Two Weddings on the Same Day

Andy laughed over the phone like a child. Feeling flustered, I hung up abruptly.

I returned to the home I shared with Mark in a cab.

I quickly packed up all my belongings and arranged for a moving service. Just as I was about to leave, Mark walked through the door.

His eyes swept over the half-empty living room. He frowned slightly and handed me a black credit card from his pocket.

"Are you downsizing? Take this card and buy whatever you like," he said, his tone lighthearted.

Mark seemed to be in a good mood.

I stepped forward and lightly touched the corner of his mouth. His smile made me feel a wave of discomfort, almost physically so.

"You seem happy," I asked, pretending not to know.

Mark lifted me off the ground and spun me around. Then, he kissed my forehead and held me tightly in his arms.

"Claire, I got a promotion," he said, his voice trembling with excitement.

My heart felt like it had been plunged into an icy abyss. Tears began streaming down my face before I could stop them.

It was hard to believe. Just hours ago, Mark had registered his marriage with another woman, yet there he was, spinning me around in celebration.

I was not even worth the truth to him. I was nothing more than a pet he kept at home for amusement.

We had been together for three years, and I had brought up marriage countless times.

However, Mark always avoided the topic. When he could not avoid it anymore, he would make vague promises, feeding me false hope.

"I will marry you soon, Claire," he would say.

He had finally married someone else.

As Mark sensed something was off, he tightened his hold on me and asked with a trace of panic, "What's wrong, Claire? Are you feeling unwell?"

I wiped my tears, broke free from his arms, and looked him straight in the eye. With as much composure as I could muster, I asked, "Mark, are you ready to marry me this year?"

A flicker of panic crossed his face. Just as he opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, the front door clicked open. A woman stepped inside, holding a set of keys.

She walked up behind Mark and wrapped her arms around him.

"Is this the little songbird you keep at home?" she asked, her tone dripping with disdain.

Her gaze fell on me, filled with scorn, as if I was not worth her attention.

So, that was the truth. For three years, I had been nothing but his mistress. Finally, the rightful woman had arrived, and it was time for me to leave.