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After My Fiancé Indulged His Intern's Wedding Crash, He Went Mad
NovelShort
Completed
The night before our wedding, my fiancé suddenly told me the ceremony had been changed into a company group wedding, the one his firm was organizing. On the stage, several other couples were happily exchanging rings. And down below the stage stood someone who had no business wearing a bridal gown. Amy Holland was only an intern who had just been made permanent at the firm. She didn't even have a boyfriend, yet there she was in a snow-white gown with a long train, standing right beside Curt Sanchez.
Chapters (4)
第1章
The night before the wedding, my fiancé suddenly informed me that the wedding had been switched to a company group wedding, run by his workplace.
Up on the stage, several other couples were happily exchanging rings.
And down below, there was one extra person who had no business wearing a wedding gown.
Amy Holland was only an intern who'd just been made permanent. She didn't even have a boyfriend, yet there she stood beside Curt Sanchez, dressed in a trailing white bridal gown of her own.
"Mrs. Sanchez, Curt said there was a company event today, so he made a point of letting me try on a wedding dress once, to see what it's like. And I wanted a photo with Curt to remember it by, to soak up a little of your good luck."
Curt explained it to everyone as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He said you had to look out for the new young people, help a young girl live out a dream.
Watching the two of them, I said nothing.
All afternoon, the other couples were taking pictures with their families, while I, the actual bride, stood alone in a corner watching my fiancé and Amy Holland strike pose after pose for the camera.
Even the coworkers standing nearby couldn't stomach it, muttering under their breath about who exactly the bride was supposed to be.
I looked down at the wrinkled wedding gown on my body, then turned and walked toward the changing room.
If his mind wasn't really on the wine, I might as well let him have what he was after.
...
I walked into the changing room and pulled down the zipper of the main gown, custom-made over six months.
The heavy dress dropped to the floor, exactly like the eight years of my youth that had been trampled underfoot.
Out in the main hall, the emcee was enthusiastically herding the couples together for a group photo.
Through the door, I heard every word of it.
The photographer shouted through his bullhorn:
"Mr. Sanchez, lean a little closer to your bride! Arm around her waist, yes, smile a little sweeter!"
The bride he meant was Amy Holland.
Not me.
I changed into my regular clothes, pushed the door open, and walked straight out the hotel's back entrance to catch a cab.
Not one person stopped me.
And not one person noticed that today's real bride was gone.
I sat in the back seat of the taxi and watched the sky slowly darken.
For three whole hours, my phone was as quiet as if it had been switched off.
No messages, no missed calls. Nothing.
Curt was too busy toasting with his little protégée, taking pictures, drinking in the experience, to spare a thought for me.
Not until eight that evening.
The dinner was about to begin when the screen finally lit up.
The moment I answered, there was no concern, and certainly no panic.
Only undisguised irritation.
"Nadia Quinn, where the hell did you disappear to?"
"Don't tell me you walked out on me just because Amy wanted to try on a wedding dress once. You're really going to make a scene over that?"
"It's just a dress, isn't it? Are you really so petty that you'd humiliate me in front of all those people?"
Every word of it blamed me for nitpicking.
He finished tearing into me, and right on cue, Amy Holland's voice came through the line, thick with tears.
"Mrs. Sanchez, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."
"I only wanted to soak up a little of your and Curt's good luck, that's why I was shameless enough to wear it once. If I'd known it would upset you, I'd never have put it on, not for anything..."
What a sweet, understanding little flower.
I could even picture the way Curt was standing there now, aching with sympathy as he shielded her behind him.
Nausea rose in my stomach.
I cut through the guilt-tripping on the other end, my voice unnaturally calm.
"I'm a little tired. I'm going home first."
With that, I hung up on him.
The car went dead silent again.
Beyond the window, the neon lights flickered.
I looked down at the engagement diamond on my ring finger.
Curt had bought it when he proposed two years ago.
He'd gotten the size too small.
He said it was too much trouble to exchange, told me to just make do and wear it.
To prove that I loved him, I'd forced myself to wear it for two years, refusing to take it off even when it left my finger purple.
But now, I saw it clearly.
A size that didn't fit only hurt you the harder you tried to keep it.
I slid it off without hesitation.
And along with it, my eight years of feeling for Curt Sanchez, I threw out the car window.
第2章
I pushed open the door to the wedding suite, and all the red double-happiness decorations looked unbearably garish now.
I walked into the bathroom meaning to splash cold water on my face, and there on the counter I found a pink electric toothbrush.
Beside it, brazenly out in the open, sat a bottle of makeup remover.
My chest dropped hard. I turned and opened the walk-in closet.
Sure enough, right next to my custom coat, several pieces of Amy's cheap office wear were crammed in like they belonged there.
I let out a cold laugh.
