Fiancée for Seven Years, Left for His Ex

One month before the wedding, Jason's exgirlfriend sent him her 'final wishlist.'

To fulfill her wishes, Jason Reed went bungee jumping, skiing, visiting Iceland to see the Northern Lights, and even taking wedding photos—posting them proudly on social media.

The caption read:

[Although it’s been many years, I’ve finally made it. I fulfilled her last dream. No regrets in this life.]

I liked the post—then my phone rang.

It was Jason, and he was furious.

"Can’t you be a little more considerate? Do you realize what time it is? Are you still making a fuss about this? Ava’s dying and I’m just trying to help her fulfill some wishes. Can’t you understand that?"

I rolled my eyes, but he didn’t stop there.

"Let’s postpone the wedding," he added like it was the most logical solution.

But what he didn’t know—what he couldn’t know—was that Ava wasn’t dying at all. I knew for a fact that she was faking it.

Later, on the wedding day, my neighbor, the one who had secretly loved me for years—held a grand wedding abroad and livestreamed it for the world to see.

Chase Thompson, with red eyes and a trembling voice, confronted me. "Are you really going to give up our seven years for him?"

I gave him a look that could cut glass. "I’m just helping my brother fulfill some wishes. Can you understand that?"

——

Emma's POV

"I'm making a big deal out of this? Jason, which eye of yours saw me making a fuss? I just accidentally liked the post. Is it really necessary to start a confrontation over it?"

I tried to keep my voice steady, but the anger was bubbling beneath the surface.

On the other end of the phone, Jason's voice sounded exhausted and irritated. "I...you know I don’t have time for this right now. Ava’s not well, and her emotions are all over the place. I need to be by her side."

"Oh, she’s dying? How tragic," I interrupted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Should I send over flowers or maybe visit her in her ‘final moments’ to see her frail little body?"

"Emma! How can you say that? Ava, she..." Jason tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"She, she, she—bullshit! Jason, wake up! Ava isn’t sick! She’s just playing the victim for sympathy, and you’re falling for it—hook, line, and sinker!" My voice was shaking with rage now.

There was silence on the other end of the line. I could almost see Jason scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

He was probably regretting calling me right now—probably adding even more stress to his already chaotic situation.

"Emma, what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve never been like this before! Ava’s dying, and you're still making sarcastic comments?"

And then, as if his words had been prerehearsed, he added, "We should postpone the wedding."

Before I could respond, the line went dead.

The busy tone echoed in my ears as I gripped the phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

My entire body trembled with the shock, the weight of the moment sinking in.

Without even thinking, I glanced over at the photo sitting on the table.

It was a picture from when I was seventeen. My high ponytail bounced in the sunlight, my school uniform crisp and clean, and my smile bright as ever.

Next to me, Jason stood just as youthful, his white shirt shining against the glow of the setting sun. We were standing on the track at school, the cherry blossoms in full bloom behind us. Petals floated in the air like confetti, gently landing on our hair and shoulders.

It was a moment frozen in time. How beautiful our youth had been. How perfect our first love seemed.

But now? That was all a joke.

Jason and Ava’s social media posts. It felt like a thousand tiny knives, each one stabbing deeper into my chest with every scroll.

"To hell with understanding. To hell with the wedding."

After a moment, I finally took a breath and started to think more clearly.

Ava Green. That woman. I knew her too well.

Emma's POV

Back in high school, Ava used every trick in the book to steal Jason away from me. And when she got bored, she dropped him, claiming she was going abroad to study.

Now, she’s back in the picture—this time with her "last wish list," flaunting her control over Jason like she’s the one who’s always been meant to be his bride.

Bungee jumping, skiing, the Northern Lights in Iceland… She ticked off each item, posting it all on social media with captions designed to make her look like she was living out the fairy tale.

But the real kicker? Jason actually believes that Ava is terminally ill and doesn’t have much time left. So, he’s at her beck and call, waiting on her hand and foot. He might as well put up a shrine next to her bed and start worshipping her 24/7.

I want to shake him and see if anything’s even in there. How could someone be this blind? Seven years of my life, completely wasted.

Just then, my phone lit up, showing "Chase Thompson" on the screen.

