He Is Not My Knight in Shining Armor, Just a Deceitful Opportunist

All around me, familiar faces—former classmates and old acquaintances—watched me with mocking expressions.

“Faye actually brought her wedding dress. I told you, just mention a photoshoot and she’d fall for it.”

“So desperate to replace Arlene, but she only made a fool of herself.”

“Oh, poor, Faye. Her boyfriend’s getting married, but she’s not the bride. Hahaha…”

I clutched the wedding dress in my hands, my palms damp with unease. “W-what are you talking about? Who’s getting married? What do you mean it’s not me?”

Some of Lenard’s admirers, who had always made it their mission to make my life miserable, were among the crowd. Back when they found out we were dating, they pulled every trick in the book to undermine me—sabotaging group projects, stirring up trouble at school, you name it. It only stopped when we graduated and went our separate ways.

But now, with a chance to humiliate me again, they didn’t hold back. My discomfort only fueled their excitement. One woman, especially gleeful, snatched the gown right out of my hands.

“Wedding dresses are for real brides, honey. A squatter like you should know your place. Go back to where you came from!”

She looked like she wanted to keep going, but her words were cut short when Lonard appeared, walking side by side with Arlene.

The two of them looked like they’d stepped out of a magazine—beautiful, perfectly in sync and utterly captivating even in their casual clothes.

Lenard’s gaze landed on me, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. Just as he opened his mouth to explain, Arlene stepped forward dramatically and fell to her knees.

“Faye, my mom is in the late stages of cancer. She wants to see me get married before she goes. Lenard agree to help only felt sorry for me. Please, just help me this one time!”

She glanced up at me with wide, teary eyes and continued, “I know you and Lenard have been together for years. I don’t want to ruin that—I swear. But this is an emergency. I hope you and Lenard won’t break up over this. Please, don’t blame him—he’s done nothing wrong."

Whatever trace of regret had been on Lenard’s face vanished the moment he saw Arlene kneeling. He rushed to help her up, glaring at me as he did.

“Is it really necessary to make her kneel? If you think my decision to help her is an attack on your ego, then maybe we should just break up right now. That way, you can go be with any man you want.”

There it was again—his go-to move. Breaking up was his solution to every problem. It didn’t matter that he was in the wrong. It didn’t matter that they’d tricked me. In his eyes, the only and one issue was me. Always about me and my ego. 

This wasn’t the first time. His friends’ mockery, the broken picture frame, all those subtle jabs—I’d seen it all before. Lenard never tried to fix the real issues. He just tried to “fix” me.

Fine, then. Let’s make this the final fix.

I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, straightened my shoulders and gave him a tight smile. “Okay. Let’s break up.”

Without waiting to see the stunned faces around me, I turned and walked away. The moment I was out of sight, I pulled out my phone and posted on my social media:

[Single and ready to mingle. Open to anyone suitable.]

Lenard’s friends wasted no time leaving snide comments on my post.

[Looking to get married? I know some single guys in their 30s—perfect match for you!]

[My uncle just got out of prison. He loves the innocent type. Want me to introduce you?]

[Desperate much? If you’re this hungry for touch, I could step in]

Amidst all the obnoxious remarks, one reply win my attention.

[26, stable income, no bad habits. Let’s meet Friday afternoon at the Lucient’s restaurant.]

It wasn’t the comment itself that caught my eye, but the sender’s name. I looked into my contacts and it sword up as Rafael Donovan—Lenard’s uncle.

That night, Lenard didn’t come home, but I didn’t bother calling him. Instead, I packed my things, ready to erase every trace of myself from his apartment.

Just as I zipped up my suitcase, the door burst open.

Arlene stormed in with her entourage of bridesmaids and without a word, they started tearing through the apartment.

“You’ve got some nerve!” One of Arlene’s bridesmaids sneered, glaring at me. “Lenard and Arlene are married now and you’re still living in here? How could you be so thick-skinned?!”