Chapter 2

Tyler's POV

I finally had to acknowledge it as I looked at the absolute devotion evident between those lines—my seven-year relationship with Yvonne meant absolutely nothing.

I sat in the study for the entire night, and the following day, I took some time off work and asked my childhood friend, Ruben Zimmerman, to come along with me to cancel the wedding.

"Have you really thought this through, Tyler?" Ruben asked the moment he spotted me.

"I've thought it through."

"You've been with Yvonne for seven years, and your wedding is only two days away. You're not even going to wait until she gets back? You're just going to cancel everything by yourself?"

"Yes."

"Is Yvonne aware of this?"

"Yvonne is still busy."

"What's she busy with?"

I remained silent.

Ruben qqas quiet for a moment before saying, "If you don't know how to face her, I'll make the call. You and Yvonne have been together for seven years, and marriage isn't a trivial matter. I can't let you go through this by yourself—"

I said softly, "Yvonne is busy with her wedding."

Ruben froze, his expression of disapproval suddenly turning rigid. "W-what are you talking about?"

I smiled faintly and pulled out the chat history I had saved from Yvonne's laptop the night before. I then showed it to Ruben and said, "Yvonne got married in Alveria yesterday. She married Harry Chapman, her first love."

Ruben fell silent, his eyes gradually turning bloodshot. "I remember that just yesterday, you were working late at the hotel, running through rehearsals with the lighting technician until dawn.

"You even sent me a message in the middle of it, asking me to get you some medicine since your stomach was killing you. And while all of that was happening, Yvonne was actually holding a wedding with another man in Alveria?"

I smiled wryly and replied, "Yes."

Ruben didn't say anything else and drove me straight to the wedding planning company. He remained silent throughout the journey, his lips pressed tightly together. He made no further attempt to talk me out of it.

Once I had canceled the wedding, I went home and started packing my belongings. I planned to move out of the house that Yvonne and I had once prepared as our marital home.

Yvonne suddenly sent me a message with a photo of the airport lounge. "I'm so exhausted. I just finished my business trip."

I didn't reply to her message. Instead, I just stared at the lower-left corner of the photo in a daze. I noticed a man's well-defined hand had inadvertently been caught in the shot, the wedding ring on his finger gleaming clearly.

I recognized that ring. Yvonne and I were choosing our wedding rings last year when the sales associate recommended them as the most expensive style in their store and said that there was only one pair available in the entire city. I really liked it, but Yvonne told me it was too flashy and didn't suit me.

It turned out that the person it actually suited was Harry.

I set the phone down, took my clothes out one by one, folded them, and packed them into my suitcase. I couldn't help but furrow my brow when I came across a men's button-down shirt. It smelled strongly of cologne, and there was a note pinned to the front collar. "Harry's Exclusive Sleepwear."

In the seven years Yvonne and I had been together, this was the first time I found out that she had brought Harry home. She had even left a shirt that carried the scent of another man in our closet.

I put the shirt back where I found it and turned around to tidy up the bathroom.

I suddenly felt my phone vibrating in my pocket—it was Yvonne again, making a video call. I hesitated for a moment before answering. She was wearing a beige trench coat, and there was a trace of gentleness on her perennially cold and detached face. "What are you doing, Tyler?"

"I'm packing some stuff."

"How's the wedding planning going?"

"I-it's going fine…"

"I'm flying out today and will arrive in Caldoria tomorrow morning, so it won't hold up our wedding the day after tomorrow."

"Got it."

"What's the matter with you? You seem upset, Tyler."

"It's nothing. I'm just tired."

"I got something for you," Yvonne said as she bent forward and reached into her briefcase to pull out a white box wrapped in ribbon. "You see, a friend of mine got married and handed out some wedding favors. I specifically got it for you so we can share the wedding bliss."

"Your friend?" I echoed Yvonne's words.

Yvonne let out a brief smile that seemed entirely natural, showing no sign of guilt whatsoever. "That's right, a friend of mine."