In the beginning, I screamed at him. Demanded to know why we couldn't just call off the engagement like civilized people and let me keep a shred of dignity. But eventually, I turned into something pathetic—a lovesick fool who'd do anything, no matter how degrading, just to beg for a sliver of his time.
The last straw was when I stood in a downpour to deliver condoms to him and whatever woman he'd brought around just to disgust me—all because I'd been trying to get him to show up for a wedding menu tasting.
Everyone assumed I was just hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.
The truth was different. The time before that, at the engagement ring fitting, he'd decided to humiliate me by turning my family's bankruptcy into a punchline—telling the whole room like it was a funny story, just to watch my face crumble. I snapped. I contacted the tabloids and leaked the story about how he'd hidden his identity and played with someone's feelings.
The fallout hit his family hard. Public backlash. Stock prices in free fall.