The Bride He Betrayed: He Gave Her the Ring, I Gave Him Goodbye

After hanging up, Clara felt as if the last bit of strength had been drained from her.

Like a wandering ghost, she made her way back to the small apartment she shared with Adrian. The moment she stepped inside, her eyes fell on a photo of them at eighteen, standing beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree.

"I, Adrian, will only ever marry Clara in this lifetime. I will never break this promise."

The vow beneath the cherry blossoms still echoed in her ears, yet reality struck her across the face like a brutal slap.

Clara wiped away the tears on her face, a bitter smile tugging at her lips as she slipped off the silver ring on her finger.

They had made it together in a small workshop the year they graduated. Back then, knowing he had no money, she had deliberately chosen the cheapest silver ring.

And yet today, she had watched him place a massive diamond ring onto Sienna's finger.

It had never been about money. Only about whether he cared.

Without hesitation, she tossed the ring into the toilet. Just as she was about to flush it away, the front door opened.

Adrian was back.

The moment he saw her, he froze briefly before quickly stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Clara, when did you get back? Are you hurt?"

His warm lips brushed against the back of her ear, filled with tender concern, as if she were something fragile.

For a moment, Clara felt disoriented.

It all felt like a dream—as if Adrian had never betrayed her, never proposed to Sienna.

But the next second, she caught the faint scent of perfume on him—citrus and rose. Sienna's favorite fragrance.

A wave of nausea hit her. The man behind her felt unbearably fake—disgusting.

For seven years, he had played both sides—juggling two women, making a fool out of her.

A surge of instinctive disgust rose within her, and she shoved Adrian away.

"What's wrong? You don't look happy." Adrian frowned, his gaze falling on her fingers. "Where's your ring? Why aren't you wearing it?"

Suppressing the nausea rising in her chest, Clara pressed her lips together. "I put it away. It gets in the way when I'm sketching."

His expression eased. As if recalling something, he took her hand and pressed a light kiss to the faint mark where the ring had been.

"I was actually looking for you. Clara, you should drop out of the jewelry design competition."

If it had been yesterday, she might have asked why. But now, she didn't need to.

He wanted her to give up because Sienna was competing too.

She didn't expose him. Lowering her gaze, she said quietly, "This has always been my dream. I won't give it up, no matter what."

"But you're a doctor." Adrian's tone turned flat. "You weren't trained in jewelry design. What you make is average at best. Why enter a competition just to embarrass yourself?"

Clara let out a cold laugh. "The results aren't even out yet. How do you know it'll be embarrassing?"

Her instructor at the design institute had once said that with her talent, she would shine brilliantly in the design world.

She was about to say more when Adrian's phone rang.

He glanced at it but didn't answer. "Babe, I'm telling you to quit for your own good. Think it over carefully. I've got things to handle at the lab. I'll come back tomorrow to be with you."

Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked out.

Clara watched his departing figure with a mocking gaze. The man felt like a complete stranger.

She had caught a glimpse of the caller ID earlier. It was Sienna.

One phone call was enough to pull him away—even though he knew she had just been beaten for refusing that marriage because of him.

She pulled out her phone. As expected, Sienna had just posted something.

In the photo, a man and a woman held hands. The silver ring on the man's ring finger gleamed under the light. The caption read, "Between her and me, I'll always be his first choice."

Clara glanced at the ring still lying in the toilet and let out a bitter laugh.

If Adrian had paid even a little attention, he would have noticed it—the ring she hadn't had time to flush away.

She pressed the flush without hesitation and watched it disappear down the drain.

Just like their eight years together—washed away without a trace.

She didn't sleep at all that night. The next morning, her phone rang by the bedside.

"Ms. Whitmore, hello. The design you submitted yesterday, Sunrise, has been reported for suspected plagiarism. Please come in and cooperate with the investigation."