Exposed Her Affair at Our Wedding

The day before my wedding, I was driving a friend to their hotel when I ran into my fiance and her ex-boyfriend checking into a room together.

Just ten minutes earlier, she'd texted me: Babe, can't wait for you to make me your wife tomorrow.

I swallowed my rage and recorded a video of them kissing.

The next day at the wedding, I played the video for everyone to see.

The moment the cheating video started playing, the venue exploded.

Michelle's brother Anthony reacted fastest, pointing at the staff and shouting.

"What the hell did you people do! Playing this kind of video at a wedding!"

"You dare humiliate the Thompson familydoes your event planning company have a death wish!"

"Where's your manager! Get me..."

Anthony quickly fell silent, frozen like the other guests, staring at the screen.

I nodded with satisfaction.

"Everyone, today is Michelle's and my breakup party. From now on, we're done. Please, eat and drink your fill."

Michelle realized she was the star of the video and rushed over frantically, trying to grab me and explain.

But I'd already dropped the microphone and walked out.

The second I left the hotel, my dad called.

I let my AI assistant handle him.

When I'd first told him I was marrying Michelle, he'd been so thrilled he went on a three-day drinking binge.

He'd told everyone he met that I was marrying a rich man's daughter, bragging about how capable I was.

Now that this marriage was falling through, he'd be the first to object.

Back home, my dad kept calling non-stop.

The more I looked at it, the more irritated I got. I just yanked out the SIM card.

After tossing my wedding suit in the trash, I headed to a bar.

With a new phone, I couldn't see whatever chaos they were in.

The bar owner spotted me and came over with a teasing smile.

"Flying solo today? Where's your fiance?"

I glanced behind me and smiled. "She'll be here soon."

The next second, a familiar figure appeared.

Michelle was frantically pushing through the crowd.

Eyes on her phone, she squeezed her way toward me.

A man who'd been watching me suddenly rushed toward her, but Michelle fought him off hard.

I couldn't hear what he said, but it made her face twist with resentment as she shoved him away ruthlessly and kept searching through the crowd.

The man watched Michelle from a distance, his expression desolate and pained.

In the flickering bar lights, I couldn't make out his face clearly, but he looked familiar somehow.

I assumed he was one of Michelle's friends who'd spotted me and tipped her off.

But thinking back, I couldn't place him at all.

Then the bar owner called out to me. "George, your fiance's been calling my phone.

What, you two have a fight?"

I looked up. The bar owner thought I wanted to answer and just picked up. Very considerately put it on speaker too.

The moment he answered, Michelle's shouts came through.

"I know you're at the bar. Please tell me where. Just give me a chance to explain."

I hung up immediately. The owner looked stunned.

"Aren't you going to find your fiance? Aren't you worried she might be in danger?"

I glanced at the man from beforehe'd already disappeared into the crowd.

I muttered distractedly, "She's not my fiance. She doesn't need me."

When I got back from the bar, it was two or three in the morning.

I looked up to find Michelle crouched by my door.

This was always what she did after screwing up.

"George, I went to the bar but couldn't find you. Your phone's off too."

"How much did you drink? You can barely stand."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up inside."

Michelle rushed up to me excitedly, acting like nothing had happened as she fussed over me.

I shoved her away hard. "Get lost! Don't touch me!"

Michelle froze, her eyes wounded.

"George, the event company pranked us. The video was deepfaked."

"I've already hired a lawyer to sue them. I'll definitely find evidence..."

"I took the video myself."

I looked at her coldly. "You were so into that kiss outside the room, you didn't even notice I was nearby."

Michelle's face went white. She stood there frozen and lost.

My stomach was full of alcohol. The slightest stimulation made it churn.

I shoved past Michelle blocking my way and dove into the bathroom, hugging the toilet as I vomited until tears streamed down my face.

Michelle followed me the whole time.

Handing me tissues, finding hangover medicine, cooking noodlessilently taking care of me without a word.

But every second, my mind replayed the scene of her passionately kissing her ex.

