My Fiancé Gave My Wedding Dress To His Cousin, I Signed Divorce

Tomorrow is the seventy‑eighth time Drake Harrington and I are supposed to walk down the aisle.

And yet I see Drake show up in his cousin Vera Mallory’s Moments post, where she’s showing off wedding dress photos.

“Big brother’s wedding dress and my jewelry design are a perfect match!”

In the picture, she’s wearing the wedding dress Drake designed for me, along with the jewelry I designed.

Behind her, a man is bowing his head, carefully fixing the train of her gown.

I comment: Little sister Vera is really blessed.

The next second, Vera calls me, trembling as she apologizes. She says she just casually mentioned that she thought the dress was beautiful, and Drake gave it to her.

Then Drake takes her phone. He’s furious, humiliated, and roars at me, “Let’s cancel tomorrow’s wedding for now. I’ll design another dress for you.”

“Your jewelry design is good. Vera’s just starting out and she needs a chance. Give this one to her and design another one for yourself.”

This is the seventy‑eighth time Drake has unilaterally postponed our wedding.

In the past, I would scream myself hoarse asking why he was once again delaying my wedding because of Vera.

This time, I don’t say a word.

I just sign the divorce papers, then quietly buy a plane ticket to go abroad for further study.

…

Five minutes later, Vera posts another update.

“What do I do, my big brother is way too good to me!!”

The picture is a selfie.

She’s still in that wedding dress, but now there’s another necklace around her neck. At its center hangs a rare, perfectly cut, heart‑shaped red diamond, fifty‑two carats.

Underneath, she’s written: I casually mentioned a few days ago that I love Pierce Langley’s designs, and I didn’t expect Big Brother Drake to buy it and give it to me today.

Pierce Langley—I know the name, because I like his work too.

I once told Drake that Pierce Langley was going to have a jewelry exhibition in the country and that I wanted to go.

He said I’d been out of the jewelry design industry for a long time, that there was no point in me going. Then he turned around and took Vera instead.

He called it giving Vera “more exposure to the world” since she was still a newcomer.

Comments from people in Drake’s circle flood in beneath her post.

Tristan Yeats: “Damn, Pierce Langley’s pieces are practically priceless. Drake spoils you way too much.”

Zane Cooper: “Gotta say, Drake’s taste is actually pretty good. This dress belongs on you.”

Leo Foster: “Cut the crap. Isn’t that the dress Drake designed for Sonia? If Sonia sees this, she’s going to flip out again.”

Drake has always resisted letting me into his circle.

From dating to marriage, the only way I know his friends is through Drake’s mouth—or through Vera’s Moments.

So this is how pathetic I look in their eyes.

They all seem to think the one who should be with Drake is Vera, not me, the woman who appeared out of nowhere.

Before, for Drake’s sake, I kept quiet. I told myself as long as there was love between us, it was enough.

Now, I don’t need to force myself to please anyone.

I simply reply under the post: You’re all overthinking it.

The next second, Drake pings me with a single question mark.

“Sonia, what the hell are you throwing a tantrum about now?”

“I told you, Vera is just my little sister. You’re her sister‑in‑law. What’s wrong with taking more care of her?”

“Why do you have to talk about my friends that way?”

“Looks like they’re right about you—you’ve changed. You’ve turned into a jealous, petty shrew who does nothing but bitch and whine!”

The accusing messages keep popping up.

I mute him, delete the chat, then tap into my own Moments.

I unpin and delete every video about Drake at the top of my page.

Then, in silence, I take a screenshot of Vera’s post.