My Fiancé Chose Her Over Me—So I Canceled Our Wedding Chapter 11

Once I settled into my job, I rented an apartment near the office.

On moving day, a few coworkers volunteered to help.

“Claire, where do you want this box of books?”

“Should the mugs go in the kitchen or the study?”

“This plant needs to be by a window, right?”

Every time they picked something up, they asked me first.

Nobody made decisions for me. Nobody threw my things away.

By the time Ethan arrived, we were almost done unpacking.

He stood in the doorway, his gaze passing over my mug, diffuser, desk, and potted plants.

This time, he recognized everything.

“You bought that mug in college.”

“You’ve used that diffuser for years.”

“That plant… It used to be on the balcony.”

He reached out to touch it, then stopped halfway and slowly drew his hand back.

He didn’t get to touch my things anymore.

“Claire.”

“Let me replace everything we threw away. Okay?”

“I’ll track down every last thing.”

1 shook my head.

“Once you throw something away, it’s gone.”

Ethan’s breath caught.

“What about us?”

“Does that go for the wedding, too?”

I looked at him.

“No.”

A spark of hope lit his eyes.

Then I went on.

“Those things were never what you really threw away.”

“You threw away the six years I spent loving you.”

The spark went out.

His mouth opened, but for a long time, nothing came out.

I pulled the door open.

“Ethan, don’t come here again.”

“There’s no place for you here.”

After that, Ethan stopped coming to see me.

He shut himself inside the house we were supposed to share. For the first time, he made a careful list of

what I liked.

[Lisianthus. Maple-glazed salmon. Coffee with no sugar. A small lamp with warm yellow light for writing.]

By the time he finished, he’d filled three whole pages.

The irony was that none of it had ever been a secret.

He’d just never really listened.

Luke remembered, too. Whenever the five of us went out to eat, I made the reservations and saved our seats.

But once we sat down, the four of them talked and laughed while I always sat off to one side.

Ryan went through all our travel photos from over the years.

Hundreds of them.

All of the same four people.

He always said I didn’t like having my picture taken.

Only now did he realize why.

Every single time, I was the one holding the camera.

Sophie dug out her old photo albums, too.

She had hundreds of pictures with the three guys.

There were only a handful of me.

Even in the only picture with all five of us, I stood at the very back, half my face hidden.

Later, for the first time, they were the ones asking for a group photo.

“Let’s get another picture of all five of us.”

“Let’s put Claire in the middle this time.”

But once they said it, nobody moved.

They suddenly remembered.

The fifth person had already blocked every one of them.

They were finally willing to make room for me.

But I didn’t want it anymore.

Eventually, Ethan sold the house.

The real estate agent looked at the brand-new study and the replacement walnut furniture, then remarked

casually, “You put so much care into this place. How can you bear to sell it?”

Ethan lowered his head.

Without warning, tears fell onto the desk.

Only then did it sink in.

Every part of the house finally looked the way Claire wanted it.

And she would never spend a single night there.

Meanwhile, I got promoted.

My department threw me a party.

The cake had my name on it, and maple-glazed salmon was on the table.

When it was time for a group photo, my coworkers pulled me into the middle without a second thought.

“All five of us. Nobody gets left out.”

As the shutter clicked, I suddenly smiled.

It didn’t take six years for someone to remember me.

And I didn’t have to keep putting my own feelings last just to be wanted.

As for what became of those four, I never asked again.

The person they left behind for six years had already moved on.

By the time they finally learned to look back, I was long gone.