I Was the Bride They Voted Out Chapter 07

I Was the Bride They Voted Out Chapter 07

Ryan’s shirt was wrinkled.

He stopped nurses, asking for Nina.

The comments were changing.

[Wait, I thought the ex was the one chasing him. Why does he look like the one chasing her?]

[Now he wants to play the devoted boyfriend? Where was all this before?]

I watched for a few seconds, then put the phone down.

There was no familiar ache in my chest.

Just numbness.

That afternoon, Attorney Mason Ford arrived.

Director Harrison had hired him for me.

He spread a stack of documents across the table.

“”‘We’ve gathered enough evidence to pursue legal action. The blogger’s video, the friends’ reposts, the anonymous complaint-”

“Every one of them can be held accountable.”

He paused.

“But if we want to completely clear your name…”

“We still need one key piece of evidence.”

I looked at him.

“We need proof that they all knew you and Ryan hadn’t broken up, yet deliberately worked together to paint you as the obsessive ex.”

I lowered my eyes.

Ryan’s tablet. The group chat.

I’d taken screenshots that night, but hadn’t managed to export all the chat logs.

Emily whispered, “Ms. Bennett… I have it.”

I froze.

She pulled a USB drive from her bag.

“The day you got hurt, I went to the office to grab your things. I saw your cloud drive had automatically synced some screenshots.”

“I backed them up in case something happened.”

“There’s the voting group, the wedding videos, and the chat about getting you into Sullivan Technology.”

Her voice dropped lower, but her eyes were bright.

“I also got the security footage from your building.”

“Claire Whitmore taking the box. Olivia Brooks stepping on the photos. Ryan Sullivan asking you to make that statement. All of it.”

My fingertips brushed the USB drive.

It was so small.

Yet it felt unbearably heavy in my palm.

A commotion started outside the door.

“Sir, you can’t go in-”

“I just want to see her.”

Ryan.

My entire body stiffened. The heart monitor immediately began beeping faster.

Attorney Mason Ford stepped in front of the door without hesitation.

Emily reached over and squeezed my hand.

Outside, Ryan’s voice was wrecked.

“Nina. I know you’re in there.”

“Come out and see me. Please.”

I closed my eyes. My palms were slick with sweat.

He used to call my name, and I’d always turn around.

Now I was just tired.

So tired.

The nurses held him back at the end of the hall.

Through the frosted glass, I watched a blurred figure stand there for a long time.

Until the sky went dark, and he walked away.

Emily asked quietly, “Ms. Bennett… do you want to see him?”

I looked down at the USB drive.

“No.”

That night, I opened a new account.

I dragged the first video into the editor.

On screen, the group chat I wasn’t in was crystal clear.

[Who should Ryan marry?]

I stared at it for a long time.

The video ended with footage of me sitting alone at the restaurant on my birthday.

From noon until late.

The candles melted down one by one.

The waiter asked me three times if I wanted to order. I shook my head each time.

I added only one caption.

(I lost.]

I sent it and put the phone face-down on the bed.

My heart was pounding.

Emily sat nearby, nervously drinking water.

Ten minutes later, the comments exploded.

[So she wasn’t stalking him-they all lied to her?]

[Her boyfriend got married on her birthday and her best friend was the maid of honor?

[That line about having no parents and no one to back her up-that made my hands shake.]

Half an hour later, the blogger deleted the video.

But it was too late.

People dug through her previous posts.

Every caption matched Olivia and the others’ narrative almost word for word.

“He only took care of her out of responsibility.”

“She’s controlling.”

“She refused to let go after fifteen years.”

Someone traced the watermarks and dug up behind-the-scenes clips posted by the Santorini wedding team.

In it, Olivia raised a champagne glass and laughed.

“Everyone, remember to keep Nina calm when you get back.”

“Don’t let her ruin Claire’s big day.”

The internet erupted.

I leaned back against my hospital bed, watching the repost count climb higher and higher.

My hand, clutching the phone, quivered slightly.

It wasn’t satisfaction.

It felt like finally ripping open a wound that had been suffocating me for far too long.