Chase is my neighbor, and for years now, he’s quietly harbored a crush on me.

I answered the call, and his voice immediately reached me—soft, cautious, as if he was afraid of disturbing something fragile.

"Emma, are you okay? I saw Jason’s post..."

His words brushed against my heart, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest.

"I’m fine," I said, trying to sound casual. But I could even hear the tremor in my voice.

"Don’t be sad, Em. He doesn’t deserve you." His voice was steady, firm—like he meant it.

"You deserve better."

He suggested we hit up "our place," the quiet little bar we used to go to back in college. I didn’t hesitate.

I needed to drown out the anger, the hurt, the confusion. A couple of drinks sounded perfect.

...

At the bar, I could already feel the alcohol working its magic, and the world around me starting to blur.

I grabbed my phone, opened the camera, and recorded a video, my head swimming as I stared into the lens.

My hair was a mess, my eyes unfocused, and I laughed, the sound coming out sloppily as I raised my glass.

"Here’s to all the assholes out there! Hope you die alone—no peaceful death for you!"

I downed the drink in one go, posted the video, and before I even had time to process it, my phone rang.

Jason’s name flashed on the screen.

"Emma! Are you out of your mind? What the hell did you post? Delete it right now!" His voice was full of shock, anger, and disbelief.

"Am I crazy? No, I’m not crazy—yet! It’s you who’s making me lose it!" I shouted into the phone, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jason, you’re a damn fool! Ava isn’t even sick! She’s lying to you!"

There was a pause, and then I heard Ava’s soft, whiny voice come through, interrupted by fake little coughs.

"Emma, how could you say that about me..." Ava let out a fake cough before going on, "I’m really feeling terrible... Why are you doing this to me?"

Her voice cracked like she was about to cry, and then she added, "Jason just wants to help me fulfill my last wish... I swear, we never meant to hurt you..."

I could hear Jason’s voice now, soothing, tender. "Ava, don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything."

They were practically in a bubble of their own, ignoring me completely. Their little affectionate exchange made my stomach churn.

"Jason, if you care about her so much, then stay with her!" I yelled, the words burning in my throat. "Forget the wedding. Just cancel it!"

I felt this wave of emotion rising like I was going to break down at any moment, but no tears came. I just reached for another drink.

One glass after another, I drank until the world spun around me, a kaleidoscope of light and noise, each color blending into the next.

I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point, I felt someone supporting me, warm hands pressing against my back. The faint smell of laundry powder filled the air.

It was Chase Thompson.

"Em, you’ve had too much to drink," his voice was soft, full of concern.

His hands steadied me as the world around me continued to swirl. I closed my eyes, grateful for the warmth, even if it was temporary.

Emma's POV

I struggled to open my eyes, and there, inches from me was Chase's face. His chiseled features looked unusually gentle under the dim light.

"Chase..." I whispered his name, and just like that, the tears I’d been holding back flooded out.

"He... how could he do this to me?" The words came out broken, as the full weight of everything hit me all at once.

Chase didn’t say anything. He just wrapped his arm around me, gently patting my back, like he was trying to comfort a child.

I leaned into him, crying in a way I hadn’t in years, letting go of all the hurt and frustration I’d been bottling up for the past seven years.

Chase didn’t rush me. He just quietly led me away from the noisy bar, his presence a steady anchor as we stepped into the cool night air. The breeze on my face helped clear my mind, just a little.

"Emma, let me take you home." His voice was soft, almost tentative like he didn’t want to disturb me more than I already was.

I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to go back... it’s all his memories there..."

Chase was silent for a beat, then he spoke again, his tone gentle but firm. "Come to my place. I’ll make you some hangover soup."

I nodded without much thought, still in a daze, and let him guide me.

The hangover hit harder than I expected. I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, my head pounding like it was being drilled into. I groggily sat up, grabbed the water cup on the nightstand, and drank it all in one go.

Only then did I realize—I wasn’t at my place. I was at Chase’s.

The minimalist decor—black, white, and gray—was spotless and gave off a cool, almost sterile vibe. It felt distant.

I looked around, trying to piece together last night’s events, but all I could remember were flashes of my tears, Chase’s comforting arms, and the weight of everything crashing down on me.