I remembered last month, the first time I'd found a trace of Amy, and Curt's impatient explanation:
"Amy's rental is too far away. Sometimes she works late on company projects and can't make it home, so she crashes in the guest room for a night. What's the problem?"
"Stop being so petty all the time. Word gets out and people will say I mistreat my staff."
Crashing for a night?
Whose overnight guest washes their bras and underwear and stuffs them into the man of the house's closet?
I grabbed a black trash bag, swept everything off the bathroom counter, along with every piece of Amy's clothing in the closet, dumped it all in, and threw it out into the hallway.
At two in the morning, the lock turned.
Curt shoved the door open, reeking of liquor and that familiar perfume.
He saw the trash bag at the door, froze for a second, then stormed into the living room in a fury.
"Nadia, what the hell are you flipping out over now!"
He yanked his tie loose, irritated, and pointed down at me.
"The group wedding was today, and you just walked out without a word. Do you have any idea how that makes me look to my coworkers?"
"Amy thinks she upset you. She's been crying and blaming herself the whole time, couldn't even eat dinner! Did you really have to take it this far?"
I sat on the couch and looked at him quietly.
"So you left everyone behind to go drink with her and comfort her?"
Something guilty flickered in his eyes.
But there was no remorse. Instead he raised his voice and shouted, righteous as anything:
"Amy lost her parents young. She's out here in this city grinding away all on her own. I'm her boss. What's wrong with looking after her like an older brother would?"
"Do you have to be this mean? It's honestly nauseating!"
I curled my lip.
"You've taken pretty good care of her, then. You even worked her into your wedding. Don't tell me you took care of her all the way into bed, too?"
Curt's face went red in an instant.
"You... how can your mind be so filthy? If you insist on thinking that way, there's nothing I can do, but Amy and I are completely innocent!"
I looked steadily at the man in front of me, worked up and furious.
Eight years ago he'd had nothing, holding a bunch of discounted roses, swearing he would keep me cradled in his palm and never let me suffer the slightest wrong.
But now, for another woman, he hurled every vicious word he could think of at me without mercy.
Looking at that disgusted face of his, I suddenly felt like I was staring at a stranger.
The last bit of unwillingness in my heart just scattered away.
Calmly, I stood up.
"Who is that dead-fish look supposed to be for!"
Behind me Curt was still going at it, refusing to let up.
"Pick that stuff up off the floor right now and take it to Amy tomorrow!"
I ignored him, walked straight into the master bedroom, and locked the door behind me.
I let Curt pound on the door until it shook, cursing me for being unreasonable.
I went to the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer.
Inside lay a single document.
An offer letter from a top investment bank.
Six months ago, to prepare for this wedding he claimed to have looked forward to for so long, to settle in and be a good wife, I had painfully set it aside.
Now I took the letter out and gently smoothed it flat.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed HR overseas.
"Hi, Susan. If I accept the offer now, is there still time?"
第3章
On the morning of our honeymoon, my bags were packed and I was ready to leave anytime.
I had just gotten my offer letter from the investment bank. My plan was to let this trip to the Maldives be the last stop of our eight years together.
But right before we walked out the door, Curt's phone started ringing frantically.
He answered, and a coworker's panicked shout came through:
"Mr. Sanchez! Amy lost the Morningstar Group contract! She's up on the roof right now, crying, saying she's going to jump!"
Curt went white in the face. Without a second's hesitation, he dropped his suitcase and moved to bolt for the door.
I stepped in front of him and blocked the entryway.
"Curt, today is the first day of our honeymoon. I booked the flights and the hotel six months ago. If you walk out that door today, we're finished. Completely."
Curt lost it and shoved me hard, out of his way.
The force sent me slamming into the sharp corner of the shoe cabinet, and the pain left me bent over, unable to straighten up.
"Nadia, that's a human life! When did you get so cold and selfish?"
He roared at me.
"The Maldives will always be there! You don't work a day, all you think about is having fun. Can't you show a little sense for once?"
The security door slammed shut behind him.
I rubbed my bruised arm and looked around at the red wedding decorations covering the apartment, and I didn't shed a single tear.
I wanted to see for myself just how big a contract could push an intern to jump off a roof. I took a cab and followed him to the office.
But when I got up to the roof, there was no one there.
I went back down to the work floor. It was quiet and empty, and only the break room door stood half open.
Inside there was no panic of someone about to jump. There was a warm, clinging intimacy instead.
Amy, in a delicate spaghetti-strap sundress, stood with her eyes red, leaning close against Curt's chest.
"Curt, is Nadia angry with me? Maybe you should still go on your honeymoon with her. I'm the one who lost the contract. If it comes to it, I'll pay for it with my life. I can carry this on my own..."
Curt's heart ached for her. He pulled her tight against him, patting her back with a gentle hand.
