Boyfriend Stood Me Up Seventeen Times And Said Next Time—I Quit Chapter 06

Boyfriend Stood Me Up Seventeen Times And Said Next Time—I Quit Chapter 06

The plane touched down in Paris in the early hours of the local morning.

I turned my phone back on, and notifications flooded the screen at once.

Dozens of missed calls. Hundreds of unread text messages. Every single one was from Julian.

At first, his messages held a sharp edge of frustration.

[Chloe, what is this supposed to mean?]

[Where did you go? Stop playing games and answer me.]

Then panic seeped into his words.

[Are you at the airport? Don’t scare me. I’m coming home right now.]

[I’m sorry. Let’s talk this through properly.]

By the end, his messages were completely unraveled.

[Please answer your phone.]

[I’m begging you.]

[Don’t leave me.]

I didn’t reply to a single one.

This wasn’t about getting revenge.

I knew if I sent even one word back, he would think there was still a

chance to fix things. I refused to give him that false hope.

I blocked his phone number, his Instagram, and set all emails from his address to automatically reject.

I took a deep breath of the cool Parisian morning air. The streets were damp, fresh from recent rain.

Howard stood on the sidewalk waiting for me, arms open in a warm welcome.

“Welcome to Paris, Chloe.”

“I go by Chloe here, but my last name is Carter,” I corrected him gently.

He nodded with a grin.

“Welcome, Carter. I’ve got your hotel room all set up. Rest first, then come by the studio tomorrow. The whole team can’t wait to meet you.”

“Thank you.”

I climbed into his car and watched the city streets roll past outside the window.

I felt no rush of excitement, just a hollow emptiness inside me.

It was like moving out of a home I’d lived in for decades, every room now bare.

Still, empty space was a good thing. An empty life had room for new beginnings.

I showered once I reached my hotel room and lay down on the bed,

but sleep wouldn’t come.

Only one new message waited for me, from Sienna.

[Did you land safely?]

I replied.

[I’m here.]

Her reply came instantly.

[Julian’s lost his mind.]

I stared at the words on the screen. A moment later, she sent a voice note. Her tone was sharp with anger.

“He raced home the second he left Tiffany’s place. All your things were gone, and he looked completely broken.”

“He read the letter you left for him over and over for two hours straight.”

“He called me asking where you went. I told him I had no clue.”

“Can you believe he actually thought you left just over a stupid handbag?”

I let out a quiet laugh that quickly turned to tears stinging my eyes.

I had left a letter for Julian before I departed.

I hadn’t written it to make him feel guilty. I’d written it to close this chapter for myself.

I wrote down every incident that happened over the past three

months.

March 21st. I’d suffered terrible cramps and asked him for pain relief.
He forgot.

That same day, Tiffany posted about the heating pads and hot cocoa
he’d gotten for her.

April 7th. My shop was swamped with orders, and I nearly fainted
from low blood sugar waiting for him to bring me dinner. He fell
asleep and forgot.

That same day, he took Tiffany to the trendy restaurant she’d
mentioned in passing.

May 14th. I reminded him two full months ahead about the birthday
handbag I wanted. He swore he’d remember.

He came back from France with gifts for everyone else, but told me
he’d forgotten my request.

May 20th. My birthday. I waited up for cake until I fell asleep. He
spent the night with Tiffany, celebrating her birthday instead.

I finished the letter with one final paragraph.

[Julian, I didn’t leave you because of a handbag.]

[I left because you slowly pushed me from first place to dead last in
your life.]

[I spent three months counting the seventeen times you forgot about
me.]

[And those seventeen mistakes finally made me realize I didn’t love

you anymore.]

I hadn’t cried while writing those words. I’d repeated them to myself a

Sienna sent a photo next. It showed our old living room. The

half-eaten matcha cake sat on the table, beside my letter crumpled

“I always thought you two would end up married.”

After a long pause, she replied again.

“What about you now? How are you feeling?”

I looked out the window at Paris waking up around me.

I’m ready to live for myself now.”

The next day, I headed to the bridal design studio. It was housed

inside an old brick building along the street.

I pushed open the door and was surrounded by yards of soft lace

satin and sheer white tulle. Light filtered gently through the large

I stood in the doorway for a second, lost in thought.

I’d turned down seven invitations to join this team, all for Julian. Back

then, I’d believed marriage and family and him were my entire future.

