I Was the Bride They Voted Out Chapter 06

I Was the Bride They Voted Out Chapter 06

Ryan took half a step back. His phone rang.

It was Olivia.

“Ryan, Claire’s still crying. Why aren’t you back yet?”

“Nina’s tough. She’ll be fine.”

For the first time, he didn’t answer. He hung up.

When he got back to the wedding house, the living room was still a mess.

Balloons half-deflated. Streamers on the floor.

My boxes sat by the door, the gray scarf crushed on top.

Ryan crouched down and picked it up.

It was stained with rain and mud. A dark smear of blood on the edge.

He stared at that rust-colored mark, his throat bobbing.

On the coffee table, the diamond necklace still lay in its box.

I hadn’t taken it.

The closet was half-empty.

My notebook was gone from the bookshelf.

His phone rang again. This time, Rachel.

“The online narrative is going our way. Claire’s getting tons of sympathy.”

“Just have Nina post an apology, and this whole thing will blow over.”

Ryan’s voice came out rough.

“She got hit by a car.”

A pause on the other end.

Rachel said quickly, “That’s not Claire’s fault. She ran out on her own.”

Ryan pressed his hand to his chest. Something was squeezing it tight.

He remembered me kneeling on the floor, clutching the trampled photos.

I said, “They’re throwing my things away.”

And what had he said then?

“They were just helping you move.’

The doorbell rang.

A courier handed him a small package.

The recipient was Ryan Sullivan.

There was no sender’s name.

Ryan opened it.

Inside was the old ring he’d given me in college.

And a thick photo album.

He’d knelt on the grass back then and said:

“One day I’ll get you a bigger one.”

The first page: a tiny cake on my eighteenth birthday.

The second: burnt hotpot in our rented apartment.

The third: him in a hospital bed after his company first got funding. Me by his side.

On the back of the photo, my handwriting read:

[Ryan said he’d be with me every year.]

His hands trembled harder with every page he turned.

On the last page was a note.

The handwriting was faint, like the person who wrote it had no strength left.

[Ryan. I’m giving this home back to you.]

[Don’t come looking for me.]

Ryan’s vision went black. He grabbed the table to steady himself.

Then a local news alert popped up on his phone.

[Woman Critically Injured in Rainstorm Car Accident. Victim Believed to Be Target of Online

Harassment.]

The comments cheered.

[Karma’s a bitch.]

[That crazy ex finally shut up.]

Ryan stared at those words, his breathing turning ragged.

Without another thought, he bolted out the door.

Claire ran out from the elevator, her wrist still bandaged.

“Ryan, where are you going?”

He didn’t stop.

She grabbed his sleeve, sobbing.

“You promised you’d come home with me today.”

Ryan pried her fingers off, one by one.

“Claire.”

“If Nina’s really gone, I’ll never forgive you.”

Claire’s face went white.

But Ryan was already gone, disappearing into the rain

On the tenth day of waking up in Ashford, I could finally sit up.

Two broken ribs. A cast on my left leg. Seven stitches on my forehead.

The doctor said I was lucky to be alive.

Director Harrison had arranged a private room.

Outside the window stood a tall plane tree, leaves rustling in the wind.

Every morning, the first thing I did was check that my metal box was still on the nightstand.

The photos had dried, but my mother’s face had a crease.

I smoothed it with my fingertip, gently, like I was afraid of hurting her again.

Emily came to visit, carrying a stack of documents.

“Ms. Bennett, your overseas assignment is still secured.”

“And we found where the anonymous complaint came from.”

“It was sent from the HR department at Sullivan Technologies.”

I wasn’t surprised.

Ryan had told me that without him, I wouldn’t be able to keep anything.

He didn’t just threaten. He acted.

Emily handed me her phone again.

“He’s been looking for you.”

On screen, Ryan was going from hospital to hospital.

Searching for me.