Chapter 3 Things I Thought Were Mine

I had nowhere to go, so in the end, I could only check into a cheap budget hotel. The room was pitifully small, and even the curtains were old.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I called Rosalie first. The moment she answered, the first thing she asked was, "Ju, have you been crying?"

My nose stung, but I still told her I had not.

She was silent for a moment before asking softly, "Did you and Charles fight? People online have been talking about you."

My heart sank. The thing I had feared most had still happened.

As soon as I hung up, I checked social media. The story was not high on the trending list, but it was high enough for everyone who mattered to see. And the headline was painfully conspicuous.

'Pregnant Best Friend Registers Marriage, Homewrecker Makes a Scene'

They had put together a whole collection of pictures underneath it—the video from the private room, photos outside the vital records office, and old pictures of Charles and me together.

The most disgusting part was how thoroughly they had twisted the timeline.

They claimed that Charles and Diana were the couple, and that I had inserted myself into their relationship later. They even said that because my sister's illness had cost so much money, I had desperately clung to Charles because I needed someone to financially support me.

The comments were filled with every kind of vicious accusation, yet I read them one by one. My eyes burned terribly, but I could not even cry.

Before long, a message came from my company as well.

Because the negative public attention surrounding me had affected the company's image, I was formally notified that my employment had been terminated.

I stared at those words for a long time without reacting.

I had worked myself to the bone for that job.

When I first started as an intern, I stayed up all night with clients revising proposals, so exhausted that I secretly wiped away tears in the bathroom. Later, as I took on more projects, there were often days when I barely slept more than a few hours at a time.

I had thought at least one thing in my life was entirely my own. But apparently, even that was not truly mine.

…

By evening, I still went to the Graysons' place. Not because I still had any hope left. I simply wanted to see what I had really meant to them after all these years.

I had never been to that estate before. After seven years of dating Charles, I had never met his parents even once. Every time I brought them up, he told me that his family was traditional and that we would talk about it later.

And I had actually believed him.

When the door opened, Charles' mother, Laura Hawkins, noticed Diana first. She immediately took Diana's hand and greeted her warmly. "You must be Diana. Come in, dear."

I stood at the doorway, being ignored like I was invisible.

When Laura finally noticed me, she frowned and asked Charles, "Who is she?"

Suddenly, I felt inexplicably nervous. But after only half a second of silence, Charles answered coldly, "She's a new chauffeur the company hired."

I stood there, looking down at my plainly dressed self, and understood everything. Compared with Diana, I was not someone he was proud to bring home. I was not presentable enough for his family.

Laura immediately lost interest in me and turned back to Diana, enthusiastically chatting with her.

Invitation samples and bridal magazines were spread across the coffee table. I only glanced at them, but it felt as though someone had suddenly yanked hard at my heart.

That invitation was one I had chosen.

Six months ago, Charles and I had stayed up late choosing it together. He told me that when we eventually held our wedding, we would use that exact design.

The design sketch tucked inside the bridal magazine was also one I had once loved.

At the time, I had thought it was too expensive and had not had the heart to order it. Charles had held me in his arms and promised that once his year-end bonus came in, he'd buy it for me.

So, it was not that he had refused to buy it. He had simply bought it for someone else.

Laura flipped through the invitation samples and said softly, "Make sure the names are changed."

Charles took it from her and casually called the wedding planner. "Change the name to Diana Sayer. And take her measurements again."

Even as he said those words, his expression did not change in the slightest.

I listened to them and felt as though my chest had been hollowed out.

Only after Laura took Diana upstairs did Charles finally walk over to me. "I…"

I looked at him without saying anything.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Whatever you need, I can still help you."

I suddenly wanted to laugh. "Did you always think I stayed by your side because you had money?"

Charles frowned. "Wasn't that the reason? Unlike you, I never wanted anything from you. I don't owe you anything."

I looked at him, and the last remaining warmth in my heart went completely cold.

Just then, I got a call from the hospital.

The nurse sounded extremely urgent. "Are you Rosalie Whitfield's family member? The patient's emotions suddenly became unstable, and her condition has deteriorated. Please come to the hospital immediately."

My vision went black for a moment before I turned and ran.

…

By the time I reached the hospital, Rosalie had already been transferred to the observation ward. The doctor said she had seen the things being said about me online, and her emotions had suddenly collapsed.

Her health had already been poor to begin with, and the shock had nearly been more than her body could withstand.