She Got the Ring, But I Got the Last Laugh

Vivian's POV

“Those guys spilled drinks on Zachary’s friend, so Zachary started a fight with them,” his friend rushed over, his face flushed with panic. “He drank too much tonight—I’m worried he’s going to get into serious trouble.”

Hearing the reason, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. My mind flashed back to a time when I accompanied Zachary to a business meeting. The client, furious that the deal had fallen through, deliberately spilled wine on me. Yet, Zachary didn’t get mad at all. Instead of defending me, he even blamed me for being immature, for costing him the deal.

Now, I watched Zachary try to fight the man again, when his friend rushed over to stop him.

“Zachary! That’s enough!” his friend yelled, his voice tight with frustration. “You’re about to get married! Don’t cause any trouble!"

Unexpectedly, Zachary shoved him aside, his words slurred and laced with fury. “Who the hell said I’m getting married? This jerk spilled alcohol on my girlfriend! Nobody’s leaving until he apologizes!”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as Zachary’s words hung in the air, and all of their eyes were now on me.

Despite that, I only smiled coldly. Then without a word, I stepped forward and slapped the man Zachary had been fighting with.

The room fell silent and the man’s face flushed with anger. “You crazy woman! How dare you hit me!"

He then lunged at me with rage in his eyes, but I simply stood still, waiting to see how Zachary would react. Would he defend me like he had in the past, fighting for me no matter the cost?

However, Zachary shoved my shoulder, yelling angrily, "What are you doing? Haven’t I had enough trouble today without you adding to it? You’re always making things worse!"

His words shattered my heart completely.

Afterward, he turned to the man, dismissing the entire incident with a wave of his hand. "Now we’re even! Get lost!"

The man, fortunately, kept his cool and, after some grumbling, left without further drama.

After they were gone, Zachary collapsed heavily onto the sofa.

“Vivian, don’t take it to heart,” his friend muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Zachary’s had too much to drink, that’s all. This is Yvette Harper, by the way—an old friend from high school. She just got back from abroad.”

I glanced coolly at Yvette, who still had tears clinging to her eyes, looking as if she had suffered some great injustice.

"Yvette, this is Zachary’s fiancée, Vi—"

Before his friend could finish, Zachary interrupted, sitting up with a scowl. “Colleague,” he spat. “She’s just a colleague, not my fiancée.”

His words felt like a dagger, making me tremble uncontrollably and turning the atmosphere unbearably awkward.

After a long silence, Zachary’s friend quickly tried to smooth things over, handing me a glass of wine. “Here, Vivian. Let’s have a drink.”

Just as I was about to take the glass, Zachary’s eyes snapped to his friend. “What are you doing? She’s allergic to alcohol.”

It was true. Zachary knew I was allergic to alcohol. But what happened next surprised me even more.

“Zachary, you’re drunk,” she said sweetly, placing a hand on his arm. “Louie was offering the drink to Vivian, not me.”

Zachary blinked, then shrugged. "Oh, she can drink. She drinks a lot actually. She’s the best drinker in the whole company."

His words shattered the last remnants of my heart. He had forgotten. He had forgotten the night I nearly died. The night I ended up in the hospital because he had forced me to drink for his clients. He had forgotten my allergy entirely.

Or maybe he just never cared enough to remember.

When I came here tonight, I had still held onto a tiny shred of hope. But now, it was completely gone.

Pulling me out of my thought, Yvette suddenly stood up and spoke to me. “Since you’re here, why don’t you take Zachary home?” she suggested, her voice sickly sweet. “I’ve just gotten back, and I can’t look after him tonight. Oh, and when he wakes up tomorrow, make sure to brew him some ginger honey tea. He always has a headache after drinking, and he’ll need it. And don’t forget to cover him with a blanket. He sleeps terribly after a night out.”

Her words sliced through me, each one a reminder of how well she knew him—better than I ever had. She was just passing the mess to me for tonight.

I stared at her innocent expression for a long time, wanting nothing more than to wipe that look off her face. But I held back, my anger simmering just beneath the surface.

I wanted to see how long they could keep up this charade.