Eight Years Wasted The Billionaire's Betrayed Fiancée

Maybe it was better this way. At least I wouldn't have to keep waiting for him like some desperate fool, begging to be chosen.

My mother was still going on about how a woman who knew how to act sweet always got the best deal in life, but the grievance pressing against my chest suddenly lost its need for an audience.

"Mom, the wedding is off. I'm never marrying him."

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

The coordinator went quiet for a moment before speaking.

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

It hit me instantly. It wasn't that he hadn't had time to notify the guests on both sides.

He just didn't want to deal with the questions.

And he assumed I'd do what those cheap decorations would do—sit in storage and wait for him for three years.

"Throw it all out. Even if it weren't disposable, three years in a warehouse would rot it."

Just like his love for me.

It would decay with time until nothing remained.

After hanging up, I scrolled to my mother-in-law's number and felt a headache coming on.

She despised Claudia Simmons. If she found out her son had already gotten legally married to that woman at City Hall, she'd probably have a stroke.

I took a deep breath and transferred the $88,000 bride price back to her account—every last cent.

I counted to three in my head.

The phone rang.

"Tilda, why did you send the bride price back?"

"Mom, Harrison and I aren't getting married for now. I'm going abroad for three years."

Even though I was telling the truth, Fiona Delgado's sharp instincts picked up on the lie underneath immediately.

"Did that boy do something to wrong you? I'm going over there right now! The wedding tomorrow will go on as planned!"

"Mrs. Delgado, the wedding really can't happen—"

But she'd already hung up.

It was Harrison's turn to figure out how to handle his own mother.

And it was time for me to pack my bags and leave.

The apartment was still dressed for a celebration. Every detail—the red accents, the fresh flowers, the carefully chosen linens—was something I'd picked out, each one a small prayer for the happy life I thought was coming.

Now they were all knives, buried in my chest.

There wasn't much to take. A single suitcase, and it wasn't even full.

But there was plenty to throw away.

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

I didn't need to guess why. He was going to blame me for not keeping his mother under control.

I left the key on the entryway table and picked up the last framed wedding portrait on my way out.

I walked straight into Harrison.

The portrait smashed against the floor, the glass shattering into pieces.

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

Harrison grabbed Claudia and pulled her behind him, his face tight with irritation.

"Tilda, what the hell? Didn't you see Claudia standing there? What if you'd hurt her?"

He didn't see the blood pooling on my foot. Instead, he crouched down and carefully brushed a speck of glass—no bigger than a grain of rice—off Claudia's shoe.

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

His eyes caught the luggage, and he scrambled to his feet, seizing my arm.

"Tilda, where are you going?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but his phone rang.

I saw the name on the screen. His mother.

He picked up, visibly annoyed.

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

He hung up and turned to me.

"Tilda, my mom says the wedding tomorrow has to go on as planned."

"I don't want to upset her, so let's keep everything the way it is. But can you be the one who runs?"

"My mom loves you. If you're the runaway bride, she won't blame me. And I can explain to her afterward that I only married Claudia on impulse, out of spite."

I stared at him, unable to believe these words had come out of the mouth of the man I'd loved for years.

But then I remembered—he was already Claudia Simmons' husband.