Someone else snickered: "Bro, you and your fiancée didn’t meet at a brothel, did you?"
The room erupted in laughter.
I felt dizzy, glancing at the room number, hoping the person who said those words only sounded like Ryan Hale.
But the conversations continued, and Ryan's distinct, gentle voice destroyed the last bit of hope I had.
He jokingly cursed, tossing a beer bottle on the floor:
"I’ll rip your mouth off for saying something like that!"
"Don’t tell her, or I’ll lose my control over her."
While the room buzzed with laughter, my heart felt as cold as a frosty day in February.
Up until that moment, I thought I had found true love—slow-cooked affection in a fast-food era.
I never imagined I had encountered a devil in human disguise.
"Bro, that was years ago. Are you still looking for someone now?"
Ryan’s tone sounded extremely proud:
"Not yet, I’ll wait until I get bored with her."
I was so angry I felt dizzy, clutching the door to keep from vomiting.
Just from how he belittled me in front of his friends,
there was no way I could continue this relationship.
A server noticed my dazed expression and pushed the door open, delivering a case of beer.