He Told Me to Wait While He Was With His Cheating Ex — I Sold Our Home That Night Chapter 01

He Told Me to Wait While He Was With His Cheating Ex — I Sold Our Home That Night Chapter 01

On our seventh anniversary, I had the ring ready and was about to propose when my boyfriend’s cheating ex—the woman he had never gotten over—suddenly returned from overseas and walked right up to him.

Sabrina Lane held a wineglass and teased, “Julian Hart, didn’t you always like women like me—the kind who’d cheat on you and drive you out of your mind?”

“How did you end up with this sweet, obedient little live-in maid who waits on you hand and foot?”

I expected Julian to get angry, but he only tapped her lightly on the forehead, looking resigned.

“You know you used to drive me crazy. I’m never losing my mind over anyone again.”

I froze where I stood, as if I were nothing more than an irrelevant extra in the scene.

Once, they had been the famously intense, toxic couple in their circle, the kind who loved and hurt each other with equal force.

Now, after seven years apart, they were exes reunited, trading loaded looks full of unfinished business.

No matter how attentive I had been during those seven years, I had never come close to taking her place in his heart.

As Julian walked past me, he shoved the ring box into my hand.

“Be good, Chloe. I’ll come find you when we’re done catching up.”

Then he turned back to her and slipped easily into the same familiar, flirtatious banter.

Watching them together, I tightened my grip on the diamond ring and suddenly felt exhausted.

…

“Come on. Let’s drink to our long-dead romance.”

Sabrina took a sip of wine, then held her glass out to Julian. A lipstick mark stained the rim.

Julian glanced down at it but did not take it.

Sabrina gave him a knowing smile. “What? Too good to drink after me now?”

Julian hesitated before taking the glass and setting it on the table beside him.

“Sabrina, slow down. Your stomach always hurts when you drink too much.”

Someone nearby immediately called out, “Wow. Seven years, and you still remember that?”

Sabrina glanced around the room before turning toward me.

“Julian, with us acting like this, your girlfriend isn’t going to mind, is she?”

Only then did Julian look back.

When he saw me standing a few feet away, he looked as though he had only just remembered I was there.

“Chloe’s nothing like you. She’s sweet and understanding. She won’t mind.”

A sharp ache went through me, and my fingers curled inside my pocket.

Someone came closer, their gaze drifting toward my pocket.

“Chloe, didn’t you say you had a surprise tonight?”

Before I could answer, Sabrina laughed.

“You weren’t planning to propose, were you?”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Julian’s brow twitched. He walked over to me and lowered his voice.

“There are too many people here. Don’t make a scene.”

I forced down my emotions and looked up at him.

“Julian, tonight is our seventh anniversary.”

“How am I making a scene?”

“Well, well.” Sabrina picked up a freshly poured glass of wine, clearly enjoying the show. “Julian, want to bet?”

“Your little girlfriend is definitely going to cry tonight.”

Julian did not look at her. Instead, he took the napkin from my hand and wiped a dab of frosting from my fingertip.

“I told you, she won’t,” he said evenly. “She’s too understanding for that.”

I lowered my eyes to my hand.

He had always done things like that.

At dinners, when I hated being the butt of someone else’s joke, he would put food on my plate and tell me not to let it get to me.

When friends showed up late and left me waiting until my stomach hurt, he would rub my head and tell me how patient I was.

As long as I never complained or made a scene, everyone else could brush off whatever they had done and move on.

Near the end of the party, Sabrina said she felt dizzy.

Julian immediately pushed back his chair and grabbed her coat.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes playfully and glanced back at me. “What about Chloe?”

Julian was already holding her arm and guiding her toward the door.

“She can wait for me a minute.”

They disappeared through the crowd.

Someone behind me laughed under their breath.

“Looks like the wife just met the ex.”

“What wife? They aren’t even married.”

I sat back down and realized it felt as though a hole had opened inside me, and everything I had been holding in was slipping through it.

One corner of the cake had caved in.

The words “Happy Seventh Anniversary” were smeared with frosting until only the 7 remained.

By the time Julian returned, only a few servers were left in the private dining room, clearing away glasses and plates.

He clasped his hands together and gave me an apologetic look.

Yet the moment he sat beside me, the first thing he did was check his phone.

It was a voice message from Sabrina, and her slurred voice came through the speaker.

“Julian, I made it back to the hotel. Don’t worry.”

Julian raised one finger to his lips and motioned for me to be quiet.

“Shh.”

He sent back a brief voice reply, “Okay,” before finally turning to me

“Chloe, were you upset earlier?”

I took the ring box out of my pocket and placed it on my lap.

Keeping my eyes down, I asked quietly, “Julian, if I had proposed earlier, would you have said yes?”

He remained silent for a long time.

The silence stretched on until a server came over and asked whether we wanted the cake boxed up.

Julian answered for me so quickly that it was as though the question had finally given him room to breathe.

“No, thank you.”

Then he gently took my hand.

“Chloe, this isn’t the right time.”

I nodded without arguing.

Julian let out a long breath and brushed his thumb over the back of my hand.

“I knew you’d understand. You always do.”

On the drive home, he took two more calls from Sabrina.

I sat in the passenger seat, watching bands of city light slide past the window.

When we got home, Julian went straight to the shower.

I stood in the living room and unlocked my phone.

The Messenger thread with my real estate agent dated back a long time.

Earlier at the party, I had used it to ask how long it might take to sell the condo if I ever decided to put it on the market.

The agent had replied almost immediately.

Agent: [If you price it to sell, it could move quickly.]

Agent: [Are you thinking about listing it?]

I glanced toward the bathroom. Julian was humming a song I did not recognize.

Me: [Yes. I want to sell.]

Agent: [You’ll take a significant loss if you rush the sale. Are you sure?]

I looked down at the screen and only then realized the words had blurred together.

After wiping my eyes, I pushed the ring box into the very back of the drawer.

Me: [I’m sure.]

Me: [As soon as possible.]