Ditching My Fiancé Three Days Before Our Wedding

Three days before my wedding with Ethan.

My best friend, Chloe, sat crying on her couch, sobbing that she had fallen in love with someone she shouldn't have.

That night, I stayed with her and drank until we were both wasted.

Then, I called Ethan to come pick us up.

Half an hour later, I heard those familiar footsteps stop right beside me.

Ethan leaned down, gently pinching my cheek just like he used to do whenever I got drunk.

"Hazel?" he whispered.

I bit back a smile and pretended to be asleep.

I thought that once he realized I was faking, he'd let out a helpless sigh, scoop me up in his arms, and kiss me senseless as a "punishment."

Just like he had done a thousand times before.

But the next second, he turned away from me and walked over to Chloe.

"Chloe, why did you drink so much?"

Chloe sleepily grabbed his sleeve. "Ethan..."

He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down and cooed, "I'm right here."

I lay there, frozen on the couch. Every drop of alcohol in my system evaporated instantly.

At that exact moment, I realized something.

I knew exactly who Chloe was in love with.

Ethan carried Chloe to the front passenger seat first. His movements were practiced and natural.

When he finally turned back to carry me, I slowly opened my eyes.

"Ethan, why did you carry her first?"

His steps paused. He looked down at me, his voice low and soothing.

"She's much drunker than you. You can stretch out and lie down in the back seat. It's more comfortable."

I nodded slowly. His logic made sense.

But for some reason, my chest still ached.

I looked down, pretending the alcohol was hitting me again, and weakly grabbed the hem of his jacket.

"Ethan."

He looked down at me. "Yeah?"

"If you ever cheat on me, I'll ruin you."

He let out a low chuckle, treating me like a drunk, unreasonable girl throwing a tantrum.

"I could never. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

I didn't say anything. I just slowly closed my eyes.

The bridge of my nose stung with unshed tears.

As we went through an intersection, a pedestrian suddenly ran across the street.

Ethan slammed on the brakes.

My forehead hit the back of the front seat. The pain made my vision go black for a second.

His first instinct, however, was to reach out his arm to shield Chloe.

Only after Chloe was securely settled did he look up, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.

I quickly shut my eyes.

I didn't even dare to analyze whether he was worried about me, or just trying to see if I was awake.

Before I knew it, the car stopped in front of Chloe's apartment building.

Ethan got out, bent down, and carried Chloe inside.

I slowly pushed the car door open and followed them.

The hallway was quiet, with only the echo of our footsteps.

I kept a few paces behind them.

Over and over, I kept telling myself in my head: Maybe you're just overthinking.

But the next second, Ethan pressed his thumb against the biometric lock. The door clicked open.

I froze, staring in absolute disbelief.

Chloe stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Their silhouettes tangled together as they stepped backward into the apartment.

In that single moment, I realized.

Some questions didn't need to be asked anymore.

Through the half-open door, Ethan finally looked up.

The moment he saw me standing there, it was as if he'd been slapped awake. He pushed Chloe away abruptly.

"Chloe's drunk. I was just helping her upstairs."

My gaze drifted to the biometric lock. I asked quietly, "Did you set up your fingerprint just to help her upstairs, too?"

Ethan went silent for two long seconds before speaking in a low voice.

"She needed help with wedding samples and client drafts before. I just helped her out a few times."

"Was kissing her also part of the job?"

Chloe's eyes were red as she spoke up.

"Hazel, don't blame him. It was all me..."

"Chloe, since when is it your job to explain things for my fianc?"

Ethan immediately stepped forward, shielding Chloe behind his back.

"Enough, Hazel. This has nothing to do with her."

I looked at him calmly and nodded.

"Right, it has nothing to do with her. I shouldn't have followed you up, I shouldn't have seen it, and I shouldn't have asked."

A flash of panic crossed Ethan's eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

I shook my head.

"I've spent the entire car ride making excuses for you."

"But I'm done lying to myself. We're over."

With that, I turned around and walked away.

Hurried footsteps echoed behind me.

Ethan grabbed my wrist, his palm burning hot against my skin.

"Hazel, stop talking out of anger, okay?"

"We've been together for eight years, not eight days."

"The wedding dress is picked, the venue is booked. Our wedding is in three days."

"You were up until midnight yesterday editing our wedding video."

My steps halted.

That video was a collection of proposal clips he had secretly recorded in countless places.

From our college campus to street corners, from snowy mountains to the beach.

Eight years of our lives, pieced together second by second by my own hands.

My eyes welled with tears.

At that moment, I almost wanted to ask him: Ethan, can you cut ties with Chloe right now?

But before I could speak, a soft whimper came from inside the apartment.

"Ethan..."

The next second, his grip on my wrist loosened.

"Her stomach is acting up. I need to go check on her."