Seeing her meticulous care now just felt jarring and laughable.

"Michelle, I don't want to see you anymore. Leave my house right now."

Suddenly, the sound of a bowl shattering came from the kitchen.

She didn't say anything for a long moment.

After a while, she placed the cooked noodles in front of me and cleaned up the broken pieces herself.

"George, just calm down for now. I'll come back in a few days so we can talk properly."

I leaned back on the couch, hand weakly covering my eyes.

"Get out."

I didn't touch anything on the table. I slept on the couch all night with my arms wrapped around myself.

Early the next morning, someone pounded on my door.

The moment I opened it, my dad charged in without caring if he knocked into me.

"George! Did a donkey kick you in the head?"

"Michelle's a daughter of a wealthy family. Of course she has an exthat's completely normal. Once you're married you'll have everything. You'd ruin the wedding over something so trivial!"

"All our friends and family were therewhere am I supposed to put my face!"

My head was splitting from his ranting. I said weakly:

"Dad, did you not see the video from the venue?"

"She was checking into a hotel with her ex the day before our wedding..."

My dad waved his hand dismissively, refusing to listen.

"Don't give me that!! Michelle's fourth-generation wealth. Men lining up to marry her. This happened because you couldn't keep her satisfied.

If you had what it takes to make her devoted to you alone, this wouldn't have happened. You're about to move up a whole social class.

You want to just walk away? You're 30 years oldwhere are you going to find another woman who can help you more than Michelle?"

I wasn't surprised at all to hear these words from my dad.

He had no bottom line when it came to money, especially rich women. But I couldn't be like that.

"Dad, if you like Michelle so much, why don't you have her call you daddy."

My dad was so furious his mustache bristled. He raised his hand to slap me.

I'd drunk too much last night and hadn't eaten a thing. With this provocation, my stomach cramped painfully and something started forcing its way up.

I shoved my dad aside and rushed to the toilet, retching violently.

My dad kept going, saying I didn't know how to be flexible, had irregular eating habits and loved drinking.

But every sentence ended with Michelle.

"Michelle's beautiful and considerate, with an unmatched family background. If you don't hold onto her, she'll immediately find someone more handsome, more capable, and more understanding than you. Then you'll have nowhere to cry."

His words traveled down the hallway and pierced straight into my ears.

I suddenly remembered that desolate-looking man from last night.

The delayed realization hit me like a sledgehammer pounding my heart.

"Such a grown man who can't even clean up. Why is there blood on the floor?!"

"Only Michelle would put up with you. Any other woman would've blown the roof off by now."

I slammed the door hard and buried myself under the covers.

I curled up into a ball, wrapping myself so tightly in the blanket that no air could get through, and broke down sobbing.

How Michelle and I got together wasn't what my dad described.

It wasn't about me wanting to climb the social ladder while she happened to be a non-assertive rich girl.

We'd been together ten years.

We fell in love during the craziest period when my dad controlled my life.

In our tenth year together, through my own efforts, I bought a condo and a car in the district where her family lived.

I teased her on purpose. "Paid off the condo and car in full, got the wedding gift ready, even bought the diamond ring in your favorite style. How much longer do we need to date before you'll marry me?"

She cupped my face and kissed me, her love consuming.

When we separated, her eyes sparkled as she looked at me.

"This year. Let's get married."

"George, do you still want to marry me?"

I didn't. I should have said I didn't want to earlier.

Michelle, you said now and forever you'd only love me.

I was the one who soothed your past. I was your peaceful present.

I was supposed to be the one walking into marriage with you.

So why, when I was closest to happiness, did you maintain this ambiguous connection with your ex?

My dad clung to me, threatening and persuading by turns.

All to make me reconcile with Michelle.

When all his efforts got no reaction from me, he slammed the door and left in anger.

I locked myself at home. Nobody came looking for me.

I turned off my phone too. Couldn't hear anything.

I lay in bed like a corpse, completely lifeless.

Monday, I went to the office.