"Don't say foolish things. She's never wanted for anything. She's just a spoiled little princess I've indulged, thinks about nothing but having fun all day. She has no idea how hard people like you work."
"She's nothing compared to you. There, don't cry."
Then the phone in my bag buzzed once.
I opened it. A refund notice from the airline:
【Ms. Nadia Quinn, your booked flight from New York to the Maldives has been successfully refunded. The refund has been returned to the original payment method.】
Before I could even wonder about it, I heard Curt's tender voice from inside the break room:
"Don't cry. I already refunded Nadia's ticket and rebooked it under your name."
"We'll fly out tonight. I'll take you to the coast to clear your head. I'll handle the contract. You matter most."
Amy laughed through her tears and looped her arms around his neck, her voice sweet and coaxing:
"Curt, you're so good to me."
I held my phone, looking at the refund notice on the screen, then at the man and woman wrapped up in each other inside.
In that moment my chest didn't even hurt. There was only a bleak emptiness left.
What Curt had canceled was not just a plane ticket. It was the last chance for the eight years we'd spent together.
I raised my phone and aimed the lens at the gap in the break room door.
And I recorded every frame of the two of them holding each other close.
When the recording ended, I saved it.
Then I turned around, expressionless, and walked out of the company without a shred of reluctance.
Since the two of you are so in love, then I wish you a long and happy life together.
第4章
I went home.
I dragged out two enormous suitcases and started clearing out my things, one by one.
Clothes, cosmetics, and all the little decorative pieces I'd hand-picked myself.
Whatever I could take, I packed.
Whatever I couldn't, I smashed on the spot and threw in the trash.
Half an hour later, the once-cozy wedding home was stripped down to a bare shell.
I set out the printed photo of them embracing in the break room, along with the engagement ring I'd taken off, and a handwritten 《Statement Calling Off the Engagement》, laying them squarely on the most visible spot of the coffee table in the living room.
I had just finished when the lock turned.
Curt pushed the door open, exhaustion all over his face, most likely having just dropped Amy back home and come back to get his luggage.
The moment he stepped into the entryway and saw the suitcases all over the floor and the emptied-out living room, he froze, then his brows knit tight and his face darkened.
“Nadia, are you pulling the running-away act again?”
He walked over, looking down at me, his voice full of impatience:
“It's just one honeymoon. I'll make it up to you later when I have time, isn't that enough? When are you going to grow up and stop throwing tantrums all day?”
I didn't say anything. I just calmly pointed at the coffee table.
Curt followed my finger, and the instant he made out the photo, his expression turned remarkable.
Panic, then guilt, and finally it hardened into humiliated fury.
“You followed me? You actually used some cheap trick to take secret photos of me?”
He suddenly clenched his fists and roared at me:
“Amy and I are completely innocent! She was about to jump off a building. I refunded the ticket to take her out to clear her head, what's so strange about that? Do you have to blow it up into some huge thing?”
“Innocent?”
I looked at him and let out a self-mocking laugh.
“Holding her, telling her she matters most, refunding my ticket behind my back to take her on my honeymoon. Curt, your innocence really makes me sick.”
“Engagement's off. We're done. This place was bought with my down payment. I'll have an agent sell it. Tomorrow, I'll send a mass notice canceling the wedding to both sets of parents and to our bosses.”
I raised the handle of my suitcase and brushed past him.
Now Curt really panicked. He reached out to grab my arm, and I turned to the side and dodged him.
His pride wouldn't let him bow his head, so all he could do was grind his teeth and shout at my back:
“Nadia, if you walk out that door today, don't you ever come back begging me!”
“Don't think I don't know you quit your job just to marry me! Leave me, and let's see how you survive in New York!”
I didn't even turn my head.
The only answer he got was the heavy slam of the door.
Curt stood in the empty entryway, shaking with rage.
He was sure I was only saying it in anger, certain I didn't have much money on me, that I wouldn't make it two miles before crawling back to apologize.
He strode to the balcony and looked down, wanting to watch me hail a cab in miserable defeat.
But in the night below, there was no taxi.
Parked there was a black Maybach with a sequential New York plate.
The door opened.
Robert Weiss, head of the Weiss Group, the man business circles whispered about for his ruthless methods, was stepping slowly out of the car.
He took the luggage from my hand as naturally as anything, then draped a warm, custom-tailored coat gently over my shoulders.
Before getting in, Robert seemed to sense something and lifted his head slightly.
Those deep, cold eyes, carrying an absolute weight of pressure, swept lightly over Curt on the fifth-floor balcony.
One look was enough to drop Curt into an ice pit.
The Maybach pulled away, its taillights trailing streaks of crimson, sliding soundlessly into the glittering night.
On the balcony.
Curt clawed at the railing, knuckles white, his chest heaving.
He finally understood.
This time, Nadia really didn't want him anymore.