Before I could gather my thoughts, my phone rang, breaking the silence.

The name "Jason" flashed on the screen.

I hesitated for a moment before finally answering.

"Emma! Where did you go last night? Why didn’t you come home?" Jason’s voice came through, full of anger and confusion.

"Do I really need to report to you where I went? Jason, we’ve broken up." I tried to keep my voice steady, but the phone felt like it was burning in my hand.

My fingers were trembling, betraying me.

"Broken up? Emma, don’t forget we haven’t officially broken off our engagement! Who were you with last night? Was it that Chase?"

His voice grew louder, the suspicion in it thickening.

I scoffed, the bitterness in my laugh sharp. "Jason, your imagination’s running wild. Even if I was with someone, it’s none of your business."

"Emma, you better tell me the truth! If you’re messing around behind my back, I swear I won’t let you off!" His voice cracked with anger, his words frantic.

I couldn’t take it.

I didn’t want to hear it anymore.

I hung up the phone, my hand shaking as I pressed the button.

...

After saying goodbye to Chase and stumbling back home, I immediately noticed something was wrong.

A pair of high heels—someone else’s—were carelessly discarded at the door. A single stocking was thrown across the sofa, and the air was thick with the scent of perfume.

I didn’t recognize it.

A cold, sinking feeling washed over me, like something in the pit of my stomach had just dropped.

From the bathroom, I could hear the sound of rushing water—and a woman’s laughter, light and flirtatious, echoing through the apartment.

I froze, and my blood turned cold. My heart pounded in my chest, louder with every step I took toward the bathroom door.

Without thinking, I pushed it open.

What I saw shattered me in an instant.

Ava was standing naked under the showerhead, and Jason was gently wiping her down with a towel.

"Jason, you’re so kind..." Ava purred, her voice sweet and sickeningly fake.

"Ah, Jason, you’re hurting me..." she complained playfully, the words dripping with seduction.

Jason’s voice was soft, and soothing, as if he were talking to a fragile child. "Baby, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’ll be gentler... gentler..."

I stood frozen in the doorway, the weight of it all crashing down on me. My mind went blank, the buzzing in my head growing louder.

Ava saw me. Far from being flustered or embarrassed, she smirked a cold, dismissive smile that said everything I needed to know.

I was nothing to her.

And Jason?

He was right there, wiping her body like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I felt like I had been struck by lightning, my world crumbling in an instant.

Emma's POV

"Uhm, Jason, look, Emma's here," Ava said, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Jason turned his head, and for a split second, I saw panic flash across his face. But just as quickly, he masked it with a practiced calm.

"I was just helping Ava... wipe her body. She slipped, you know how her health is..." he stammered, trying to cover up his lie, but it only made my stomach churn.

"Don’t lie to me," I snapped. "I’m not stupid."

A surge of anger boiled up from deep within me, and before I could stop myself, my hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face.

"You two are naked in each other’s arms, just 'wiping each other down'? Jason, do you really think I’m blind?"

"Jason! Are you okay?" Ava suddenly threw on a bathrobe, rushing to him with feigned concern, her hand gently caressing his red cheek as if it were all too much for her to handle.

"Emma, please, don’t be mad. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come here... I shouldn’t have..."

Watching her play the victim made me feel sick to my stomach.

She was the one who destroyed everything between us.

Now, was she pretending to be innocent?

The hypocrisy was unbearable.

"Cut the act!" I hissed. "You knew he was engaged, yet you still went after him. You’re nothing but a shameless homewrecker."

Ava seemed taken aback, retreating behind Jason and starting to sob. "Jason, I’m so scared..."

Then, before I could process what was happening, Jason shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the ground. My head hit the cold tile with a jarring thud.

"Emma, are you done yet?" he snapped.

"I told you! Ava and I haven’t done anything! Why can’t you stop acting crazy?"

Then, without warning, he slapped me across the face. The pain spread like wildfire, and I covered my cheek, still in shock.

Was this really the man I had loved for seven years?

My heart felt like it was frozen like I had fallen into an icy pit, and every breath I took felt sharp and bitter.

"Jason, we're done! Let's forget about the wedding. I’m not marrying you anymore!" I shouted, my voice shaking with hurt and anger.

