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He Was Blind to the Truth, But I Was Not Novel Cover

He Was Blind to the Truth, But I Was Not

After five years of keeping our relationship a secret, Owen Chase shatters my world on my twenty-fourth birthday by marrying his first love, Delilah Frost. Claiming it is her final wish as she battles late-stage cancer, Owen expects my silent compliance. Even my brother, Elliot Rhodes, and our friends join the celebration, turning my birthday dinner into their wedding feast. Forced to hide my agony under Owen's watchful eye, I raise a glass to toast their union, wishing them a lifetime together.
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Chapter 3

Vivica's POV

My parents kept waiting for me to nod. But every time, I turned down their suggestions.

Now, I was twenty-four. Starting a new relationship wasn’t too late.

Seeing the careful look in their eyes, for once, I didn’t refuse.

“Alright,” I said.

After that, I submitted my resignation to the company.

Because I loved Owen so much, I stayed at his company right after graduation. To help him win bids, I pulled all-nighters doing research, writing proposals, and gathering data. I lost more than five kilograms during those months.

Back then, he used to look at me with such concern, even having his chef cook meals and deliver them to the office for me. Even though our relationship was kept secret, he never hid his affection.

But from now on, that special treatment would belong to Delilah.

Not long after I sent my resignation email, Owen called.

When I picked up, neither of us spoke. Usually, no matter who called first, I was always the one to find something to say.

But this time, I didn’t have the strength to start.

Just as I thought he would stay silent and I was about to hang up, his cold, irritated voice came through. “Vivica, what’s with you? Liking my post and then handing in a resignation? Delilah only has one month left to live. You can’t wait that long? Aren’t you afraid I’ll actually break up with you?”

I used to be terrified. That was why I always acted obedient in front of him, always careful, always pleasing.

But now, I was tired.

“Then,” I said, “let’s break up.”

The next day, HR emailed to say my resignation was approved.

With an icy tone, they told me to clean out my things today and never set foot in the company again.

Clearly, Owen was furious.

As I walked through each department, I heard some whispers.

“Mr. Chase only took care of her because she’s the partner’s little sister. Did she really think she could become his wife? Look at her now, tail between her legs.”

“So, what if he spoiled her before? She embarrassed Mrs. Chase the other night. Getting kicked out is what she deserves.”

Despite that, I ignored every insult and continued the handover. Once the paperwork was stamped, I would have nothing to do with Owen ever again.

“Stop.” His cold voice echoed behind me.

Delilah leaned against his chest, smiling at me with open challenge.

“This morning’s bidding documents were leaked,” she said. “I heard you handled those.”

I looked at Owen and asked, “You think it was me?”

“We’ll know once we check your computer,” he said.

He gave a single look, and the company’s IT staff immediately sat down at my desk.

It felt like a slap across my face.

Those files, those sleepless nights, I had created all of them myself. And he actually suspected me.

“Don’t touch my computer!”

But they ignored me, planning not only to search my files but also to restore anything I deleted.

If they restored everything, those deleted photos, the evidence of our five-year relationship, all of it would be exposed.

But with the security guards blocking me, I couldn’t do anything.

“Owen,” I said, shaking, “tell them to stop. I didn’t leak anything.”

Yet his face darkened as he grabbed my wrist. “Was it really you?”

Around us, people started whispering.

“It’s definitely Vivica. Why else would she react like that?”

“She couldn’t have him, so she sabotaged the project out of spite. She’s disgusting.”

Owen cut everyone off, his voice cold and sharp. “Enough. All of you, shut it. Did you restore the files?”

“They’re restored!” the IT staff replied.

I snapped my head around. “No! Don’t open them, Owen.”

He tightened his grip on my wrist, fingers digging painfully into my skin. “Open it.”

And in the next second, photo after photo flashed across the screen—our selfies, our secret moments, every memory I had tried to bury.

It felt like someone had ripped away the last shred of dignity I had left.

Humiliation crashed over me so hard that I almost cried right there.

On the other hand, Owen’s face was unreadable—dark, cold, impossible to decipher. Then, after a long moment, he laughed.

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