My Boyfriend & BFF Pranked Me At Our Wedding, I Dumped Both Of Them Chapter 03

My Boyfriend & BFF Pranked Me At Our Wedding, I Dumped Both Of Them Chapter 03

His smile froze. He reached out to pull me back. I repeated it. His face darkened, and he lowered his voice. “Nora, what the hell are you doing? Everyone’s watching. Can you not make a scene? Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it when we get home—” “No need. This is it.” I turned and walked out to call a car. Ethan chased me out and held the car door down. His eyes were full of suppressed anger. “What exactly are you trying to do? If you’re unhappy about something, you can tell me. You pull something like this in front of all these people. Have you ever considered how I feel?” I looked out the car window. “Have you ever considered how I feel? When you two kept pranking me, did you consider me? Just now, I told you to turn it off. You heard me. But you didn’t.” I looked at his hand holding the car door. “When I was planning the wedding, you’d already promised the venue to her. You watched me work on it for so long. Why didn’t you think to tell me even once?” His face shifted between pale and livid. “I know I’ve been neglecting you lately, but you know it hasn’t been easy for us to build this account. Traffic is gone if you don’t grab it. I wanted to save up enough money and then live a good life with you.” His voice softened. “Nora, I was wrong today. I’ll go back and yell at them. Calm down. Can we stop this?” He gently took my hand, the way he always did after an argument, stroking my palm over and over. “It wasn’t them filming me.” I pulled my hand back. “Where’s my portfolio?” He froze for a moment. “In the trunk.” I took my portfolio back and took a car to the studio. For the rest of the time, I went through the handover checklist. By evening, Ethan sent me a video link. The thumbnail was my side profile, and the title read, “Girlfriend Gets the Clown Award, Then Dumps Me on the Spot?” My breakup had become his material again. Someone had left a comment. A: [Nora’s acting keeps getting better. Film him begging her to take him back next.] Ethan liked that comment. He didn’t even think I would actually leave. I saved the link and screenshots. Nora: Delete the video. And you’re not allowed to use my likeness again. He replied quickly with a voice message, Vanessa laughing in the background. “Got it. Once this wave of attention passes, I’ll hide it. The comments are all praising your acting. Don’t take it seriously.” I closed the chat box and backed up the video and the chat logs. Sunday night, I returned the studio keys. When I got home, he wasn’t there. Celebration gifts were scattered around the living room. I only took my documents, clothes, and drawing tools. I took out the wedding dress and laid it on the bed. When the dress had been redone for the seventh time, Ethan had laughed at me, “You’re only wearing it for one day. Is it really worth it?” I’d said I wanted to keep it for a lifetime. Now, I put it back in the wardrobe. The empty space was just right for my drawing board. Under the spare key on the shoe cabinet, I left a note: We’ve broken up. I’ve taken my things. Delete all videos filmed and posted without my consent. Do not contact me again. Then I blocked him. The breakup was made clear, and the note didn’t say where I was going. I didn’t want to wait for him to come back and argue. I pulled my suitcase out and closed the door. Monday morning, I arrived at the airport. The boarding announcement rang out. I dragged my suitcase toward the gate and got on the plane without looking back. At the same time, Ethan finished filming and came home. The apartment was unnaturally quiet. A note was pressed under the spare key. He only read one line before his fingers went stiff: We’ve broken up. I’ve taken my things. Delete all videos filmed and posted without my consent. Do not contact me again. He rushed into the bedroom. Half the wardrobe was empty. The documents, clothes, and drawing tools were all gone. Only the wedding dress still hung at the very back. Ethan’s face drained of color, bit by bit. ‘She’s not throwing a tantrum. She’s not waiting for me to coax her. She really doesn’t want me anymore.’