Jason seemed to brush it off as if it were nothing more than a tantrum. He sneered, then casually scooped Ava into his arms and started toward the door.

I struggled to push myself up from the floor, the pain in my head making everything blur. My vision wavered in and out of focus.

How pathetic.

I was still hoping, still holding on to the faintest hope that he would turn around and explain himself.

"Jason, stop right there!" I called out, my voice desperate.

He paused, turned around, and gave me a look full of disdain like I was beneath him. "Emma, stop making a scene. The more you act like this, the more I’ll hate you."

Tears began to fall without warning. They felt hot against my cold skin, and I could taste the bitterness on my lips.

I fought to stand, my legs unsteady as I stumbled toward the mirror.

The reflection staring back at me was unrecognizable: messy hair, pale skin, eyes swollen from crying. I looked like a mess—nothing like the confident woman I once was.

I had been with Jason for seven years.

From elementary school to college, we were inseparable. Everyone saw us as the perfect couple, destined to get married right after graduation.

I gave up my chance to study abroad for him, chose to stay in the city, and dedicated my whole life to building a future with him.

I thought our love was unbreakable. I thought he was my rock. I thought...

But now, it was all just an illusion. A ridiculous dream.

Seven years. Over a thousand days and nights. I gave him my heart, my youth—everything. And for what?

I had been such a fool.

Emma's POV

I stumbled out of the bathroom, everything around me blurring as I tried to steady myself. Leaning against the wall for support, I slowly made my way to the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

Jason, however, was still in the other room, trying to comfort Ava as if nothing had happened. "Hey, hey, Ava, stop crying," he said gently. "It’s all Emma’s fault. Let’s just forget about her."

"Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’re going to the amusement park," he added, his tone soft and reassuring.

I felt my energy draining, both physically and emotionally. I didn’t want to fight anymore.

I was just... so tired.

From the room, Ava’s delicate voice floated toward me. "Jason, I’m a bit hungry..."

Jason’s reply was gentle. "What do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you."

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing my bag, I stormed out of the door, the night air cooled against my face, but it couldn’t shake the chill in my heart.

...

Memories flooded my mind, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The sweet past now felt like sharp knives, stabbing me repeatedly in the chest.

Jason had always struggled with his stomach. Because he couldn’t cook, I took it upon myself to care for him—making fresh meals for him three times a day. His stomach couldn’t handle spicy food, so I gave it up, even though I loved chili.

He liked fish, so I bought the freshest catch every day, even though I was allergic to the smell.

I treated him like a mother would, making sure every little detail was perfect. But now, looking back, I see how foolish I was.

He could cook. He knew how.

But he pretended to be helpless, using me like a free maid, taking my care for granted.

I opened our chat history—seven years’ worth of messages.

They used to sparkle with the happiness and sweetness of our love. But now, all they did was leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

I scrolled to a conversation from a month ago.

[Emma, I’m working overtime tonight. Can’t have dinner with you.]

[Emma, I’ve got a client tonight. Can’t go to the movies.]

[Emma, I’m busy tonight...]

A string of "can’ts," each one landing like a slap to my face, harsh and unrelenting.

I kept scrolling, backtracking to two months ago.

[Jason, you’ve been working overtime a lot lately. You need to take care of yourself.]

[I know, Emma. You’re so good.]

[Don’t overwork yourself. Come back early.]

[Okay, I will.]

I continued scrolling—three months ago, four months ago.

The contrast between my care and his indifference was so stark it almost hurt. And then, it hit me: six months ago, Jason had started pulling away.

He’d been working late, and going on business trips more often. Back then, I was naïve enough to think it was all for us—that he was working hard for our future. I understood, I sympathized.

But little did I know, all that 'hard work' was just him sneaking around with Ava.

I kept scrolling, reaching messages from a year ago.

[Jason, I saw Ava today... she seems to have feelings for you...]

[Don’t overthink it. She’s just a friend.]

[But...]

[Emma, trust me.]

At the time, I truly believed him. I thought I was just being paranoid, imagining things. Now, I realized how wrong I had been. I had been so blind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. When I opened them again, the sadness in my eyes had been replaced by a calm determination.

My phone vibrated.

