Loved by My Ex-husband's Rival.

When Charlotte Riley arrived at the bar to pick up Zac Gibson, she paused at the doorway when she overheard the conversation inside.

“Zac, Wendy Cooper is back. What about Charlotte?”

Zac’s voice was calm and indifferent. “What about her?”

“You’ve been with Charlotte for three years. Now that Wendy is back, what will you do?”

Through the narrow gap in the door, Charlotte saw Zac light a cigarette.

Smoke curled around him as he remained silent for a moment. Then, in a low voice, he said, “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt Charlotte, but I also can’t let go of Wendy.”

One of his friends sighed. “Wendy was your first love—the one who always lingered in your heart. You two had such a fiery, passionate relationship back then. It’s no surprise you still can’t forget her.”

Another friend interjected, “Come on, though. Charlotte has been with you for three years. She’s beautiful. And you still can’t move on from Wendy?”

Zac rubbed his temples, his voice carrying a trace of exhaustion. “Charlotte is gorgeous, no doubt. But the reason I pursued her? She reminded me of Wendy. For years, I was just searching for traces of Wendy in her.”

“So she’s just a stand-in?” one of his friends sighed. “Man, I actually feel bad for Charlotte.”

Someone else asked, “So when are you going to break up with her?”

Zac flicked the ash off his cigarette. “I don’t know. Charlotte is obedient and understanding. Honestly, I’m a little reluctant to end things.”

A friend patted him on the shoulder. “Zac, you can’t have it both ways. You need to make a choice.”

“Why choose?” another friend said lazily. “Just keep dating both. And if you feel guilty about Charlotte, buy her some gifts. Women are easy to please.”

Zac let out a short laugh. “Not everyone is like you, juggling three or four women at once. I’m not that reckless.”

Outside the door, Charlotte curled her lips in a self-deprecating smile and turned to leave.

She walked along the riverside, replaying the past three years with Zac in her mind.

Three years. She had thought their love was mutual.

But in the end, she was nothing more than a substitute for his first love.

Standing by the river, she stared into the distance. The river flowed silently under the moon, forming a vivid contrast to the bustling city streets.

A tear slid down her cheek.

The fierce river wind lifted her hair.

Charlotte made a decision.

She took out her phone and dialed a number.

“Dad, I’m ready. I’ll come home and go through with the engagement.”

The dark night made the streetlights seem even dimmer. Moths fluttered around the glow.

Standing beneath the light, Charlotte gazed up at the endless night sky. Her voice was soft, calm.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just done playing around. I’m ready to settle down.

“I was wrong before. I was reckless and immature. I shouldn’t have fought with you and run away from home. But I’ve figured things out now.

“I’ll head back to Jersey City once I’ve taken care of things here.”

*

Charlotte walked alone for a long time before finally returning to the Harmony Hill Villa. It was already past ten at night.

Mrs. Zimmer, the housekeeper, saw her come in and handed her a bowl of oatmeal.

“Miss Riley, you’re back. This is the soothing oatmeal you made for Mr. Gibson, right? It got cold, so I reheated it. I was just about to bring it up to him when you walked in. Why don’t you take it to him instead?”

Charlotte didn’t say anything. She simply took the bowl and headed upstairs to the bedroom.

She pushed open the door. The desk was empty. The computer screen was on, but Zac was nowhere in sight.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. The light was on.

He was showering this early?

She set the bowl down.

The constant notification sound from his computer drew her attention.

She moved the mouse and clicked it open.

It was Wendy.

“Zac, I’m back. I’ll arrive at Harbor City Airport at 11:30 tonight. Can you pick me up?”

The message was sent ten minutes ago.

So, that’s why he was showering—he was getting ready to pick up his old crush.

“Zac, these past few years apart, I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I couldn’t forget you. I regret choosing my career and going abroad over staying with you.

“We were both too proud. Neither of us knew how to give in. But deep down, I know you still have feelings for me, don’t you?

