He Ripped My Wedding Dress for Her

On our wedding day, Tristan's first love got into a car accident. He ripped the wedding dress right off my body to cover her with it.

In front of all the guests, I stood on the stage in nothing but my underwear.

I grabbed a tablecloth to cover myself. When I reached for him, he slapped me to the floor.

"Vivian cares about her image. She can't lose her dignity! Don't you have any shame?"

He carried his first love away, his eyes full of devotion.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and smiled.

He probably forgot what was in the prenuptial agreement. If the wedding was canceled, his entire family would be saddled with a billion dollars in debt.

Tristan's mother was the first to rush onto the stage.

She jabbed a finger at my face, her spit nearly hitting me.

"Can't even keep your own man!"

His father followed behind, putting on a show of composure for the guests below.

I said nothing. I pulled the tablecloth tight around myself.

Then I turned to the crowd and bowed.

"I apologize for this scene."

I straightened up and took the microphone. My voice carried through the entire hall.

"Today's wedding is postponed. The groom, Mr. Foster, has suffered a sudden medical emergency."

"The situation is urgent. He needs immediate medical attention."

I gave the Foster family and him one last shred of dignity.

Back in the dressing room, I looked at myself in the mirror. Disheveled. The blood at the corner of my mouth had dried.

I took off my underwear and threw it in the trash. Then I changed into my own clothes.

I slipped off the wedding ring and dropped it in too.

My phone buzzed. A text from Tristan.

"I'm at Central Hospital. Bring a change of clothes for Vivian."

No apology. No explanation. Just an order.

I looked at the photo of us on my phone. The man who once ran across half the city to buy me cold medicine was gone.

He died in that slap just now.

I replied with one word. "Okay."

My assistant called, her voice urgent. "Miss Sterling, I've sent the draft divorce agreement to your email."

I opened the email and skimmed through it.

"Article Nine. The breach of contract debt, triple the penalty clause."

"Yes, Miss Sterling. I'll revise it right away."

I started my car and drove toward the hospital.

In the hospital corridor, Vivian lay on a hospital bed with my wedding dress covering her.

Tristan was gently helping her drink water.

I pushed the door open.

He immediately stood up and blocked Vivian, his eyes full of wariness.

"What took you so long? Are you trying to freeze Vivian to death?"

He forgot that just dozens of minutes ago, it was me standing on stage without clothes.

I ignored him and tossed the clothes onto the bed beside them.

"Where is Miss Shaw hurt?"

Tristan thought I was jealous. His expression softened as he reached for me.

"Seraphina, don't make a scene. I was just helping someone."

I stepped aside. His arm froze midair. A flicker of displeasure crossed his face.

He pulled a black card from his pocket and pressed it into my hand.

"Take this. Go buy yourself a bag. You've had a long day."

Vivian spoke up from the hospital bed, her voice very weak.

"Seraphina, what about the wedding dress now that it's dirty? Tristan specially prepared it for you."

Tristan nodded. "Yeah, take it back and wash it clean. After all, it's your wedding dress."

I watched them sing in harmony and smiled.

Right in front of Tristan, I snapped that black card in half.

"Sorry, my hands hurt. I can't wash it."

With that, I turned and left without looking back.

I returned to the house Tristan and I were supposed to share as newlyweds.

Every corner here was decorated by my own hands.

Now it just seemed ironic.

I pulled out the suitcase I had prepared and packed my things.

There wasn't much-one suitcase was enough.

Late at night, Tristan came home.

He reeked of alcohol. When he saw the suitcase by my feet, he frowned.

"Seraphina, what are you throwing a tantrum about now?"

He hugged me from behind, burying his head in the crook of my neck. His voice sounded exhausted.

"Stop making a fuss. I have a pile of work at the company, and Vivian got hurt. I'm tired."

"Only when I'm by your side can I feel at ease."

His breath on my neck made me feel nothing but disgust.

My body stiffened as I pushed him away.

"Go take a shower."

My tone was cold.

Tristan finally lost it.

"You've got some nerve. Seraphina, don't think I won't do something about you!"

He slammed the door and stormed off to the study.

He thought that, like before, if he ignored her for a few days, she'd come crawling back.

Too bad. Not this time.

The next day, he kicked open my bedroom door and threw a dress onto my bed.

"Get up. Put this on. You're coming with me to a party tonight."

"I'm not going."

