My Fiancé Said I Looked Lonely So He Found Me a ‘Friend’ to Share Him Chapter 02

My Fiancé Said I Looked Lonely So He Found Me a ‘Friend’ to Share Him Chapter 02

Ethan didn’t reply.

I didn’t wait for him.

I quietly started packing the things I planned to take with me.

Early the next morning, Ethan kicked my bedroom door open.

“Vivian Hale, how could you be this cruel?”

I frowned.

For one stupid second, I thought he was here because of my breakup message.

I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.

“You turned off the heat in the guest wing last night.”

“Mira gets cold easily, and she didn’t know where the thermostat was.”

“She froze all night.”

“Now she has a 103-degree fever.”

Just then, Mira appeared in the doorway.

Her face was pale, and she leaned weakly against the frame.

“Ethan, don’t blame Vivian.”

“This is my fault.”

“Please don’t let the two of you fight because of me.”

The second she finished, she started coughing hard and swayed on her feet.

Perfect timing.

Ethan immediately stepped over to support her.

When he looked back at me, his eyes were filled with disgust.

“Happy now?”

“I already told you the wedding is still happening.”

“You’re still going to be Mrs. Sterling.”

“What more do you want?”

“Do you really have to drive Mira out and make her sick before you’re satisfied?”

My fingers curled into fists.

My voice came out hoarse.

“Ethan, if I told you it wasn’t me, would you believe me?”

I stared straight at him.

Seven years together.

He knew exactly what kind of person I was.

At least, I had believed he did.

He barely hesitated.

“If it wasn’t you, who else could it have been?”

That was the moment the last bit of hope inside me shattered.

Seven years ago, I fell for Ethan the first time I saw him.

Back then, he worked as a host at an upscale nightclub.

Wealthy customers grabbed at him, flirted with him, and treated him like part of the entertainment.

I used the money my parents had left me to help him.

I begged people for meetings.

I pulled every connection I had.

I helped him find investors.

In a cramped studio apartment, I stayed beside him through countless sleepless nights.

I watched him go from having nothing to building a multimillion-dollar company.

I thought we’d finally made it through the worst.

I never imagined he’d toss me aside the second life got easy.

“Mira’s only twenty-two,” Ethan said.

“She’s eight years younger than you.”

“Can’t you cut her some slack?”

“She’s sick.”

“I don’t have the energy to keep coddling you too.”

Coddling me?

I looked up.

The last trace of warmth in my eyes disappeared.

“You think I’m throwing a tantrum?”

His tone became even more impatient.

“Aren’t you?”

“Mira moves in, and suddenly you’re canceling the wedding and turning the whole house upside down.”

“I already told you the wedding is still happening.”

“Your place is secure.”

“What the hell are you still unhappy about?”

I almost laughed.

So in his mind, all I cared about was becoming Mrs. Sterling.

“If I brought another man into this house, would you tell yourself to cut him some slack?”

His face darkened immediately.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What do you think?”

My voice shook, but I refused to cry.

“She’s wearing your shirts.”

“She’s sleeping in the room beside yours.”

“She gets sick, and you stay up all night taking care of her.”

“Then you come storming into my room, accuse me of hurting her, and demand that I be understanding.”

I looked him straight in the eye.

“Ethan, tell me.”

“What exactly am I to you?”

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Then Mira coughed weakly beside him.

Ethan turned toward her without thinking.

Worry filled his eyes.

Some answers didn’t need to be spoken.

I gave a small laugh, even though my eyes burned.

“Go take care of her.”

He frowned.

“Vivian…”

“Don’t worry.”

I cut him off.

“I won’t make a scene anymore.”

He stared at me for a few seconds.

Then he turned and left.

Of course he did.

His footsteps faded away.

The living room fell silent.

I crouched down and picked up the clothes scattered across the floor.

One by one.

My phone lit up.

It was a message from the bridal boutique.

[Ms. Hale, your final wedding dress fitting is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.]

[Would you like us to keep the appointment?]

I had spent three months drawing the design for that dress.

I had changed every tiny detail again and again before finally approving it.

My fingers trembled as I typed my reply.

[No.]

[Please cancel it.]