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Chapter 2

Author: Bitter Orange
It took me a long time to gather myself enough to stand.

As I descended the stairs, my ankle twisted painfully, sending a sharp jolt through me. I glanced down at my shoes—my heels had already rubbed my skin raw, leaving a bloodied line at the back.

So, it wasn’t just the wedding dress that didn’t fit. The heels didn’t either.

I used to think he was just too busy to bother with trivial details and too preoccupied to understand these "women’s matters."

I raised my head and looked again at the white roses and violets arranged in the garden. They were Anne’s favorite flowers.

It all made sense now. None of this was ever meant for me.

Even earlier, walking along the garden path to the wedding venue, my feet had already been rubbed raw. Now, with a twisted ankle and stepping over gravel, every step felt like torture.

Servants passed me without a glance, their heads lowered as they carried trays of food into the banquet hall. No one offered me a hand. Why would they? Just as I turned to leave, Evan had ordered them not to interfere.

I kicked off the heels and tossed them aside. If they weren’t mine, I didn’t want them.

Barefoot, I stepped onto the sharp gravel, each agonizing step leaving fresh bruises until I finally reached the entrance.

I pulled out my phone to book a ride to the hospital, but when it came time to pay, my bank account balance flashed, showing insufficient funds.

The sky had grown dark and heavy with swirling clouds that threatened a downpour at any moment.

How could my balance be zero?

I checked again and again, logging out and refreshing the app, but the result didn’t change.

It was still zero.

A cab I managed to hail slowed briefly before the driver sneered at me. "No money? Then don’t waste my time."

The car sped off, leaving me standing there humiliated.

I thought long and hard, and only one explanation came to mind: my parasitic family.

At a time when I needed support the most, they had already hidden their knives, ready to strike when I was at my weakest.

I sat on the curb, hugging my knees, until the chime of my phone pulled me from my thoughts.

Evan’s voice came through with a tone of condescension, as if he were coaxing a stray cat or dog.

"The ceremony is over. You can come back and take a group photo with us. Otherwise, there won’t be anything to look at on our anniversary."

"No need." I wiped the water from my face and only then noticed it had been raining for an hour, leaving me drenched to the bone.

"Claire, I’m giving you a way out, but you’re refusing it! What’s gotten into you?" Evan’s tone grew colder.

"You don’t have a penny to your name right now, and if you keep acting ungrateful, I won’t hesitate to let you find out what it’s like to live on the streets."

"How do you know I don’t have any money?" I asked, stunned.

He let out a scoff, his voice dripping with disdain. "From your greedy parents and brother. Do you think I wouldn’t notice? They treat me like an ATM, showing up every other day to ask for money. It’s exhausting. So, I gave them your bank card password."

I froze, the weight of his words crushing me.

"But don’t worry, I can support you, no problem, but I’m under no obligation to take care of your family."

So that was it. Years of hard work, the savings I’d carefully built up—they had drained it all, leaving me nothing.

"You come with so much baggage," he sneered. "Your entire freeloading family, all their endless troubles. Anne never drags me into these kinds of messes."

His words cut deeper than the cold rain.

Anne was ever so sweet, so considerate, and so perfect in his eyes.

He actually believed she had never bothered him?

My mind flashed back to when I just got pregnant. My parents had come demanding money again. Knowing I’d need the savings during maternity leave, I refused for the first time.

That was all it took for my brother to explode in anger, accusing me of growing a backbone after marriage. In the scuffle, he shoved me down the stairs.

I had nearly lost the baby. My arm was dislocated from the fall as I desperately protected my stomach.

When I called Evan, he was busy comforting Anne, who had run away from home after an argument with her father.

The moment Evan realized it was another issue with my family, he grew impatient and tossed the phone aside, barely listening to what I had to say.

Instead, he focused on soothing Anne, promising that if her parents favored her brother again, he wouldn’t hesitate to make them suffer some business losses.

I clutched my dislocated arm, redialing his number over and over. When he finally picked up, all I got was a curt response, "Handle it yourself."

To make matters worse, he had already taken it upon himself to share my bank card password with my family, claiming it was the last time he’d clean up my mess.

The call was still connected when Anne’s playful voice rang out in the background, "Evan, if Claire doesn’t come back, it’ll just be the two of us standing in the center. Won’t she get jealous?"

Evan’s reply was laced with indifference, clearly meant for me to hear.

"Don’t worry about her. She brought this on herself. Even if she doesn’t show up for the photo, she still owes you an apology."

