Dumped at the Altar While She Ran to Her "Savior"

Henry's POV

It wasn't the first time I was left alone. After seeing every last guest out, I made a phone call.

"Does the deal we made ten years ago still stand?" I asked.

A soft laugh came from the other end. "Yes."

I hung up.

The news about Rachel Trent going on a rampage for the man she loved had already shot to the top of the trending searches.

She had ignored the auction rules, barged into the private room, paid 20 million dollars to take Clarence Spears away, and then proceeded to give every woman who had participated in the bidding a piece of her mind.

The comments section beneath the news articles was filled with people clamoring for gossip.

Every now and then, someone would point out that Rachel already had a fiance.

Those comments were quickly buried under replies like, "The unloved one is the real third wheel."

Clarence's latest post on social media appeared soon after.

It was captioned: "After three years of waiting, I finally got what I wanted today."

The photo showed clothes scattered across the floor, along with a used condom, and a sleeping Rachel in the background.

Unlike the previous 98 times, I didn't lose control or make a scene. I simply clicked on the like button and commented, "Congrats."

Less than half an hour later, Rachel called me.

"I finally managed to calm Clarence down, and you left that snide comment?

"I promise you, this is the last time. He won't pull something like this again."

I had lost count of how many times Rachel promised me it would be "the last time".

At our first wedding, Clarence threatened suicide.

At our second, he pretended to leave the country.

At our third, he threw a wad of cash in my face and told me to leave Rachel.

Every time, he found some new way to cause trouble, and every time, Rachel chose to indulge him.

Her only explanation to me was always, "This is the last time."

Yet, somehow, the next time always came right on schedule.

I had finally come to my senses. There was nothing sincere about the promises that came out of this woman's mouth, and there was no place for me in her heart.

Thus, I simply said, "There won't be a next time. We're done."

There was a long silence on the other end, and then she hung up.

When I went home, I discovered that the locks had already been changed.

I was just about to call a locksmith when the door opened.

Clarence stood there leaning against the doorframe, wrapped in a towel from the waist down. Two scratch marks crossed his chest.

"Rachel was worried about me being out there alone, so she asked me to stay for a while. Oh, I guess she didn't tell you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Rachel walked over in a revealing nightdress.

Her neck and collarbone were covered in hickeys.

"Clarence is still pretty shaken up, so I'm letting him stay for a while," she explained. "I was worried he'd forget the old door code, so I changed it to his birthday."

I nodded and stepped inside, walking past her.

When she saw me pull out a suitcase, panic flashed across her face.

"Where are you going?"