"I'm not asking for your opinion!" He grabbed my chin hard. "Seraphina, our wedding became the laughingstock of the entire city. Tonight you will pretend to be a loving wife with me and restore the Foster family's reputation!"

The party was packed.

Sure enough, the moment Tristan and I walked in, we became the center of attention.

Whispers buzzed all around us.

"Look, that's the bride who got left at the altar. How pathetic."

"Pathetic? She just couldn't hold onto her man. That's all."

A rich playboy strolled over, wine glass in hand, a smirk on his face.

"Mr. Foster, I heard you played hero at your own wedding and ditched the bride? That true?"

Tristan's face darkened. He stepped forward.

"Watch your mouth. My wife is not for you people to gossip about."

For a moment, watching him protect me, I felt a bit dazed.

I seemed to see the Tristan from three years ago who would stand against the whole world for me.

But the next second, Vivian appeared.

She wore a dress in the same color scheme as mine and stood not far away.

Then she twisted her ankle and fell toward Tristan.

Tristan instinctively pushed me away and rushed over to catch Vivian.

In my high heels, I stumbled from his push and nearly fell.

Once again, all eyes in the room focused on me.

Tristan supported Vivian, soothing her gently. "How can you be so careless? Are you hurt?"

Vivian shook her head, her eyes reddening. "Tristan, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to see you."

Tristan took off his jacket and draped it over Vivian's shoulders.

That jacket had been on my shoulders just moments ago.

Vivian wrapped the jacket tightly around herself and looked at me provocatively.

I held my wine glass and watched them coldly.

To comfort the frightened Vivian, Tristan decided to leave early.

He left me alone at the party.

My business rival, Mr. Lewis, walked over with a wine glass.

"Miss Sterling, newlyweds and all-why are you alone? Where's Mr. Foster?"

I put down my wine glass and looked at him.

"Mr. Lewis, instead of concerning yourself with my personal affairs, why don't you think about how you're going to explain that hole-riddled new energy proposal to your board of directors?"

His expression changed.

I took a taxi home alone, watching the neon lights through the car window.

My phone lit up. It was a message from my lawyer.

"Miss Sterling, everything is ready."

Tristan didn't come home for three days straight.

When his call came, I was reviewing the final version of the agreement the lawyer had revised.

His voice sounded gentle, even carrying a hint of flattery.

"Seraphina, do you remember the restaurant where we had our first date?"

I flipped through the documents and hummed in acknowledgment.

"They make that lemon fish you love so much."

"I remember you said it was the best you'd ever had."

I quietly pressed the record button.

"Really? I forgot."

Tristan's breathing hitched, as if he hadn't expected this reaction from me.

He quickly adjusted his tone.

"Seraphina, don't be angry. What happened at the wedding was my fault."

"But Vivian's situation was urgent. I couldn't just let her die."

"You've always been kind and understanding, haven't you? Won't you forgive me this time?"

Listening to his hypocritical excuses over the phone, I found it laughable.

I had achieved my purpose with the recording. I didn't want to hear his nonsense anymore.

"Is there something you need?"

"Vivian's body is still very weak. The doctor said she needs proper nourishment."

"She heard that the soup you make is delicious and has been asking to try your cooking."

I hung up directly.

A few seconds later, his message popped up.

"Seraphina, I'm begging you. Do it for me."

I looked at those words and smiled.

I replied with one word. "Fine."

Then I went into the kitchen and made a pot of his favorite black chicken soup.

I used to make it for him often when his stomach was bad.

He always said my soup tasted like home.

I opened the salt container and poured the entire thing into the pot.

This was the taste he hated most.

He had mild nephritis. The doctor had instructed him to follow a low-salt diet.

I carried the thermos to the hospital.

When I pushed open the door to the hospital room, Tristan had his back to me, bending over.

Vivian was leaning against the headboard wearing a necklace around her neck.

That necklace was the one I had my eye on at an auction last week.

At the time, Tristan said that kind of flashy thing wasn't suitable for me.

Now it was around Vivian's neck.

Hearing the door open, Tristan turned around. When he saw me, there was guilt in his eyes.

He instinctively tried to hide the necklace on Vivian's neck.

"Seraphina, why are you here?"

He walked over to take the thermos from my hands.

"Vivian isn't feeling well. She's just borrowing it. I'll return it to you in a few days."

Vivian spoke up sweetly.

"Seraphina, don't misunderstand. Tristan said this is a meeting gift for me."

I said nothing and just placed the thermos on the table.

