Abandoned Me, Why Cry Now?

My fiancé's sister posted something on social media.

In the photo, she showed off a large expanse of skin on her chest, with visible hickeys near the cleavage from aggressive sucking and biting.

Her caption read: [Got thoroughly worn out until midnight last night, my legs are still weak. Finally have a place in this city to shelter from the storm. Thanks Lucas for the sense of security, you completely filled me up.]

In the comments, Lucas replied with a suggestive emoji: [Don't worry, as long as I'm here, this will always be your home. Whenever you want it, I'll satisfy you.]

That place wasn't just where he slept—it was our future home, the wedding house that was supposed to symbolize our commitment!

And just hours ago, on the bed that should have been mine, he had spread another woman's legs.

A wave of intense nausea hit me.

I didn't scream hysterically. I just stared coldly at the obscene image on the screen and quietly took a screenshot.

Then, after steadying my breathing, I made a call I'd never made before because of our upcoming wedding.

"Mr. Allen, about the offer to transfer to the overseas branch for two years—I've decided to accept. The sooner we can process the paperwork, the better."

Since Lucas wanted to give his dick and his so-called home to another woman, I found this man disgusting. I was done with him completely.

Chapter One

Right after I hung up, Lucas came through the door.

He was carrying my favorite toast bread, looking at me tenderly.

"Aria, why didn't you turn on the lights? Tired from the wedding dress fitting today?"

He naturally walked over to hug me, but I dodged by turning to pour myself some water.

Lucas's hand froze in mid-air, then he smiled helplessly, "Still mad about yesterday? Mia just got back to the country. She's not adjusting well and just went through a breakup, so she's really unstable emotionally. She's depended on me since she was little—I can't just let her end up on the streets, can I?"

Yesterday, I went to set up our wedding house with the keys I'd just gotten, only to find the passcode had been changed.

When I knocked, Mia answered the door in a camisole nightgown, looking sleepy and innocent, "Aria? Sorry, Lucas was worried I'd be scared living alone, so he specially let me stay here for a few days. He changed the passcode too—said he was worried my ex would harass me. Didn't he tell you?"

At that moment, seeing the two pairs of slippers—one men's, one women's—lined up at the entrance, I felt sick to my stomach.

That was my wedding house.

The home I'd visited dozens of properties to find, supervised renovations on for half a year, and even delayed moving into for three months because of formaldehyde concerns.

Now, another woman was living in it.

"Lucas," I put down my glass, my voice so calm it surprised even me, "so that's why you changed our wedding house passcode to her birthday?"

Lucas's expression shifted.

"Aria, don't be so sensitive, okay? Mia's just staying temporarily. She'll move out once she finds a place. And the passcode was just to make it easy for her to remember. What are you thinking?"

He put the toast on the table, a hint of impatience in his voice, "We're about to get married. Can't you be a little more understanding? Mia's like a sister I watched grow up. Can't you be more accepting?"

Understanding.

Accepting.

Those two words hit me like slaps across the face.

So I was supposed to be understanding enough to let them fuck in my bed?

"Fine," I looked at Lucas and suddenly smiled. "I won't make a fuss about it."

Because you don't need to make a fuss with strangers.

In my heart, this relationship was already dead.

Lucas seemed relieved, thinking I'd compromised like I always had before.

"That's more like it," he came over again, hugging me from behind. "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day, and it's also when we're doing the final fitting for the wedding dress. I've booked your favorite restaurant—let's celebrate properly after we're done."

I said nothing, just looked down at his hands clasped around my waist.

On that hand should have been our engagement ring.

But now, that finger was bare.

"Where's your ring?" I asked.

Lucas's eyes flickered, "I probably took it off when I washed my hands and forgot it by the sink. I'll look for it tomorrow."

Actually, I'd already seen it.

On Mia's social media, there was a photo taken against the sunlight.

On her ring finger was Lucas's plain band.

The caption read: "Locking down my brother's love."

Lucas had commented below: "Stop playing around, give it back. If Aria sees this I'll have to explain for ages."

Though the tone was scolding, it couldn't hide the indulgence underneath.

So in his eyes, my feelings were just a hassle that required lengthy explanations.

"Okay, just don't lose it," I said flatly.