Now I saw clearly that another wonderful future had always been waiting for me.

Howard walked me around and introduced me to the rest of the team. They threw a small welcome gathering in my honor.

Coffee, buttery croissants and a bouquet of white roses sat on a table for me.

Emma, one of the designers on staff, pulled me into a warm hug.

“We’ve all seen your work. It’s absolutely stunning.”

“Your ‘Tide’ collection from a few years ago stuck with all of us.”

I blinked in surprise.

“That collection was three years old.”

Julian’s business had been in its busiest phase back then. I’d run client errands for him by day and stayed up late working on my designs by night.

That collection won me a regional award for emerging designers.

Julian had promised to attend the award ceremony with me, but bailed at the last minute for work emergencies.

I stood alone on the stage to accept the trophy. The host asked who I wanted to thank most.

I held the trophy tight and answered without hesitation.

“My fiancé.”

But he was nowhere in the crowd.

I brought the trophy home afterward and set it on the top shelf of my bookcase. Julian glanced at it once and spoke dismissively.

“Nice work. Stick it up there out of the way so it doesn’t cover my files.”

I rarely spoke about my designs after that day.

Until now, someone remembered the name of my old collection and praised it sincerely.

My eyes grew warm with emotion.

Emma smiled softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just been a long time since anyone spoke about my work like this.”

The welcome gathering ended, and I drank a small glass of wine. It was just enough to make my head light.

I walked back to my hotel as night fell.

A familiar figure stood beneath the streetlamp outside the building.

It was Julian.

He wore the same suit from the day before, his tie loose and messy. Dark red rims circled his tired eyes.

His face lit up the second he spotted me, and he hurried forward.

“Chloe!”

He reached out to pull me into his arms. I stepped backward quickly.

His hands froze mid-air. Hurt flashed across his face.

Once upon a time, I would have caved and forgiven him right away.
This time, my expression stayed calm and steady.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to take you home.”

I let out a quiet laugh.

“Julian, we broke up.”

“I don’t accept that,” he insisted urgently. “I never agreed to end things. You can’t just leave like this.”

“Does your agreement change anything?”

His face paled.

“I know you’re angry. I know I neglected you lately.”

“Nothing is going on between Tiffany and me, I swear.”

“I just… she reminds me of how you used to be.”

I stared at him in shock.

Julian clung to his explanation desperately.

“She’s new to the company, nervous and unsure of herself. She relies on people, just like you did when we were young.”

“When she laughs, it takes me right back to eighteen-year-old you.”

“I care for her because she reminds me of my old Chloe.”

“I love you, and only you.”

I listened to every word he said without reacting. When he finished, I spoke slowly.

“So you leave me at home alone to look after a girl who reminds you of me?”

“So you forget my cramps but rush to get her heating pads and hot cocoa?”

“So you miss my birthday but stay to celebrate hers?”

“So you give the handbag I’ve wanted for months to her instead?”

I locked eyes with him directly.

“Don’t you see how ridiculous that is?”

He parted his lips to argue, but no words came out.

I pulled out my phone and opened my photo gallery. I’d deleted all our old pictures, but I still had screenshots saved from before I left.

Tiffany’s TikTok posts, her Instagram captions, the concert tickets with the old issue date, the photo of her in his car with his wedding band visible, every text exchange between Julian and me.

I held the phone out for him to see every piece of evidence.

“Look at all of this.”

“This isn’t me throwing a petty fit. These are all the proof you pushed me away, little by little.”

Julian’s face drained of all color.

I lowered my phone again.

“Hurt can be measured, Julian.”

“I measured every moment for three months straight.”

“Seventeen missed plans. Eleven times you brushed me off. Eight times you bailed on me for Tiffany.”

“And on my birthday, I waited for you for thirteen long hours.”

I paused for a beat.

“All of that added up to exactly enough reason for me to walk away.”

Tears welled up in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. Truly.”

My heart ached for a split second. Twenty years of shared history couldn’t vanish in an instant.

But pain didn’t mean I had to turn back.

“I accept your apology,” I told him. “But I can’t forgive you.”

Panic flooded his features.

“You can’t mean this. Are you still upset about the handbag? I’ll buy it right now. Wait here for me.”

I frowned deeply.

“You still don’t understand a single thing.”

He ignored my words and turned to run down the street.

“Just wait! I won’t forget this time!”