Right there, Jason’s name flashed on the screen.

[Emma, I’m sorry. I was wrong earlier. I shouldn’t have hit you. Please don’t be mad. Come back... it’s cold outside.]

His message stung, but I couldn’t help but feel a cold resolve setting in.

Emma's POV

I scoffed and quickly typed a reply: [No need, I’m staying at a hotel tonight.]

It didn’t take long for Jason to respond.

[Emma, don’t make a scene. What hotel are you staying at so late? Be a good girl and come back.]

I paused for a moment, but with all the resolve I had left, I typed: [Jason, let’s break up.]

The wedding was just a month away. Invitations had already gone out, the photos had already been taken, the banquet had been booked, and everything was set. I was just waiting to become a bride.

Now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

Out of nowhere, a black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

It was Chase.

He quickly stepped out, his face etched with concern. "Emma, are you okay? That jerk Jason, how could he hit you?"

As he spoke, he removed his coat and draped it over my shoulders.

The faint scent of his cologne—something unfamiliar but comforting—brought a small amount of peace to my shattered heart.

"I... I’m planning to break off my engagement with Jason," I said, my voice a little shaky but firm.

Chase stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before it quickly settled into a calm, concerned expression.

He then asked, "Emma, are you really sure? This isn’t something small."

Taking a deep breath, I answered with more conviction than I felt, "I’m sure. I don’t want to be lied to anymore, and I can’t keep wasting my time."

...

The next morning, I called the wedding planner and canceled everything—everything. I also informed all the guests.

Emily, the wedding planner, nearly cried when I told her over the phone. She went on about penalties, losses, and how "absurd" it was that I was backing out at the last minute.

I cut her off, coldly giving her Jason’s card number and telling her to deduct whatever was needed.

Once I hung up, the world around me felt quieter, like the pressure had finally let up.

Next came the dreaded task of notifying the guests. I created a group chat, added everyone, and typed:

[To my friends and family, I just wanted to let you know that Jason and I have called off the wedding. Sorry if this causes any inconvenience. Thanks for understanding.]

I set the group to [Do Not Disturb] and watched the notifications light up my phone screen, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t even flinch.

I knew what people would think. Most would assume I’d lost my mind. One month away from the wedding, and I was canceling it like it was nothing. Yeah, madness seemed about right.

Sure enough, Jason called, exactly as I expected. But instead of feeling even an ounce of guilt, it only fueled my anger.

I answered the phone with a bitter laugh. "What is it, Jason?"

He sighed. "Emma, can we... talk? I know you're really angry, but some things can’t be explained over the phone. Can we meet? Same place, the hotpot restaurant we used to go to?"

I hesitated, but deep down, I knew I needed closure. I agreed.

...

Later that evening, I put on delicate makeup, slipped into a bright red dress, and wore heels that clicked confidently as I walked.

I arrived at the entrance of the hotpot restaurant, and there he was—Jason, already seated at the table.

At first, I thought it was just him, but then, to my shock, I saw Ava walking out of the bathroom, looking like she owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.

Ava was practically glued to Jason’s arm, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Jason said he wanted to bring me here for his favorite hotpot. You know this place, don’t you, Emma?"

I couldn’t help but scoff. "Yeah, I’m very familiar with it. After all, Jason and I came here countless times. Unlike some people who probably don’t even know what the signature dish is."

Ava’s smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, tightening her grip on Jason’s arm as if to stake her claim.

Emma's POV

"Jason, let's go inside. I’m starving," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

Jason glanced between me and Ava, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. But after a beat, he followed Ava inside without another word. I took a deep breath, mentally telling myself to stay calm, and followed them.

We sat at a table together, and the tension in the air was thick. Jason suddenly started serving me food, most of it being dishes I used to love. But now, looking at them, I felt nothing but disgust.

"Emma, try this. It's your favorite shrimp paste," he said, trying to sound cheerful.

He smiled at me like he was trying to please me, but I could see a smug little glint in his eyes. I scoffed and pushed the shrimp paste aside.

"I don’t like it anymore," I snapped.

Ava, always ready to insert herself into the drama, sweetly interrupted, "Jason, I love it. Serve it to me."

