Chapter 3

After hanging up, I took a photo of the bed.

I posted it on my social media.

[Many thanks to my ex-fiancee’s childhood friend for the wedding gift.]

The next second, my phone was flooded with calls.

Most of them were from Lana.

She usually would not reply to messages for a whole week, yet when it came to Harold, she acted like an overprotective mother hen.

“What did you mean by that post?

“Don’t you know Harold is applying to the top university around the world? What you posted could get him rejected!”

I did not reply. I hung up and blocked her number instead.

At 3 a.m., I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. So, I decided to scroll through my Stories.

The most recent post was a photo Harold had uploaded from a bar. It had a caption.

[Is getting married more important than me?]

The woman who had gotten into a huge fight with me last night was leaning against Harold’s shoulder with cheeks flushed.

The comments praised her loyalty for making time to be with a friend even on her wedding day.

Some mutual friends could not stand it anymore and pointed out that Lana was already married. They urged Harold to show some restraint.

Before he could reply, Lana jumped right into the comments herself.

[I’m just having a drink with my friend. Weston isn’t that petty.]

[If he can’t even handle that, then I’ll just skip it.]

I liked the post with a blank expression.

I was so focused on blocking her phone number that I forgot she was still on social media.

After taking a few sleeping pills, I finally started to feel sleepy.

Just then, my phone rang.

“Weston, it’s bad.

“Lana’s being harassed at the bar. Can you come help her?”

My head was spinning a bit, so it took me a moment to process what he was saying.

“I’m not going. What good am I for this? Just call the police.”

“If you don’t come soon, Lana’s going to get hurt.”

Lana’s screams came through the phone.

Even though I had already decided to cut off all contact with her, we had been in a relationship after all. I could not just stand by and watch her get hurt.

I climbed out of bed, grabbed the keys to my Mayvoche, and rushed toward the bar.

The moment I pushed open the door to the private room, a bowl of red wine rained down from above.

As the leader, Harold saw how disheveled I looked. He doubled over in laughter.

“Weston, you’re so stupid. We just made up some excuse, and you’re here!”

Lana sat on the sofa as she raised an eyebrow confidently.

“Harold, I told you. Weston is that clingy guy you can’t get rid of.

“No matter how badly I treat him, he’ll never bring himself to leave me.”

Harold sat back down next to Lana. “I lost. How are you going to punish me?”

A crowd of people started cheering. “What else could the punishment be? Why don’t you show us a kiss?”

“Just think of it as a dare!”

Lana blushed. “My husband’s right there. You guys are going too far.”

Though she refused verbally, she leaned against Harold anyway.

I stepped forward and poured the champagne from the bottle I had just opened right over their heads.

Lana screamed and looked at me. “Weston, have you lost your mind?!”

I sneered. “You two were kissing so passionately. I thought I’d add some water so you could take a romantic bath together!”

Harold’s curly hair was dripping wet and sticking to his forehead. He looked just like a drowned rat.

Lana reached for a tissue to wipe him down.

She looked up abruptly and locked eyes with me.

“Weston, Harold is just being playful. He didn’t mean any harm!

“You’re a grown man. Is it really necessary to pick on a kid?”

I snorted derisively. “Is that your excuse for sleeping with him?”

Lana’s face flushed crimson. Finally, she stood up and shoved me toward the door.

The neatly arranged champagne tower crashed to the floor. I fell onto the broken glass. A sharp pain stung my back.

“Enough already! Is it any fun to interrogate me like a madman?”

Leaning on the wall for support, I watched Harold lean affectionately against Lana’s shoulder.

Suddenly, I felt utterly disillusioned.