I stayed silent, hanging up without a word. Then, swallowing my pride, I borrowed money from a friend and headed to the hospital to register at the obstetrics and gynecology department.
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  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 17

    A year later, I returned to the country and, with the encouragement of a lawyer friend, filed a lawsuit against my parents and brother to reclaim the money they had stolen from my bank account. All they could do was hurl insults at me, but their words were nothing more than a passing breeze, barely worth a second thought. With no home or money left in the city, they were forced to slink back to their rural hometown, drifting further and further from my life. There was no point wasting my breath on them anymore. When I received another offer for a long-term overseas position, a colleague handing over the transition paperwork couldn’t help gossiping. "Your ex-husband, Evan? He’s really hit rock bottom now," she said with a sly grin. Intrigued, I listened as she shared the details. Apparently, after realizing he couldn’t win me back, Evan returned to the country. He ended up living with Anne, who persisted in clinging to him. Anne, eager to secure her position, tried to use a

  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 16

    Life abroad went smoothly. My manager even entrusted me with organizing the next quarter’s special commentary series. However, Evan was relentless. He followed me overseas, delivering fresh roses every day and buying any piece of jewelry he noticed me glancing at in-store windows. Even a few of my foreign colleagues started joking about how I must have some irresistible charm, placing bets on what he’d gift me next. I returned everything he sent, untouched, with a note attached: "These gifts, like your love, are cheap and meaningless."Perhaps stung by those words, he started trying to do things he thought would actually matter. On Christmas Eve, during a snowstorm, he knelt outside my door, shivering as he confessed, "I’ll endure every bit of pain I ever made you go through." He looked battered and frail, a shadow of his former self, as snow fell and blanketed his shoulders. The sight reminded me of another snowy night, years ago. That time, my car broke down on a desert

  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 15

    After the divorce, I applied for a company program to study abroad. I had given up far too many opportunities for Evan, so much so that even my supervisor used to comment on how unfortunate it was for someone with my prestigious education to be held back. I rented an apartment near the office, but the harassment from my parents didn’t stop. They bombarded me with calls, even threatening to show up at my workplace to expose me for "not supporting my family." I was prepared to file a lawsuit against them, but to my surprise, Evan beat me to it and took them to court first. When he came to tell me this, I was in the middle of packing my bags for a late-night flight abroad. Watching me rush around, noticeably thinner from the stress and my workload, his expression was a mixture of regret and concern. "Claire, I know we’re divorced, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve gone over the things you gave me again and again, reflecting on everything. I’ve realized how much I hurt

  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 14

    Evan was taken into custody, and an investigation was opened against him. His company’s stock plummeted, hitting a record low. When the police escorted me out of the villa, I stood in the courtyard, taking a deep breath of the fresh air I hadn’t tasted in what felt like forever. The police contacted my family, but when they arrived, it wasn’t concern on their faces—it was anger. "How could you send your husband to jail? Are you trying to ruin your life?" "Claire, how could you be so cruel? Evan treated you well, and this is how you repay him?" my brother sneered. I smiled brightly, meeting their accusations head-on. "Yes, I’m exactly that cruel. Are you just figuring that out now? Oh, and one more thing. As of today, I’m cutting ties with all of you." My father’s face turned red with fury as he stepped forward, ready to strike me. I casually stepped behind a police officer. "Hold on, don’t rush to attack me. You’ve taken plenty of money from the Scott family over the ye

  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 13

    Evan placed a hand on my shoulder. "I’ll arrange for the reporters. Just follow the script I’ve prepared, and everything will be fine." I nodded in agreement, subtly stepping out of his embrace. Sure enough, by the next day, the reporters had arrived. He couldn’t wait even a moment longer, unwilling to let his precious first love endure another day of public criticism. The script Evan had prepared for me was neatly printed out with lines meticulously crafted to shift all blame onto me. All I had to do was read it word for word, taking full responsibility for everything. The interview was a live broadcast, but I had been in front of cameras countless times for work and felt no trace of nerves. As the two bright lights illuminated my face, the broadcast began. Instantly, the live chat exploded with hateful comments, each one nastier than the last. I ignored them all, keeping my composure as the reporter prepared to begin. But instead of the script, I reached under the s

  • Left Behind on My Wedding Day   Chapter 12

    The next day, Evan came back, dark circles under his eyes making it clear he hadn’t slept all night. Rubbing his temples, he started with a command. "Claire, I’ve looked into what happened yesterday. Here’s the plan—you’ll just have to put up with the homewrecker label for now." I stared at him silently, and he avoided my gaze, adding, "Anne isn’t married yet. Her reputation can’t be tarnished." I had long known he would defend Anne unconditionally, but hearing it still struck me as absurd. "And what about my reputation? Does it not matter? Am I just supposed to accept the online abuse and insults?" Evan, completely unashamed, acted as though it wasn’t a big deal. "Well, you’re already married to me. Your reputation doesn’t matter as much anymore. Besides, isn’t your job all about dealing with this kind of stuff? If it really affects your work and you get fired, I can afford to take care of you." I worked as an on-air news analyst for a media company, and facing public

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