The moment my coworkers saw me, they congratulated me.

"The wedding didn't happen. Sorry about that."

My coworker's face showed shock and embarrassment.

"So sudden. Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Let me buy you coffee. Sorry..."

I cut off their apologies with a forced smile.

"No need. It's all in the past."

The busy morning helped me temporarily forget those troubles.

I grabbed my mug and headed to the break room, where I found several people huddled together whispering.

"Why didn't George get married?"

"His fiance's gorgeous and from a great family. Did she look down on him?"

"Don't talk nonsense. His fiance treated him so well. She made him stomach-soothing soups, different ones every day of the week.

Last time he worked himself into a perforated ulcer and ended up in the hospital, his fiance never left his side. After he was discharged, she drove him to and from work for a while. She loved him to the boneyou can't just make things up."

"Then what could it be? Don't tell me George was cheating on his fiance."

"There you go making things up again! We've been coworkers this longdon't you know him? Capable and responsible, easygoing with a good sense of humor, very reliable. That kind of man."

I didn't keep listening. I bought coffee from the vending machine and went back to work.

As soon as I sat down, my dad called again.

I didn't answer, but his messages kept coming.

How could you block Michelle? Are you a child?

Can't you two just sit down and talk things through calmly?

I looked at these words with detachment.

I didn't know how to respond. I felt completely empty inside.

By the time I snapped out of it, my dad was already in my blocked list too.

Thunder rumbled and rain poured down. Wind howled.

Watching my coworkers leave one by one, I finally headed downstairs.

When I opened my bag, I rememberedI'd never been in the habit of carrying an umbrella.

For the past ten years, Michelle had always reminded me.

Before leaving, her eyes would hint at me repeatedly, playfully watching until I grabbed an umbrella.

I'd gotten used to following her lead. As long as it was her, I'd trust unconditionally.

This kind of habitual trust was truly terrifying.

I held my bag over my head and ran through the rain into the parking garage, only to find my car wouldn't start.

I punched the steering wheel in frustration.

It had been fine. When did it break?

In the end, I had to run through the rain to the subway station.

Just as I left the garage, I saw Michelle standing in the rain. The moment she spotted me, she ran over with concern.

"George, why are you soaked? Let's go home first..."

"Let go!"

I struggled free of her hand and kept walking without looking back.

She called after me while chasing me, constantly reaching out to try to shield me from the rain.

"George, I drove here. Let me give you a ride!"

"You have stomach problemscatching a cold will make you miserable!"

"If you won't get in my car, at least take the umbrella. I'll worry if you get sick..."

"Get lost! Stop following me!"

I stopped abruptly and broke down screaming at her.

"Get away from me! Get lost!"

"I don't want to see you! I don't want to hear another word from you! Do you hear me!"

"I'll never trust you again in this lifetime! Get lost! Get far away!"

I shouted until my whole body shook. I couldn't tell tears from rain on my face anymore. My throat felt like it was bleeding from screaming.

Why? Today had been so normal.

I'd finalized a project with clients and eaten properly.

I'd even decided to get my long-delayed stomach issues checked out.

I thought I'd moved on.

Why did seeing Michelle make me fall apart again?

Our only umbrella got knocked out of my hand and was immediately swept away by the wind.

Michelle in her elegant dress was completely destroyed by the wind and rain.

We both stood there looking absolutely wretched.

Despite my harsh rejection, she stood motionless like a statue.

She stared at me blankly, her mouth opening and closing as if calling my name.

Seeing her so confused and dazed didn't give me any relief. My heart only felt heavier.

The scattered people nearby all turned to look at us.

I didn't want to stay locked in this standoff.

After wiping the water from my face, I left with determination.

After getting home and showering, I felt congested with stomach pain.

After taking medicine, just as I was about to lie down, my phone lit up with an unfamiliar number.

"George, you bastard! You even blocked your own father!"

"I've been going crazy! Michelle tried to kill herselfshe slit her wrists!"

"Downtown First Hospital, third floor emergency room. Get here right now!"