Without hesitation, Jason loaded her plate with a generous portion of shrimp paste. Ava took a bite, savoring it while throwing me a look full of challenges.

"Jason, you really brought me out just to watch you two act all loveydovey?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jason finally set down his chopsticks, his patience wearing thin. "Emma, can’t you be a little more understanding? How can you just cancel the wedding like this? Do you know the losses this will cause?"

I raised an eyebrow, my gaze sharp. "Jason, are you worried about money, or are you more concerned about your pathetic little pride?"

His face tightened, and his eyes darted away from mine, unable to meet my gaze.

But Ava, ever the instigator, jumped in, adding more fuel to the fire. "Emma, Jason’s just trying to look out for you. This wedding’s been in the works for so long. Canceling it now? It’ll wreck your reputation."

I laughed, the sound harsh. "My reputation? Do you really think I need you to worry about that? But you, on the other hand, a mistress climbing the ranks and destroying someone else’s relationship—don’t you fear retribution?"

Before Ava could respond, a small child came barreling out of nowhere, running full speed, and collided with a waiter carrying a hot pot. The waiter lost his balance, and in an instant, the boiling soup tipped over, spilling straight toward us.

I barely had time to react when the searing heat blasted into my face.

But in the blink of an eye, Jason pulled Ava close, shielding her with his body.

"Ava, are you okay? Did you get burned?" he asked frantically, holding her protectively.

Meanwhile, I was left standing there, the hot soup splashing onto my arm. The pain hit me like a jolt of electricity.

"Ahh—" I cried out as the sharp burn quickly swelled my skin, turning it red.

The waiter, now pale as a ghost, frantically apologized, bowing over and over.

The surrounding diners began to murmur, their eyes darting to Jason and Ava.

"This guy’s really something, huh? Protecting his girlfriend like that," one of the onlookers said.

"Yeah, now that’s true love," the other one agreed.

Their whispers stung, and I felt my emotions spiraling out of control. I suddenly remembered how Jason used to do the same for me—always leaving the best for me, always making sure I was protected.

But now, he was shielding Ava.

Ava finally lifted her head from Jason’s chest, a concerned look on her face. "Jason, are you okay? Where did you get burned? Let me see!"

That was it. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My stomach turned, and I just needed to get out of there, away from this hellish scene.

I stood up abruptly, knocking my chair over with a loud crash. The diners around us stared, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to escape.

Only then did Jason finally notice my arm had been burned.

But instead of concern for me, he snapped, his attention shifting to the waiter and the child.

"Hey! What’s wrong with you?!" he yelled, his voice filled with fury. "Watch where you're going!"

I couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even worried about me.

Emma's POV

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?! Can’t you see what you’ve done? You burned someone!" Jason yelled, my frustration boiling over.

The waiter was shaking, repeating apologies, while the child’s parents rushed over, clearly mortified.

Ava, on the other hand, tugged gently at Jason’s sleeve, speaking in that overly sweet tone of hers. "Jason, please don’t get upset. What if you get sick from the stress? It wasn’t on purpose, you know."

I could feel my vision darkening as I staggered toward the door, the pain in my arm intensifying with every step.

It was like flames licking at my skin, sharp, burning, and relentless. But worse than the pain was the crushing weight of betrayal that settled in my chest.

I had once believed that Jason and I were unbreakable.

But now? It felt like it was all just a lie.

Jason glanced at the burn on my arm, a flicker of heartache flashing in his eyes before quickly turning into frustration and regret.

"Emma, how are you? Does it hurt? Let’s go to the hospital right now!" he said, his voice filled with concern.

When I didn’t respond, his tone softened, almost pleading. "Emma, please. Don’t make a scene. After the wedding, you can do whatever you want, alright?"

Before I could respond, Ava chimed in with that soft, fragile voice of hers, always playing the victim.

"Emma, Jason was just in a hurry. Don’t blame him. Is your arm okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Her fake, innocent act made my stomach turn. I shot her a disgusted look and swatted Jason’s hand away.

"Don’t touch me! You’re disgusting!" I spat.

I stumbled out of the restaurant, my stomach churning with every step. Behind me, Jason’s anxious voice called out, but I couldn’t stop. I just needed to get away from this suffocating scene.