“I dated a few guys over the years, but none of them lasted. No matter who I was with, something always felt missing. It took me a long time to realize that I’ve only ever truly loved you.

“I was afraid to come back to Harbor City before. Afraid you’d still hate me. Afraid to see you with someone else. Afraid you wouldn’t love me anymore.

“I was wrong back then, Zac. Can you forgive me?”

Charlotte stared at the screen in silence, her chest feeling tight.

She was about to close the chat window and leave when she saw Zac’s reply.

“Wendy, I just have one question—do you still love me?”

Even while showering, he had to take the time to reply.

Charlotte’s heart clenched.

Zac was always busy with work. He barely had time to text her back.

She had gotten used to it. To avoid disturbing him, she rarely sent him messages anymore.

But for Wendy, even in the middle of a shower, he made sure to reply.

It couldn’t be more obvious whether he loved her or not.

Wendy’s response came almost instantly.

“I do. I only love you.”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up.”

At that moment, Charlotte realized that her three-year relationship had been nothing but a joke.

She silently closed the chat window, placed the mouse back where it was, and pretended nothing had happened.

Then, she walked downstairs to the kitchen and ladled herself a bowl of oatmeal.

Spoonful by spoonful, she ate.

Zac had a sensitive stomach. She had learned to make him a warm, comforting bowl of oatmeal—simmering oats with milk and honey, then adding soft, diced sweet potatoes for a bit of natural sweetness.

It wasn’t quick or easy to make, but because he once said, ‘I like it,’ she had been making it for him for two years.

By the time she finished her bowl, Zac had come downstairs.

His hair was dry, and he had changed into a fresh set of clothes.

“Where did you go? I didn’t see you when I came down,” he asked.

Charlotte replied calmly, “Just went out for a walk.”

Zac put on his shoes. “I have to head out for a bit. If you’re tired, go to bed. Don’t wait up for me.”

Charlotte lowered her gaze and softly responded, “Mm.

“Are you coming back tonight?” she asked.

Zac paused while putting on his shoes. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “There’s an urgent matter at the company. If it gets too late, I probably won’t come back.”

“Oh, alright.”

No arguing. No questioning.

Charlotte had always been understanding.

Zac didn’t think much of it. He finished putting on his shoes and walked out without looking back.

Charlotte went upstairs and pushed open Zac’s bedroom door. As expected, the bowl of oatmeal by his computer remained untouched.

On her phone, a message popped up from Sean Jasper, the fiancé her family had chosen for her.

Sean: “Lottie, when are you coming back to Jersey City?”

To Charlotte, Sean had always been like an older brother. He treated her well, and when he called her Lottie, it didn’t feel like a nickname between an engaged couple—more like an affectionate term an older brother would use for his younger sister.

Charlotte: “After I take care of things here.”

Sean: “Alright. If you need any help, just let me know.”

Charlotte: “Mm, thanks, Sean.”

Sean: “Get some rest. Good night.”

That night, Zac never came home.

The next morning, Charlotte was woken up by the ringing of her phone.

“Hello?”

“Charlotte! My birthday is the day after tomorrow. Don’t forget to come to my party!”

She pulled her phone away slightly, blinking groggily at the contact name—Quinn Spencer.

A friend from Zac’s social circle. They got along well enough.

“Alright, send me the location,” Charlotte replied.

After hanging up, she got up, freshened up, and headed out to the mall to pick out a gift.

She settled on a necklace from a well-known brand, the latest design—one that perfectly suited Quinn’s style.

*

On the night of Quinn’s birthday party, Charlotte arrived early at the venue.

“Quinn, happy birthday.” She handed over the gift.

Quinn accepted it with a polite thank-you.

Just as they were exchanging pleasantries, Zac walked in, his arm linked with an unfamiliar woman.

Their eyes met.

Zac froze.

“Charlotte… what are you doing here?”