My Boyfriend Married Someone Else

My boyfriend and I had been together for eight years. We were already discussing marriage when Robbie suddenly asked me to wait a little longer.

He said he needed to hold a grand wedding with his first love before he could marry me.

Because, as he explained, for his first love—who struggled with anxiety—marriage was her greatest wish in life.

He couldn't bear to see her spiral into self-harm under the weight of her illness, so with tears in his eyes, he promised to give her a home.

Stunned, I asked what would happen to me.

Instead of answering, he snapped impatiently, "Can't you show some empathy? It's just a year or two more. Are you really that desperate to get married?

"And another thing… lend me your ring. Let Lucy wear it for now. You won't be needing it anytime soon."

I stared at the man before me, someone both familiar and suddenly a stranger, and felt only a cold, hollow ache in my chest.

But at last, I saw his true face behind the mask.

Later, I chose to attend their wedding. I brought with me a very special blessing.

On Valentine's night, I sat alone in the restaurant, a solitary figure in the warm glow meant for two.

My boyfriend had invited me here, promising a surprise so big it would sweep me off my feet.

Yet now, as I watched the couples across the street strolling hand in hand, radiant with love, my isolation felt almost mocking.

"Miss, it's already past midnight. Do you need anything else? We're about to close."

The waiter, noticing my daze, offered a kind reminder.

"Ah… it's so late already," I murmured without thinking.

He blinked in surprise. "But the gentleman who made the reservation still hasn't come? He specifically arranged something special…"

Yes. Special arrangements. Not that they were needed anymore.

I lowered my head and glanced again at the post on my phone.

Then, standing up, I gave a faint, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry. My boyfriend married someone else tonight. I won't keep you from closing."

The waiter gaped, speechless, as I hurried out, terrified that my grief would spill over in front of strangers.

Just a week ago, Robbie had told me he had a surprise for me.

I thought I knew what it was. He'd once promised me a proposal I'd remember for the rest of my life. But now… everything had changed.

I couldn't resist opening that post again, studying it carefully, as if I could will it to say something different.

But no matter how many times I looked, the man in the photos was the one I knew best.

For the first time in my life, the sight of a marriage certificate made me cry.

Robbie and I had been together since university—eight years of storms and sunshine.

Every moment we'd shared, every fleeting happiness, still shimmered vividly in my mind.

Our love had been the envy of all our friends. In their eyes, we were the couple destined to last.

Even yesterday at work, he'd kissed my forehead, his gaze brimming with tenderness.

"Honey," he whispered, "after all these years of calling you mine, you're finally going to be mine for real."

Yet in a single night, I'd become the world's biggest joke.

No… He wouldn't do this. There had to be an explanation.

Had someone hacked his account? Or stolen his phone? Why else would he ignore my calls?

My heart clenched. I hailed a cab and rushed home.

Just as I reached for the door, I heard voices inside—his, and his close friend Allan Woods's.

"Robbie, are you out of your mind? Aren't you supposed to be marrying Ruby? What the hell is going on?"

Robbie's voice trembled as if on the edge of tears.

"What can I do? Lucy's anxiety has spiraled out of control. She says having a home with me is her only hope in life…

"I don't want to push her over the edge. It'll only worsen her condition. And you know I've loved her since we were kids!"

His tone broke into agitation.

I froze where I stood.

Loved her since they were kids…

Then what was I?