Chapter 4My Fiancée’s Secret Boyfriend

I started packing.

I didn't cry or cause a scene.

I folded the clothes Natalie had bought me and put them back in the closet. The clothes I had paid for went into my suitcase.

In the study, I covered the art supplies she had given me with a dust cover.

Little by little, I removed every trace of myself from the living room.

That was the scene Natalie walked into when she finally came home.

She spent three days waiting in Cloudspire for "Scott," but he never appeared. She looked exhausted and unkempt, with smudged makeup and bloodshot eyes.

She froze when she saw me closing my suitcase.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

I didn't answer. I bent down, moved the potted monstera from the coffee table to the floor, then pulled the plain platinum band from my finger.

Natalie and I had bought matching bands after she accepted my proposal.

I placed the ring and my keys side by side in the middle of the coffee table.

"Ian, I asked you a question!" Her voice sharpened as she crossed the room and caught my wrist. "What's this about?"

I looked up at her. "I'm leaving."

She paused, then let go of me. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer.

"Fine. I admit I handled things badly the other night."

She pulled a credit card from her wallet and held it out to me.

"Use this and buy yourself whatever you want. Just put the ring back on and stop turning this into something bigger than it is."

Money again. As if that could fix everything.

"My appendix ruptured that night," I said quietly. "I almost died."

Her hand fell to her side. Panic flashed across her face before she quickly masked it.

"Was it serious?"

"The doctor said I might not have made it if I'd gotten there any later."

Her lips parted. "I'm sor…"

"Don't." I pushed the card, ring, and keys toward her. "You don't need to apologize, because I'm not going to forgive you."

I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.

She rushed up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, holding on tightly.

"Ian, wait! Let me explain. I really did have something important to deal with that day."

"I know," I said evenly. "Scott was breaking up with you."

She froze.

"H-How do you know that?"

I pulled her arms away, turned to face her, and gave her a faint smile.

"I've known all along."

She took half a step back, the color draining from her face. Then her expression hardened.

The panic vanished, replaced by the cold composure she used when tearing someone apart across a negotiating table.

"You had me investigated?"

"It doesn't matter." I picked up my suitcase. "We're done. The wedding's off."

"Ian." Her voice followed me. "Are you sure about this?"

I kept walking.

"What are you going to do without me? Draw pictures? Do you even make enough to cover rent?"

My grip tightened around the suitcase handle.

"The second you walk out that door, you're on your own."

I opened it.

"You'll come crawling back," she continued.

I stepped into the silent hallway and dragged my suitcase toward the elevator without looking back.