His Ex Got the Wedding, I Got My Life Back

Back in the cellar, I pulled out the last four bottles of Heart's Memory. This wine had always been produced in tiny quantities. Not because I didn't want to scale up—because Ethan wouldn't allow it. He said it belonged only to us. He didn't want to share it with anyone. So Heart's Memory was only ever opened on our anniversaries. We'd raised our glasses under the moonlight, laughing. We'd toasted to our love. We'd promised to stay together forever. Back then, his tears fell onto my shoulder again and again. I thought it meant he loved me to the bone. Only today did I realize he was using me to miss someone else. Inside the private room, Ethan was shielding Olivia from drinks. He hadn't noticed me standing in the doorway at all. His cheeks were flushed, and the smile never once left his face. In three years, I had never seen him like this. This version of Ethan was happy. Fulfilled. He was no longer the guarded, distant man he'd always been with me. Sitting beside Olivia, he looked like a painting that had finally been made whole. The people around them kept egging them on, and neither of them bothered to keep their distance. "Come on, let's all congratulate Ethan!" "About time. He used to mope around like a husband who'd been abandoned at home." "Olivia, you have no idea—when you got married, Ethan disappeared for an entire month. We nearly lost our minds." "Thank God he met Emma back then. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened." My name pierced through the noise like a needle. The room went silent for a few seconds. I watched everyone fall quiet, and somewhere deep inside, I was still pathetically hoping Ethan would say something to acknowledge me. I stared at him without blinking. As if by looking long enough, he would admit that our three years together weren't a lie. But waiting it out never gives you the answer you want. After a long pause, Ethan tightened his grip on Olivia's hand. His voice was slow and certain. "Olivia is the one who healed me." The room erupted in cheers. Olivia had seen me standing at the door all along. The look she gave me was proud and dismissive—a victor surveying reclaimed territory. I knew I wasn't welcome in that celebration. Not one bit. I simply signaled the server to bring the wine inside. "Mr. Ethan, here's the wine you ordered." The smile on his face froze the moment he saw me. Something flickered in his eyes—panic. He started to stand, to come toward me, but Olivia kissed him without a second's hesitation. Meeting his gaze, I turned and walked away. In that moment, I fled the battlefield. I didn't have the courage to fight for what I once thought was mine in front of all those people. In the cab, Olivia's messages came one after another. In the video, Ethan was confessing to Olivia in front of everyone while they cheered him on. He was holding Heart's Memory, down on one knee before her. "Olivia, this is the wine I made for you. Do you like it?" "Olivia, this wine is like my life. And you are my life too." He said it with absolute sincerity, and Olivia blushed. At the end of the video was a text from Olivia. "Emma, thank you for brewing that wine on my behalf. Ethan was never yours. I hope you have the self-awareness to accept that." None of it ever belonged to me. Back home, the memories rushed in like poison. Matching slippers sat neatly by the door—except Ethan's pair looked brand new. Matching mugs sat on the counter in their bright colors—except his was coated in dust. Matching pajamas hung on the balcony swaying in the breeze—except his set had never been worn. My life with Ethan was as hollow as two lines that briefly intersect and immediately run parallel. Close in appearance. Worlds apart in reality. He'd never liked any of the things I prepared for him. He only tolerated my existence because Olivia wasn't there. Ethan had never betrayed Olivia. I was the accident. A phone call dragged me back to reality. The wedding photographer, polite as ever: "Miss Emma, I heard you canceled the dress reservation. Should we still go ahead with tomorrow's shoot?" I watched the video loop on my phone, and there wasn't a shred of longing in my voice. "Cancel that too."

I was about to throw out every matching thing we owned when I heard Ethan's key in the door. Seeing me still home, the tension visibly drained from his shoulders. He walked over, took my hand, and smiled gently. "Thank you, my Emma, for being so understanding." "I loved the wine tonight. Olivia loved it too." When I didn't respond, he patiently explained. "Olivia—you know how it is. We grew up together. Just friends. You're not jealous, are you?" "My Emma is so good. I know you wouldn't be jealous." With that, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. Ethan was always different when he was drunk. In that state, he became like an obedient puppy. "Ethan, tell me you love me." "Emma, I love you." "Ethan, tell me you miss me." "Emma, I miss you." "Ethan, call me your wife." "Emma, my wife." All the things he'd never say sober came pouring out without hesitation when he was drunk. I used to be secretly thrilled by it. His tenderness, his warmth, his devotion—they only fully belonged to me under the influence of alcohol. Every time, I tested my place in his heart with the same repeated questions. And every time, I got the answer I wanted. I filled the insecurity inside me with that counterfeit love. But now, I was tired of hearing it. It was time to wake up. I clenched my fists and looked up at him. "Ethan, do you love Olivia?" Ethan didn't hesitate for a single second. "Yes. Olivia, I love you." I stumbled backward, step by step. This was the secret he'd hidden for three years. I heard myself continue. "Ethan, do you want to marry Olivia?" The man's eyes reddened. His lips trembled with something that looked like grievance. He stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in my shoulder like a prayer. "Yes... I dream about it." "Olivia, will you marry me?" Through the haze of alcohol, Ethan had mistaken me for Olivia. The lawyer who always stood above everyone else was now as small and desperate as a child terrified of being left behind. His lack of love for me was a blade, stabbing into my heart over and over. The pain made me tremble. The disappointment froze me to the core. Of course. From start to finish, he had never loved me. I was just a shadow. Now his light had returned, and the shadow was meant to disappear. I didn't humiliate myself further. I didn't answer. In that vast room, the only sound was the clock ticking. I stood there, letting him lean heavily against me, letting his body heat slowly seep into mine. I used to crave his warmth so badly. On freezing winter nights, I'd instinctively press closer to him. In the biting wind, I'd hold his hand and refuse to let go. But now, even though the breeze outside was mild, I was suddenly, impossibly cold. I didn't move, not until my legs went numb, not until he had no strength left. Finally, I shoved Ethan away. He fell onto the sofa and sank into a deep sleep. That night, for the first time, we slept apart. His breathing filled the living room. My tears fell without a sound. The next morning, I was woken by Ethan's phone. His assistant's excited voice came through the speaker. "Ethan, you and Olivia move fast! The wedding planner's been waiting forever. Olivia's already here. Get over here!" "Oh, and what about your wedding with Emma? Want me to notify them to cancel?" The wedding planning company—Ethan had contacted them himself. He'd told me I was working too hard preparing the wedding alone. He wanted to take some of the burden off my shoulders. I'd smiled so happily at the time. I had no idea all those arrangements were for Olivia. Ethan's voice dropped to a whisper. "Keep it down. Don't let Emma hear." He shot up from the sofa and rushed into the bedroom. Our eyes met.