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Leave the Betrayed Love Novel Cover

Leave the Betrayed Love

Left waiting alone at a restaurant until closing on his birthday, the protagonist hopes Stella Park will keep her promise to celebrate with him. Instead, a last-minute text arrives claiming she is too busy to make it. The truth is far more painful when he opens social media only to discover a newly uploaded photo. Stella is spending her weekend at a male coworker's house, leaving him to face the devastating reality of her betrayal.
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Chapter 1

At my birthday party, I waited in the restaurant until closing, but Stella Park didn't come to fulfill her promise to celebrate for me.

Just as I was about to leave, I saw the message she sent me five minutes ago: [I have something to do, so I can't be there.]

I then saw her posting on social media, and the photo was taken at her male colleague's home.

She wrote: [Have a nice weekend.]

In the past, I might have kept calling and messaging Stella to question her.

But now I just gave this post a like.

After I left without telling her, she panicked and looked for me.

She said she could change and begged me not to abandon her.

A rare rainstorm hit Aulama. After getting off work, my colleagues left one after another, leaving me working overtime.

Stella sent a message: [It's raining too heavily, I'll pick you up.]

I knew she was easing our relationship.

Last weekend, Stella went to the hospital to check if she was ready for pregnancy. She asked me to wait downstairs in the hospital, but she didn't come downstairs for a long time.

It was not until the doctors had left work that I saw her colleague David Collins's posting on social media. In the photo, Stella had a gentle look and a sweet smile.

He wrote: [Stella, be happy every day.]

When I got home, I questioned Stella about that photo.

But she pushed my hand away impatiently.

"We just happened to meet in the hospital. He has a high fever. As his colleague, isn't it normal for me to drive him home? It's hard to get a taxi in such heavy rain. Don't make trouble for no reason!"

It was indeed difficult to get a taxi in heavy rain, but how could she let her husband walk in the rain?

We had a cold war for half a month because of this.

Yesterday, Stella sent me a screenshot of the restaurant reservation.

I knew she wanted to ease our relationship by taking advantage of my birthday.

In the past, I always tried every means to reconcile with her. If in the past, she could take the initiative to ease our relationship like this, I would be overjoyed and flattered.

But unexpectedly, I was abnormally calm today.

I only replied: [OK.]

We agreed to meet at seven o'clock. I paused my work for this. It was difficult to park in front of the company, so I walked quickly to the bus stop.

At ten o'clock, the rain was getting heavier. Although I held an umbrella, my shoulders and trouser legs were still wet by the heavy rain.

Stella didn't come.

I turned on my phone and was about to send a message when I received a message.

[There's a traffic jam. You should take a taxi first.]

I turned off my phone and took a taxi. Due to the heavy rain and the rush hour, it took me half an hour to reach the restaurant.

As I was late, to express my apology, I bought her favorite dessert at the door.

When I pushed the door open, there was nothing other than a few balloons and a sign with 'Happy Birthday'.

My phone rang again.

I checked it and saw two photos that David had posted not long ago. He wrote: [I am so moved.]

One of the photos showed the center console of my car. I bought it for the convenience of commuting to work. Stella said she wanted to drive it, so I gave it to her without hesitation and took the bus every day.

There was an ornament that I bought last year. Because Stella's driving skills were not good, she hit the telephone poles twice.

When I put this ornament on the car, Stella complained that it was too tacky and said, "This is so ugly, others will laugh at me when they see it."

After I pleaded again and again, she reluctantly agreed as if she were the owner of this car.

Thinking of this, I suddenly felt relieved and gave this post a like.

I asked the waiter to bring the dishes and cakes, and I ate them slowly in the box alone.

I loved sweets, but Stella didn't like them. She said they make people fat, so desserts like cakes never appeared in our house.

I could only have a few bites of cakes on my birthday, and then Stella would snatch it away and throw it away.

"Stop eating, look at your figure!"

I was eating the sweet cream in big mouthfuls.

I thought, "Fuck it!"

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