Tristan quickly opened it, poured a bowl of soup, and handed it to Vivian.

"Try it. Seraphina made this especially for you."

Vivian took the soup bowl and looked at me provocatively, then deliberately let her hand slip.

"Ah!"

The scalding soup spilled all over the back of my hand.

My skin turned red instantly, burning with pain.

But Tristan rushed to Vivian first.

"Vivian! Are you frightened? Did it burn you?"

He nervously examined Vivian's hands, afraid she had suffered even the slightest injury.

Vivian shrank into his arms and shook her head pitifully.

"Seraphina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. My hand slipped."

Only then did Tristan turn back to look at me, his brow furrowed.

"Seraphina, why are you so clumsy? You almost scalded the patient!"

I looked at my rapidly swelling hand. It would soon blister.

This was the last time I would cook for him.

I didn't argue. I just looked at Tristan quietly, my gaze like I was looking at a dead man.

He felt uneasy under my stare and only then noticed my red hand.

He frowned and tried to grab my hand to examine the injury.

"What happened? How careless!"

I shook off his hand and spoke to him in an extremely unfamiliar tone for the first time.

"Don't touch me."

Tristan's expression darkened immediately, anger surging up.

"Seraphina, have you had enough!"

He snatched the car keys from my pocket.

"You stay here and reflect! When you figure out how to be a sensible wife, I'll come pick you up!"

He slammed the door and left, leaving me alone with the gloating Vivian.

Today was my birthday and also the third anniversary of when Tristan and I got our marriage license.

A month ago, he had promised to book the most spectacular fireworks show in the entire city for my birthday.

I had reserved his favorite restaurant and waited from evening until late night. The dishes on the table had gone cold.

He didn't come.

The restaurant TV was playing local news.

"A serious car accident occurred on the city's mountain road. A black Bentley collided with a truck. The scene is critical..."

I knew that license plate on the mangled Bentley all too well.

My heart sank as I grabbed my coat and rushed out.

I rushed to the accident scene like a madwoman.

The area had already been cordoned off. The flashing police lights hurt my eyes.

Tristan's car was parked nearby, completely intact.

Amid the deafening roar of helicopter rotors, several medical staff carefully carried a stretcher down from the mountain.

I rushed over, only to see a trembling pet dog.

Tristan stood nearby looking anxious.

Vivian was crying her eyes out in his arms.

"Tristan, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have taken Coco out for a walk."

"It's okay. I've already had the best veterinarian waiting at the hospital. Coco will be fine."

So the so-called serious accident was just Vivian's dog rolling down a hillside.

And Tristan had deployed his private helicopter to rescue a dog.

Rain poured down. I stood there soaking wet.

I took out my phone and called him.

The phone rang for a long time before being ruthlessly disconnected.

Unwilling to give up, I called again.

This time the call was answered, but it was Vivian's voice.

"Seraphina, looking for Tristan? He's busy right now."

In the background, I could faintly hear Tristan's impatient voice.

"Ignore that crazy woman. Such a buzzkill."

Those words stabbed into my heart like a knife.

Soon Tristan grabbed the phone and yelled at me.

"Seraphina! I told you to stay home! What are you doing running around outside like a lunatic!"

"Get your ass back home right now! Stop embarrassing me out here!"

I said nothing, just looked up at the sky.

Brilliant fireworks suddenly exploded overhead, one after another.

Those were supposed to be my birthday gift.

Now they illuminated Tristan's figure in the distance, holding Vivian tightly to comfort her.

The last trace of love in my heart burned out with those fireworks and turned to ash.

The clock struck midnight.

I called my lawyer.

"We can proceed."

I opened the message I'd prepared long ago, attached the scan of the breach clause from the prenuptial agreement, and hit send.

"I, Seraphina Sterling, hereby formally announce the dissolution of my engagement to Mr. Tristan Foster."

In an instant, Tristan's phone exploded with calls.

But he was busy cutting cake with Vivian and her dog, celebrating their narrow escape. He ignored every single one.

I sent one final message to the entire Foster family.

"Everyone, the wedding is officially canceled. According to the prenuptial agreement, the Foster family must return Sterling Group's one billion dollar investment within three days, plus three years of interest, totaling 1.3 billion."

Tristan finally saw it.

He smirked and replied.

"Seraphina, stop playing these childish games."

The next second, a notification from the bank popped up.

"Dear Mr. Tristan Foster, due to legal proceedings, your bank account has been frozen."