Fiancée for Seven Years, Left for His Ex

Emma's POV

I scoffed and quickly typed a reply: [No need, I’m staying at a hotel tonight.]

It didn’t take long for Jason to respond.

[Emma, don’t make a scene. What hotel are you staying at so late? Be a good girl and come back.]

I paused for a moment, but with all the resolve I had left, I typed: [Jason, let’s break up.]

The wedding was just a month away. Invitations had already gone out, the photos had already been taken, the banquet had been booked, and everything was set. I was just waiting to become a bride.

Now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

Out of nowhere, a black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

It was Chase.

He quickly stepped out, his face etched with concern. "Emma, are you okay? That jerk Jason, how could he hit you?"

As he spoke, he removed his coat and draped it over my shoulders.

The faint scent of his cologne—something unfamiliar but comforting—brought a small amount of peace to my shattered heart.

"I... I’m planning to break off my engagement with Jason," I said, my voice a little shaky but firm.

Chase stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before it quickly settled into a calm, concerned expression.

He then asked, "Emma, are you really sure? This isn’t something small."

Taking a deep breath, I answered with more conviction than I felt, "I’m sure. I don’t want to be lied to anymore, and I can’t keep wasting my time."

...

The next morning, I called the wedding planner and canceled everything—everything. I also informed all the guests.

Emily, the wedding planner, nearly cried when I told her over the phone. She went on about penalties, losses, and how "absurd" it was that I was backing out at the last minute.

I cut her off, coldly giving her Jason’s card number and telling her to deduct whatever was needed.

Once I hung up, the world around me felt quieter, like the pressure had finally let up.

Next came the dreaded task of notifying the guests. I created a group chat, added everyone, and typed:

[To my friends and family, I just wanted to let you know that Jason and I have called off the wedding. Sorry if this causes any inconvenience. Thanks for understanding.]

I set the group to [Do Not Disturb] and watched the notifications light up my phone screen, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t even flinch.

I knew what people would think. Most would assume I’d lost my mind. One month away from the wedding, and I was canceling it like it was nothing. Yeah, madness seemed about right.

Sure enough, Jason called, exactly as I expected. But instead of feeling even an ounce of guilt, it only fueled my anger.

I answered the phone with a bitter laugh. "What is it, Jason?"

He sighed. "Emma, can we... talk? I know you're really angry, but some things can’t be explained over the phone. Can we meet? Same place, the hotpot restaurant we used to go to?"

I hesitated, but deep down, I knew I needed closure. I agreed.

...

Later that evening, I put on delicate makeup, slipped into a bright red dress, and wore heels that clicked confidently as I walked.

I arrived at the entrance of the hotpot restaurant, and there he was—Jason, already seated at the table.

At first, I thought it was just him, but then, to my shock, I saw Ava walking out of the bathroom, looking like she owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

Ava was practically glued to Jason’s arm, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Jason said he wanted to bring me here for his favorite hotpot. You know this place, don’t you, Emma?"

I couldn’t help but scoff. "Yeah, I’m very familiar with it. After all, Jason and I came here countless times. Unlike some people who probably don’t even know what the signature dish is."

Ava’s smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, tightening her grip on Jason’s arm as if to stake her claim.