I Do, I Don't

The sharp edge in his voice left me momentarily dazed. It was the first time he ever spoke to me like this.

I saw something he did not want me to see, and he was actually angry.

Glancing at his visibly shaken fiancée, Jason pulled me by the arm and dragged me out of the restaurant.

His grip was so strong that my wrist was ringed in red. But he did not even spare it a look.

Standing by the roadside, he lit a cigarette, his tone cold and detached.

"You've seen it all, so there's no point hiding it anymore. I'm getting married. Of course, not to you. She's young, and she comes from a good family. She's far more suitable for me than you are."

Even though I already prepared myself for this moment, hearing it from him straight still brought tears to my eyes.

Apparently, being together for too long became the very reason we could not get married.

What he meant was easy enough to understand: I was no longer fresh, exciting.

I stared at him in silence.

Now, dressed in an impeccable suit, successful in his career, and accompanied by a beauty. He looked nothing like the boy who once promised he would give me a home.

Seeing my tears, Jason raked his hand through his hair in irritation and stubbed out his cigarette.

"I never meant to hurt you. Really. Marcella's a good person. She doesn't even mind you being around. Can't we just stay like we were before? I can give you everything else, just not marriage."

The shamelessness of it snapped something in me. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The force of it jerked his head to the side.

Marcella Hopkins, the woman he just mentioned, hurried out of the restaurant at once, throwing herself protectively in front of him.

"Ms. Knox, I know you're upset. If you want to hit someone, hit me instead!"

She looked so valiant and self-sacrificing, as though I were some vicious villainess bent on destroying the perfect couple's love story.

And Jason, his eyes were full of emotion as he looked at her.

I remembered, back when he was first starting his business, how he offended someone and nearly been smashed over the head at a banquet.

When I stood in front of him then, he'd looked at me the same way.

So it wasn't that I was special. It was the situation.

Pulling Marcella behind him, Jason looked back at me with growing disgust.

"Stop making a scene, Jennifer. You need to know when to quit." He left with her, tossing the words like a warning.

With that, I was left alone, standing frozen in place, unable to move for a long time.

By the time Nathaniel arrived after parking the car, he immediately panicked.

"Jennifer, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

I forced a bitter smile. "It's nothing."

Seeing that I did not want to explain, he did not press further.

But I had no mood left to continue dinner.

After a quick apology, Nathaniel, ever the gentleman, still insisted on driving me home.

When I hesitated, he chuckled lightly. "Jennifer, don't be polite with me. If my mom finds out I didn't see you home, I'll be in trouble."

Thinking of how much Mrs. Barlowe always doted on me, I could not bring myself to refuse him.

Before we even reached my building, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Marcella's alternate account.

She sent me a video.

I meant to watch it later, but just as the car rolled over a speed bump, my finger slipped, and the video opened.

On screen, Jason was drinking with his buddies. Their topic of conversation? Me.

"So Jennifer really caught the two of you together? Damn, she must've flipped!"

Jason let out a cold laugh. "This slap mark on my face is from her. That temper of hers is no joke."

His friends were incredulous.

"She actually dared to hit you? I thought Jennifer was your lovesick puppy!"

"Hey, you think if she finds out you're getting married, she'll try to crash the wedding?"

"Let's bet on it. I say she will."

"What? No way. Showing up at the wedding would be way too pathetic."

"Come on, this is the same woman who proposed to Jason for seven years. Enough talk. Are we betting or not?"

And just like that, they set up a wager.

Someone even boldly asked Jason himself.

"Jason, what do you think? You in?"

Jason lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable.

It was not until the others quieted down that he finally spoke, voice faint.

"Isn't the outcome obvious? Ten million. She'll definitely come. And she'll come wearing a wedding dress."