I Was Missing From My Own Wedding Photos

Chapter 2

The next morning, I skipped the office and headed straight to the high-end bridal boutique we'd booked before.

"Ms. Sullivan, are you here to try on your wedding gown?" The store manager greeted me warmly as she hurried over.

"I'm here to cancel the order." I handed her the original payment receipt. "The wedding's off. Please process a full refund for me."

The manager froze, her expression turning visibly awkward. She stammered as she looked at me.

"C-cancel? But... but Mr. Lawson called this morning. He said he wanted to add a rush order for a lighter gown to your wedding dress booking. And the measurements are... for Sienna."

I lowered my eyes to my reflection in the countertop and let out a laugh.

So he was using my wedding dress designer to make a gown for his childhood sweetheart?

"No need. Process a full refund for my portion of the order. As for Sienna's gown, Mr. Lawson can pay for that himself."

Once I left the bridal boutique, I stopped by the wedding planning company and the hotel we'd reserved. One by one, I canceled every booking with both Nathan's name and mine on it, wiping away every trace of the wedding we'd been planning.

With everything taken care of, I settled into a café, pulled out my phone, and tapped the final confirmation button for my overseas transfer request on the company's internal system.

At exactly 6 p.m., I arrived at the restaurant Nathan had reserved and took the window seat.

I wasn't there for his so-called "apology dinner." The restaurant was simply the closest one to the airport I'd be leaving from that night.

I gazed out at the glittering night view of the harbor and slowly finished my meal over the next 2 hours.

Just as the waiter came by for the fourth time to refill my water, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Nathan.

Nathan: Urgent last-minute meeting at the office. I'm sorry, Nora. Go ahead and eat without me. I've already paid the bill.

A second message came right after.

Nathan: I asked my assistant to drop off a cake for you.

10 minutes later, his assistant hurried into the restaurant, sweat beading on his forehead, and set an elegant cake box in front of me.

"Ms. Sullivan, Mr. Lawson specifically told me to wait in line at that really popular bakery on social media in the south of the city. He wanted you to have it while it was fresh," he said.

I opened the box.

Inside was a delicate mango mousse cake.

I stared at the bright golden mango pulp, then calmly closed the lid.

I was severely allergic to mangoes. A reaction could send me into anaphylactic shock.

We'd been together for 7 years. There was no way Nathan didn't know that.

And yet he'd sent me this anyway. Because mangoes were Sienna's favorite fruit.

He hadn't forgotten what I liked.

The moment he'd ordered the cake, his mind had been filled with what that other woman liked.

His absence and thoughtless gesture didn't make me angry at all.

Instead, I felt completely light.

Soon, I wouldn't have to put up with any of this anymore.

I pushed the cake back toward his assistant and said in calm tone, "I don't eat mangoes. You can throw it out."

The assistant froze, the color draining from his face. He clearly realized how serious the mistake was.

"M-Ms. Sullivan, Mr. Lawson must've just been busy and forgotten..."

"Don't make excuses for him."

I picked up my trench coat from beside me and stood.

"Go back and tell him he doesn't need to buy me anything ever again."