Left At The Altar For His Ex

This morning's tenderness was still a fresh wound.

When I woke up, he had already prepared breakfast—my favorite, Eggs Benedict.

While I was doing my makeup, he’d clung to me like a needy Golden Retriever, whispering, "You're finally going to be my wife..."

He even checked our documents three times before carefully tucking them into the inner pocket of his suit.

That's why it was so hard to accept being tossed aside like trash on the steps of City Hall.

And I was forced to face the truth: all that affection could be faked.

For five years with Caleb, I'd distanced myself from all the family and friends who cared about me, buried my own ambitions, and tolerated his every mood swing and selfish whim.

He was still the same dashing tech mogul, while I was the one left bearing all the scars.

A bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. I knew we were at the end of the line.

I sat outside for what felt like an eternity before finally dragging myself back to our penthouse on Puget Sound.

As soon as I walked in, my cat, Orion, trotted over to rub against my ankles, meowing insistently.

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "Orion," I choked out, "you're the only one who hasn't changed."

I sank to the floor and scooped him into my arms. He instinctively nuzzled his head under my chin.

Stroking his soft fur, I drew what little warmth I could from him, and the ache in my heart eased slightly.

Before long, the door clicked open. Footsteps stopped in the entryway.

Caleb didn't turn on the lights.

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to make her stay in a hotel by herself this late at night."

I stopped stroking Orion and looked toward the shadowy figure.

Caleb's tone softened, taking on a soothing quality. "This apartment is mine. I decide who stays here."

"It's fine, she's not that petty. She'll be okay with it."

With that, he flicked on the lights. The next second, the fond smile on his face froze the moment our eyes met. The sudden brightness was blinding.

"Am I interrupting something?"

He hung up the phone and took a few hurried steps toward me, then stopped, his posture shifting to one of defiance.

"Didn't you say we were over? See? You still can't leave me."

Bitterness washed over me, and a sharp pain lanced through my chest.

I couldn't say a word, tears streaming down my face.

Seeing this, Caleb rushed to my side, clumsily hugging me. "Don't be angry," he murmured. "How about I buy you a Porsche?"

"I'm letting Sienna stay here for a bit. It's not safe for a woman to be out alone at night."

"Oh, right, lock Orion in the utility closet. She's severely allergic to cat fur."

...

Every word out of his mouth was about Sienna.

He was even willing to lock my Orion in a tiny, dark closet for her.

Rage flooded me, and I shoved him away. "Orion is timid and has claustrophobia! How can you be so heartless?"

He staggered back, his eyes filled not with disbelief, but with the indignation of being challenged. "What's the big deal? It's not like he'll freeze to death. This is my apartment. If you don't like it, you can get out!"

In that moment, the charming, gentlemanly man I thought I knew vanished.

I didn't look at him again. I grabbed the cat carrier, coaxed Orion inside, and turned to leave.

Caleb, assuming I would tolerate this as I always had, continued his defense of Sienna.

"This is your first time meeting her. Sienna is a very gentle, considerate person. You two will get along great."

The resentment pressing on my chest made it hard to breathe. I turned, my face a mask of indifference. "I have no interest in playing house with the other woman."

Before I could take a step, Caleb grabbed my wrist—the same one he had bruised earlier.

I gasped in pain but couldn't break free. Inside the carrier, Orion began to whimper.

His brow furrowed, his gaze turning to ice. His words dripped with sarcasm. "Don't you dare talk about Sienna like that. She's not a schemer like you! If you had any spine, you'd just leave. This is pathetic."

I wrenched my hand free and, enunciating each word, said softly but firmly, "Not anymore, Caleb. We're done."

I ignored the sound of an expensive whiskey glass shattering against the wall behind me and left without a shred of hesitation.