He Chose Her On Our Wedding, I Left Him Behind

Chapter 3

At one in the morning, Julian finally made it back to the apartment.

I had already checked into a hotel near the airport and tucked my passport and documents into my carry‑on.

A voice message came through from him.

"Vera, I'm back. Where are you?"

I didn't reply.

A few minutes later, more messages appeared.

Julian: The ring fell in the wine. It's done. Tomorrow I'll take you to buy a bigger one.

Julian: We'll reschedule the banquet for next week. Don't let today ruin your mood.

Julian: I know you're upset. Come home.

I set the phone down on the table and went to wash my face.

As the water ran over my eyes, that photo was still there, burned into my mind.

The phone on the table lit up. A location‑sharing alert popped up.

Family member Julian Heath is viewing your location.

We had set up a family account to prepare for the wedding. We shared calendars and locations. I had never turned it off.

I reached for the phone to log out. Then the doorbell rang.

I glanced at the time. I didn't open the door.

Julian's voice came through the wood. "Vera, I know you're in there."

I sat on the edge of the bed, pressing my palms flat against my knees.

"I'm not coming in," he said. "Just open the door. Let's talk."

I walked over and stood on the other side. "Talk about what?"

"The wedding postponement."

"There is no postponement."

"You announced a breakup in front of everyone. I can take that as you being angry."

"You can't."

A long silence from the other side.

I could picture him standing there, probably still holding whatever he had brought.

In the past, every time we argued, he would come back with a cup of warm water, a convenience store label stuck to the side reminding me to drink some first.

This time, nothing slid under the door.

He must have forgotten even that.

"I bought you a new ring," he said. "One carat bigger than the old one. Tomorrow we'll go pick out a new dress. We can change the venue too."

I slowly let go of the doorknob.

"Julian, I don't want a new ring."

His breath caught for a moment.

"Then what do you want from me? I already told you. Vivian and I are nothing."

"Then why were you wearing the groom's tuxedo with her today?"

"Her groom ran out on her."

"So you stood in his place."

"I was just helping her finish the shoot."

He stopped.

I looked down at the screenshot on my phone. The post had gone up at 8:17 PM.

At that hour, he was supposed to be sitting at the head table, receiving toasts from both families.

"You said it was a last‑minute thing." My voice was quiet. "Her caption said 'thank you for lending me a light.' She also said you promised to stay for all four sets of photos."

Silence.

Then his voice came again, lower this time. "She wasn't in a good place today. I couldn't just leave her to deal with it alone."

A soft sound from outside the door. Like he had leaned against it.

"You're different from her. You've always been strong."

I looked at the passport on the table. Then I opened the door.

Julian stood in the hallway, his suit jacket slung over his arm. His face was tired, drained from a sleepless night. He was holding a jewelry box.

I didn't take it.

His eyes moved past me to the suitcase behind. His brow tightened.

"Where are you going?"

"When are you coming back?"

I pulled the suitcase forward and looked at him calmly.

At that moment, my phone lit up on the table. A message from the overseas assignment coordinator.

HR: Ms. Wells, your flight has been confirmed. AF127, departing 6:40 AM. Wishing you a safe journey.

Julian stared at the screen. His expression shifted completely.