He took two steps back inside, then paused, looking at me as if fearing I would actually disappear.

"Hazel, wait for me downstairs."

"Wait till I get back, and we'll talk."

I looked at him and slowly pulled my hand away.

"Okay."

Ethan visibly relaxed and turned back into the apartment.

I stood there, pulling out my phone to open the WhatsApp wedding planning group.

I suddenly remembered when Ethan first started out as an independent wedding planner.

He had worked through the night, revising the itinerary over and over again.

I had asked him, "It's just one wedding. Why are you working so hard?"

He had looked down and smiled.

"Because every bride is trusting us with a once-in-a-lifetime dream."

"A wedding planner's most important job is to never let the bride down."

Later, for our own wedding, he spent over three months tweaking the design.

Chloe had also volunteered to be our wedding coordinator.

I stared at the chat box, and finally sent out a single message:

[The wedding is canceled.]

In the back of the Uber, my phone buzzed continuously.

This time, it was Chloe.

I picked up.

"Hazel, please don't be reckless, okay?"

Soon, the voice on the other end changed to Ethan's.

"I was wrong tonight."

"But you can't throw away everyone's hard work just because you're mad at me."

I stared out the window and said softly, "Ethan."

"Do you remember what you told me when you planned your first wedding?"

"Well, you've completely let your bride down."

With that, I hung up.

My fingers clenched tightly around my phone.

I couldn't understand.

Why did it have to be them?

The two people closest to me had personally destroyed the future I had looked forward to for so long.

I lowered my head, finally breaking down into tears.

I didn't go back to our shared apartment.

All the wedding decorations were still there, along with everything we had prepared.

But after tonight, I never wanted to step foot in that place again.

By the time I made it to my flower studio, the sky was already turning gray.

The next morning, Ethan's call woke me up.

"Hazel, Chloe lost the bridal bouquet you dropped off yesterday while she was doing inventory."

"Can you put together a replacement? I'll come pick it up."

I held the phone, not answering immediately.

If this had happened yesterday, I would have panicked.

But now, I felt entirely numb.

The contract was still active, and the final payment hadn't been settled yet.

"Okay," I replied.

I opened the walk-in cooler.

Since my own wedding was supposed to be tomorrow, I hadn't ordered any new inventory.

The only flowers left inside were the ones I had saved for myself.

Ethan had helped me pick them out, stem by stem.

I pulled them out, trimming the stems, removing the thorns, and wrapping them with ribbon.

With every cut of the shears, it felt like I was snipping away a piece of our past.

Just as the bouquet was nearly finished, the doorbell rang.

Ethan had arrived, with Chloe trailing right behind him.

When Ethan saw the flowers on the table, his face fell.

"Hazel, aren't these..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

I bent my head to tie the final ribbon.

"Yeah, they were meant for my wedding tomorrow."

Ethan frowned.

I handed the completed bouquet to him.

"I don't have anything else."

After a pause, I smiled faintly.

"No more flowers, and no more wedding."

Just as he was about to speak, Chloe tugged at his sleeve.

"Ethan, we're going to be late."

Ultimately, he took the bouquet.

"Hazel, wait for me to get back."

After watching them walk away, I opened my email on my phone.

At the very top of my inbox was an admission letter from a prestigious floral design school in Paris, received three days ago.

Honestly, I had waited for this opportunity for a long time.

But Ethan had told me that once we were married, I shouldn't go running off to other countries.

I tapped the confirmation link again.

And booked a one-way ticket leaving tonight.

I began canceling everything related to the wedding.

With every vendor chat I closed, it felt like I was tearing out a piece of my own soul from the last eight years.

In the end, only the venue setup remained, which I didn't have the authorization to cancel.

By the time I arrived at the hotel to find Ethan, the bride's reception was already underway.

On stage, the bride held my bouquet, her face glowing with happiness.

The bride choked up as she spoke into the mic:

"The person I want to thank the most today is Chloe."

"My original bouquet was lost by the florist."

"But Chloe put this one together at the last minute so I wouldn't have any regrets."

Ethan spotted me in the banquet hall almost immediately.

He walked over quickly, blocking my path.

"This is the first wedding Chloe is coordinating on her own."

"She worked so hard on this. Don't make a scene now."

I hadn't said a single word.

Yet in his eyes, my mere presence made me the villain who was there to ruin Chloe's moment.

I pulled out the floral delivery receipt from my bag.

Chloe's signature was clearly written on it.

Chloe's face turned pale, and she immediately reached out to grab it.

"Hazel, can we talk about this after the wedding, please?"

"I know you're mad at me, but today is about the client..."

Hearing the commotion, the bride's mother walked over.

"Is there a problem here?"

Chloe lowered her head, her voice trembling.

