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My Fiancée and Her Plus One Novel Cover

My Fiancée and Her Plus One

A catastrophic lab explosion shatters more than just glass in My Fiancée and Her Plus One. While bleeding out on the floor, the protagonist watches his fiancée, Beatrice Whitmore, ignore his agony to rescue Joseph. After eighteen years of devotion, he realizes he has no place in her heart. Following a grueling recovery in the ICU, he cancels their wedding month and accepts a five-year clandestine assignment from Professor Beaumont, choosing to vanish rather than remain a second choice.
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Chapter 3

Before I could answer, Joseph slung an arm around Beatrice.

"Aunt Beatrice, I just remembered—there's a basketball game this afternoon I HAVE to see."

She tapped his nose, smiling. "Why didn't you say that earlier?"

"Just remembered. Not like it's my fault. If you're too busy, I'll go alone. Worst case, a bunch of pretty girls hit on me. Who knows, maybe I meet my soulmate."

He stood to leave.

Beatrice panicked, grabbing his hand. "I didn't say I wouldn't go!"

Then she turned to me, torn. "Howard, you see..."

I let out a cold laugh. "Takes two people to get a marriage license. Didn't know there was a law saying you had to be Joseph's date for a basketball game."

Her face darkened. "Jojo's just being playful. He's waited forever for this game. You want him living with regret just because we didn't grab a piece of paper today?"

"If you never planned on listening, why even ask?"

"Howard—"

"Enough. I'm not stopping you. We've already canceled three times. What's one more? Joseph's the priority—go."

The old me would've argued till I couldn't breathe. Now? I didn't have it in me.

Truth was, I didn't even want to marry her anymore.

Seeing me calm, Beatrice softened. "Finally being mature, huh? Don't worry, the wedding's in three days. I'll definitely go with you to get the license before then."

She made her promise, then walked out—still clinging to Joseph.

Joseph had his arm hooked around her, making her laugh nonstop. Before they left, he shot me a grin, flipped me off.

"Aunt Beatrice's not coming home tonight—we're partying hard. Don't wait up!"

I'd had enough.

I filmed a quick clip of him, dropped it into the folder already stacked with way-too-close pics and videos of him and Beatrice.

Sent the whole batch to the wedding planner.

[Hi, I need to update the video and photo reel for the wedding day. Thanks.]

Then I posted: [Four days left.]

Since they loved parading their "love" in front of me, fine. In four days, the whole world could watch their perfect little family act.

The next day, Beatrice called.

"I won't be home today or tomorrow. The game runs three days, and Jojo's having a blast. I've looked after him since he was little—I can't risk someone picking on him if I'm not there."

I gave a noncommittal sound and hung up. Then I went to her company and submitted my resignation letter.

On the way back, I posted: [Three days left.]

When the event ended, she still didn't come home. Another call.

"Today... I won't be back today either. Jojo threw me a bachelor party—said it's my last chance to go wild before the wedding. I know we've got rehearsal tomorrow and a million things to do, but...I can't turn down his kindness, right?"

Even she heard how ridiculous it sounded. Her usual confidence cracked, voice faltering.

In the background, Joseph whined, "Aunt Beatrice, if we lose and have to kiss, you don't need to bite me that hard!"

Click. She hung up.

I stayed silent.

I cleared it all out—her clothes, toiletries, the lights I picked, the furniture, the dishes.

Everything in that mansion tied to me went straight out the door.

Staring at the empty space, I posted: [Final day.]

After today, love, hate, resentment—none of it mattered. I never wanted anything to do with Beatrice or Joseph again.

She commented: [Honey, don't worry, this party won't affect our wedding. I'll be there on time tomorrow, waiting for you to come get me!]

Show up or not, I wasn't marrying her.

I didn't reply. Stayed up until dawn.

On the wedding day, the officiant told me to kneel and present the ring. Beatrice stood there in her white dress, smiling.

I looked straight at her.

"Let's break up, Beatrice. I don't want a woman this filthy."

Then, in front of her whole crowd, I picked up my suitcase and boarded the helicopter Prof. Beaumont had waiting.

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