My high heels twisted, and I almost lost my balance, barely managing to steady myself against the wall.

The burning pain in my arm flared up, like a thousand ants gnawing at my skin. I heard Jason’s footsteps getting closer, panic rising in my chest, and I pushed myself to walk faster.

But then, suddenly, the footsteps stopped. I turned around, heart hammering in my chest, and saw Jason holding Ava up, a worried expression on his face.

Ava’s face was pale, and she clutched her chest as if she was about to collapse.

She weakly leaned against Jason, her voice barely a whisper. "Jason… I… I don't feel good anymore..."

Jason quickly steadied her, concern written all over his face. "Ava, what’s wrong? Where does it hurt?"

I stood frozen, watching this ridiculous charade unfold, my heart turning to stone. Jason looked like he was about to come over to check on me, but Ava clutched his arm tightly.

"Jason, I… I feel dizzy…" she said, her body going limp as she collapsed into his arms.

Jason looked between Ava, limp in his arms, and me standing there, unable to hide the bitterness rising inside me. Finally, he made his choice.

He picked Ava up in a horizontal position and looked at me with a halfhearted apology. "Emma, you go to the hospital. I’ll take Ava, and I’ll come to find you afterward."

I felt my stomach twist painfully.

I leaned against the wall, dry heaving, but nothing came up. Just the bitter, sour taste of anger rising in my throat.

'Jason, Ava, the wedding…'

Those words spun around in my head, getting louder and louder until they landed on the image of Jason leaving with Ava in his arms.

I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. I couldn’t cry, not here, not now.

At the hospital, the doctor examined my burn carefully, his brow furrowing slightly as he inspected the damage.

"It’s a moderate burn. It needs immediate treatment," he said, his voice professional but with a hint of concern.

I nodded, but inside, I felt absolutely nothing.

Emma's POV

The nurse carefully cleaned my wound, and when the cold medication touched my skin, I couldn't help but gasp softly.

She glanced up at me, her eyes filled with sympathy. "You need to be careful with this. Wounds take time to heal."

I forced a small smile. "Thanks."

Once the wound was treated, I sat on a bench in the hospital corridor, staring out into the quiet night. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out, only to see a message from Jason on WhatsApp:

[Emma, Ava is fine now. How about you?]

I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

I deleted the entire chat history and removed his contact information. If he’d already made his choice, why should I keep holding on?

By the time I arrived at Chase's house, it was almost 10 PM.

He clearly hadn’t expected me to show up. I noticed the laptop in the living room still had an active video conference, with someone speaking on the screen.

Chase glanced at it, then at me, and gave me an apologetic look. After muttering a few words to the participants, he quickly ended the meeting.

"Emma, you’re hurt?" His voice was laced with concern as he helped me sit down and gently examined my arm.

His fingertips brushed against my skin, and I felt an electriclike sensation spread through my body.

"How could you be so careless?" he said, his tone warm, filled with both reproach and care.

I shook my head, not wanting to bring up Jason and Ava again. Those painful images would only make me even more upset.

"I’m hungry," I said, changing the subject.

Chase didn’t ask anything more. He simply walked into the kitchen, grabbed a few ingredients, and started cooking. I sat on the couch, quietly watching him move about.

Compared to the fake affection from Jason and Ava, Chase’s presence felt so much more genuine.

At that moment, everything became incredibly clear to me.

The smell of food wafted through the air, and I looked up to see Chase bringing a steaming bowl of chicken soup.

"Eat while it’s hot. You haven’t been feeling well lately, so be careful not to burn yourself," he said softly.

I took the bowl from him, feeling warmth in my eyes. "Why are you so good to me?"

I already knew the answer, but I couldn’t help but ask.

Chase was silent for a few moments, his gaze soft and deep, as though he was thinking about how to answer.

He reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his fingers warm and steady.

His touch made me feel a bit shy, and I felt a flush creeping up my face without realizing it.

"Emma," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time."

"You’re an amazing person, Em. You’re better than anyone else. He just didn’t know how to appreciate you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out right away.

Seeing my hesitation, he smiled softly. "I know this is sudden. You don’t have to respond right away. I just want you to know that I’ve always been here."

"Chase, let’s get married."