"I'm so sorry, this is my fault."

"The bride was under a lot of stress, and there was an issue with the original bouquet. I just made a quick replacement."

With that one sentence, all eyes fell on me.

I looked up at Ethan.

But he only gently pressed down on my wrist.

"Let's just get through the wedding first."

I suddenly remembered how, in the past, whenever something went wrong, Ethan would always stand by my side without hesitation.

Back then, even without proof, he believed me.

Now, knowing the truth, he was telling me to back down.

The bride's mother looked at me cold-eyed.

"Miss Brooks, today is my daughter's wedding. Whatever business issues you have, they shouldn't be brought here."

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

I had already lost my own wedding.

I didn't want to ruin another bride's day.

Numbly, I sat down on a sofa outside the banquet hall.

Through the half-open door, I saw Chloe's manager scolding her with a dark expression.

"You were in charge of inventory. You lost the bouquet and then had the client thank you publicly?"

Chloe kept her head down, tears streaming down her face.

Ethan stood beside her, making excuses on her behalf.

Once the manager left, the hallway fell quiet again.

Ethan turned and walked toward me.

"Are you happy now, Hazel?"

"Chloe worked herself to the bone for this."

"Did you really have to destroy all her hard work?"

I suddenly burst out laughing.

"Ethan, is Chloe really that important to you?"

"So important that you can't even tell right from wrong anymore?"

Ethan seemed to finally register what he had said. His expression stiffened, and he took a step closer to me.

"That's not what I meant."

"Things were just too chaotic. I was stressed, and I took it out on you."

He was always like this during our past arguments.

He'd make me cry first, then soften his voice to comfort me.

And as long as he apologized, I would always cave.

"Ethan, for work matters, contact my assistant."

"As for our personal life, we're done."

Ethan let out a bitter, frustrated laugh.

"Have you had enough of this tantrum?"

Chloe also spoke up, her eyes red. "Hazel, this joke is going a bit too far."

Before the words could fully leave her mouth, a sudden commotion broke out inside the banquet hall.

The groom stormed out, his face incredibly dark.

The next second, he threw the bouquet violently on the floor right in front of us.

"Didn't we explicitly tell you guys that the bride is highly allergic to gardenias?"

I instinctively looked down.

Among the scattered white roses on the floor, there was a single gardenia stem.

Chloe froze, her face instantly losing all color. Tears fell from her eyes right on cue.

"Hazel, I know you hate me."

"But the client is innocent..."

Ethan frowned, turning his gaze to me.

"Hazel, I never thought you could be this malicious."

I curled my lips into a bitter smile, staring straight back at him.

"Me neither."

Ethan startled, clearly not expecting that response.

He knit his brows, lowering his voice. "Hazel, now is not the time to be stubborn. Apologize to the client first."

Chloe chimed in softly, her eyes red. "Hazel, the bride is resting in the bridal suite. Just go apologize."

She made it sound like she was trying to help me.

But every word she spoke was framing me for the crime.

The groom was completely furious now, pointing a finger at us as he yelled, "Is this how you run a business?"

"You're quick to take credit, but when something goes wrong, you just point fingers?"

Their family members quickly surrounded us, pushing and shoving, demanding an explanation.

Chloe gasped, stumbling backward.

Almost at the same time, someone shoved my shoulder hard.

My foot slipped, and I fell onto the floor.

As Ethan rushed over, I still looked up.

In that split second, my body reacted faster than my brain.

Eight years of habit made me believe he would check on me first.

But the next second, he brushed right past me.

He pulled Chloe into his arms, shielding her.

"Stop pushing!"

Just then, the paramedics arrived.

The bride was wheeled out.

Chloe held her wrist, her eyes brimming with tears.

Ethan immediately supported her. "Chloe, I'll take you to the hospital."

I pushed myself up from the floor, blood trickling down my leg from my scraped knee.

A hotel staff member nearby handed me some napkins. "Miss Brooks, you should tend to your leg."

I looked at Ethan. He was busy adjusting Chloe's coat, never once looking back.

In the emergency room hallway.

Chloe sat next to Ethan while he softly comforted her.

I sat on the opposite bench, letting the nurse clean the scrapes on my knee.

The alcohol stung, making my fingers tremble.

It wasn't until the nurse called out my name to sign the paperwork that Ethan seemed to remember I was there.

"Hazel?"

He walked over, his brows furrowing when he saw my bloody knee.

"How did you get hurt like this?"

I didn't answer.

"Hazel, tonight was too chaotic. Don't overthink things."

"Go home and rest. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning to head to the venue."

I looked at him and slowly pulled my leg back.

"Okay."

He turned and walked away.

And I walked in the opposite direction.

By the time my flight landed in Paris and I turned my phone back on, a flood of notifications rushed in.