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Eight Years Wasted The Betrayal That Set Me Free Novel Cover

Eight Years Wasted The Betrayal That Set Me Free

On the eve of their wedding, a groom is left stranded at the rehearsal. His fiancée sends a shocking text: her former flame Reuben is terminally ill, and she must abandon their marriage to take him abroad for treatment. Demanding up to two years of silence while she focuses on another man, she tells him to make up an excuse for the postponement. Instead of pleading for her return, he sends a single-word reply: "Okay." He chooses his dignity over a toxic lie, ending their relationship for good.
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Chapter 3

Like tonight, when she said she wanted to stay by Reuben's side while he got treatment.

She was the same woman who used to complain about him following her around like a lovesick puppy. She'd even said his affection made her sick.

In that moment, even though my heart felt like it was being carved open, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Maybe it was better this way. At least I wouldn't have to keep waiting in the dirt for her to finally marry me.

My mom was still rattling on about how to win a woman back, but the grievances lodged in my chest suddenly lost their will to be spoken.

"Mom, the wedding's off. I'm never marrying her."

I hung up and called the wedding planner to cancel tomorrow's ceremony.

The emcee paused for a beat before speaking.

"Ms. Rowe already called about this. But she asked us to keep the decorations and banners in storage for two years. That's going to be difficult. Most of those materials are single-use."

It clicked instantly. She'd picked that fight on purpose, just so I'd be the one fielding all the awkward questions.

And she still believed I'd wait for her, like those cheap decorations gathering dust in a warehouse. Two years. Just sitting there.

"Throw it all out. Even if it weren't disposable, it'd be rotted after two years."

Just like her love for me.

It would fade with time until there was nothing left.

After hanging up, I pulled up my mother-in-law's number and felt a headache building behind my eyes.

Edna Rowe despised Reuben. If she found out her daughter had already gotten a marriage license with him, she'd probably have a stroke.

I took a deep breath and wired the $120,000 dowry back to her account. Every cent.

I counted to three in my head.

The phone rang.

"Ethan, why did you send the dowry back?"

"Mom, Andrea and I aren't getting married right now. Maybe in a couple of years."

Mrs. Rowe was sharp. She caught the lie before it fully left my mouth.

"Did Andrea do something to you? I'm going over there right now. The wedding is happening tomorrow, and that's final!"

"Mrs. Rowe, the wedding really can't go forward..."

But she'd already hung up.

That was Andrea's problem now. She could figure out how to handle her own mother.

And I needed to pack and leave.

The apartment was still dressed for a celebration. Every detail was something I'd arranged with my own hands, each one a small monument to the happy life I'd imagined after the wedding.

Now every single one of them felt like a blade in my chest.

There wasn't much to take. I couldn't even fill one suitcase.

But there was plenty to throw away.

By the time I finished, I noticed Andrea had called me several times.

Didn't take a genius to figure out why. She wanted to know why I hadn't handled her mother.

I set the apartment key on the entryway table, grabbed the last framed wedding portrait, and headed for the door.

I walked straight into Andrea.

The portrait slipped from my hands and shattered on the floor, splitting into pieces.

A shard sliced across the top of my foot. Blood welled up immediately.

Andrea shoved Reuben behind her, shielding him, and glared at me.

"Ethan, what the hell? Didn't you see Reuben standing there? What if you'd hurt him?"

She didn't see the blood pooling on my foot. Instead, she crouched down and carefully picked a speck of glass no bigger than a pea off Reuben's shoe.

I had no interest in watching her dote on another man. I grabbed my suitcase and walked past them.

She caught the suitcase in her peripheral vision and scrambled to her feet, grabbing my arm.

"Ethan, where are you going?"

I was about to answer when her phone rang.

I saw the caller ID. Her mother.

She picked up, irritation bleeding through her voice.

"Fine! I know! It's not cancelled! I'll smooth things over with him! Don't worry!"

She hung up and turned to me.

"Ethan, my mom says the wedding has to go ahead tomorrow as planned."

"I don't want to upset her, so let's keep everything on track. But can you be the one who runs? Fly to France. I'll book your ticket and everything."

"My mom adores you. If you're the runaway groom, she'll insist I go after you. That way I can pretend I'm overseas chasing you down."

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