd handed it to Sarah to wear. The meaning couldn't have been clearer.

The nightclothes weren't the point. Who wore them was.

"Cough, cough…"

Sarah's coughing drifted out from the bedroom.

"Sarah!"

Samuel's face tightened. He rushed back to the bedroom, all concern. "What is it? Where does it hurt?"

"My throat's a little sore."

Sarah said it like a wounded child.

"I'll find you some medicine right now."

Samuel flew back out to the living room and started rummaging through everything.

I watched him bustle around.

I looked down and answered Duane's message: 【The agreement's fine. Let's sign today.】

【Also, help me find a new place to live.】

Duane agreed without hesitation.

I turned my head toward the bedroom. Samuel was feeding Sarah the medicine, one spoonful at a time.

This rental was far too crowded for three people.

I was bowing out.

I'd leave them their nice, quiet world for two.

So I didn't disturb them. I turned and made do in the study for the night.

When I woke the next morning, my head was spinning, my nose felt stuffed with cotton, and my voice had gone hoarse.

"Beth!"

Samuel burst in, holding his phone up toward me. "Let's switch to that fully finished unit! It's only seven hundred thousand more in the budget. You put in a bit more for the down payment and we get a bigger three-bedroom, and there'll be a room just for Sarah."

"That way you won't have to wear yourself out sleeping in the study either."

For the past couple of years, Samuel had poured all his home-buying money into his startup. So the plan was for my family to cover the down payment first, and buy a used two-bedroom to marry in.

We'd pay the mortgage together after that.

But now, so Sarah could live with us, he was willing to stretch the budget and buy a bigger place.

And he dressed it up as sparing me the trouble.

"Arrange it however you want."

I didn't object.

None of it had anything to do with me anymore.

"So obedient today. That earns you a kiss."

Samuel was beaming. "I'll share the link with you. Talk it over with the agent."

"Sarah's still not feeling well this morning. I'm taking her to the hospital. Pick up some groceries at noon. She loves fish."

He gave his instructions and turned to go.

"Wait."

I couldn't stop myself from calling out to him. "Don't you notice anything different about me?"

"Your voice is a little hoarse, your nose is a little stuffed."

Samuel paused, then added, "You're tough. Just drink plenty of hot water."

"You went to work with gastroenteritis, after all."

Those last two lines cut sharper than any knife, and nearly shattered every last bit of light inside me.

The same cold.

Last night he'd rushed to find Sarah medicine, and kept her company all night telling her stories.

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