My Fiancé and His Best Friend Got Drunk-Married Chapter 02

My Fiancé and His Best Friend Got Drunk-Married Chapter 02

I yanked my suitcase back.

Chloe was momentarily stunned.

Her chest heaved, then she forced a smile. “Fine.”

She pulled her marriage certificate from her bag, shaking it between her fingers.

“So obsessed with this worthless thing?”

“Want me to tear it up? Consider it my apology.”

And with that, she actually did it.

A rip. The marriage certificate tore in two.

Chloe tossed the pieces on the floor and stomped on them.

“No marriage! Forget it!” Her voice was loud, as if she were the most wronged party. “If you can’t handle it, fine. Boring!”

Harrison’s face darkened. “Chloe, what are you doing?”

She shrugged. “I’m solving your problem.”

“No certificate, she should calm down now, right?”

Then she turned to me. “Happy now?”

She glared, eyes red, and ran off.

I looked down at the scattered red fragments, silent for a few seconds, then looked back at Harrison. “That’s her way of apologizing?”

Harrison pulled his gaze from the disappearing figure.

Annoyed, he pressed his fingers to his forehead. “She’s just hot-headed. Wants you to vent, that’s all.”

Vent?

I laughed bitterly. “She tore up the certificate, and before you file the divorce, you’ll have to get a new one first.”

I straightened, no trace of amusement. “Harrison, she’s not giving me an outlet, she’s rubbing salt in the wound.”

Harrison’s fingers pressed harder on his forehead. “…She didn’t think that far.”

“Exactly. She doesn’t have to.” I nodded. “The last one to deal with the hassle won’t be her.”

I ignored him, picked up my suitcase, and turned. The cab driver helped load it into the trunk.

Harrison caught up in a few steps, blocking the closing door.

“Emily, you can go home to cool off and reflect on whether you’re overreacting.”

“But tomorrow, with all the guests and media, you’ll need to know how to be a proper bride.”

“The reputations of the Jones and Ford families aren’t yours to mess with.”

I slowly lifted my head to look at him.

And once again, it’s the two families’ reputations on the line.

Six years.

Because of Chloe’s so-called “brotherhood” overstepping boundaries, I had considered leaving before.

He would blur the focus with, “We’ve been through everything together, don’t overthink it.”

Or, like now, he would lower his face and remind me, the families’ interests come first.

He was certain I was dependent on him, both emotionally and financially. He had never considered staying away from Chloe.

I truly believed they hadn’t crossed the final line.

But what I saw—Chloe could lean on his back, have him carry her.

Drink from his cup freely. Call at midnight to vent. Even access his phone at will.

Meanwhile, as his legal partner, recognized by the family for the alliance, I had to follow Chloe’s rule that a man should have his life together before getting married.

To help him secure his position in the family until he was ready.

I waited.

Waited for him to build his business empire, make the under-30 billionaire list.

Waited for him to finally be ready to give me a “pure” marriage.

I prepared for the wedding happily for half a year.

And what did I get?

Him and Chloe, and that certificate they had grabbed at the bar.

In the past, it was “small stuff.”

Now, even my legal status as his spouse could be treated as a joke.