He Thought I’d Never Leave Chapter 01
The night before my wedding, the bridesmaids and groomsmen came up with a game: everyone would write down, on a slip of paper, one thing about me that I didn’t know.
They laughed and egged each other on.
I took the folded slips, thinking they’d be wishes for my happiness.
But the moment I opened the first one, I froze.
Ethan’s only marrying you out of pity. The one he actually loves is Claire.
Claire Morgan. My best friend. Three hours earlier, she’d been crying on the phone, apologizing.
Something about a last-minute business trip. She couldn’t make it to my wedding.
Hands trembling, I kept unfolding the rest.
That engagement ring on your finger? Claire turned it down first. She thought the stone was too small.
Bet you didn’t know—the day of your mother’s funeral, Ethan and Claire were in bed together, in the master bedroom of your apartment.
Claire isn’t coming to your wedding because she just gave birth to Ethan’s baby. She’s still recovering in the hospital.
When my eyes landed on the last slip, I recognized the handwriting instantly.
Marrying you is my sentence. In my next life, let me go.
After the sheer absurdity of it all came something like laughter.
I crumpled every last slip into a ball, pulled the diamond off my ring finger, and dropped the whole thing into the ice bucket.
Then I lifted my head and looked at Ethan.
“In that case, let’s turn tomorrow’s venue into a first-birthday party for your son.”
…
The room went dead silent.
Then a snort of laughter erupted from the corner.
Ryan, the best man, slapped his thigh, his eyes gleaming with open contempt. “Emily, cut the act. Everybody knows you begged Ethan to marry you. You really think you’re in any position to call it off?”
One of the bridesmaids chimed in. “Yeah. You should be grateful he’s marrying you at all.”
I didn’t say anything.
Ethan set down his glass, walked over to the ice bucket, and picked out the crumpled notes one by one. He smoothed them out and read them.
Then he looked up at me. No surprise on his face. Calm, like he’d been waiting for this moment a long time.
“Well, since you know, there’s no point hiding it anymore.”
“The wedding goes ahead as planned. I’ll keep every promise I made you. The Upper West Side apartment, the trust fund, the gallery shares. Just leave Claire alone.”
I laughed.
My fingertips were shaking. My chest ached.
They were the ones who’d betrayed me, and yet the way he spoke made me sound like the villain.
Too many things clawed up my throat at once. In the end, only one came out.
“When did it start?”
Was it when the two of them kept slipping out alone, insisting it was coincidence whenever I caught them?
Or when the three of us ate together, and he’d instinctively order for Claire’s taste?
Ethan was quiet for a few seconds. Then he shook his head.
“Neither. It was four years ago. That trip to the Hamptons.”
That was the trip I’d caught the flu. I’d gone back to the room early to rest.
Left the two of them to watch the sunset on the beach alone.
“We’d had some drinks. Couldn’t stop ourselves. It happened in the room right next to yours.”
“It was supposed to be just that once. But after that… we couldn’t stop.”
When he was done, there was something almost peaceful in his eyes.
Like he’d finally unloaded something he’d been carrying for four years.
He saw my fists clenched, trembling, and added:
“Claire wanted to keep it from you. She didn’t want to ruin your happiness.”
“I’m the one who couldn’t take it anymore. Don’t blame her. She’s suffering more than you are.”
I stared at his face and felt every drop of blood in my body rushing to my head.
“She’s suffering more than me?”
“Ethan. Claire and I were roommates from our first day at NYU. My mother treated her like her own daughter.”
“And on the day my mother died, the two of you were fucking in my apartment. Does that not make you sick?”
I lunged forward and shoved him.
Fury and disbelief churned in my chest.
He didn’t move. He just looked at me.
“That part was my fault. Take it out on me. Don’t hurt her.”
Hearing that made my eyes burn.
He used to say he couldn’t bear to see me hurt in even the smallest way.
Now he stood across from me, guarded and defensive, all to shield another woman.
Something inside me went slack. A cold spread through my whole body.
“Since the two of you love each other so much, I’ll clear the way.”
“Tomorrow’s wedding—I’m not going through with it.”
He froze.
The laughter around us died completely.
The air felt frozen.
He looked at me for two long seconds, then softened his tone into something coaxing.
“Don’t be dramatic. Everything’s already arranged. The makeup artist arrives at nine tomorrow.”
Then he pulled the door open and walked out.
Ryan cleared his throat, muttered “I’ll go check on him,” and followed.
Everyone drifted out. One door closed after another.
The suite emptied. The ceiling was still full of swaying balloons, and the coffee table still held tomorrow’s schedule for the wedding procession.
Three hours ago, Ethan had held me in his arms and said tomorrow he was going to bring his bride home.
Now I stood there among the flowers and balloons, and all I felt was the mockery of it.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced down.
A message from Claire.
Em, I’m SO sorry!! The brand needs me to fly to LA to handle an emergency collab, my flight’s already booked. Please don’t be mad. I’ll make it up to you with the biggest gift when I’m back!
A string of crying emojis followed.
The tone was earnest, frantic, apologetic.
I stared at the screen for a long time.
In the end, I only typed back one line.
Stop pretending. I know everything.