My Betrothal Partner and the Secrets We Share

On my birthday, my boyfriend announced his wedding date with another woman in front of the entire company. I didn’t cry or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly sought him out, desperate for an explanation. But what I stumbled upon was far worse than I could have imagined.

I overheard him talking to one of his friends in the hallway.

“Aren’t you worried Lenore will be upset about this?” the friend asked cautiously.

Daniel sighed, his tone matter-of-fact. “What choice do I have? If I don’t marry Grace, her family will force her to marry some stranger. I can’t let that happen.”

The friend hesitated but pressed on. “But Lenore... she’s been with you for years. Doesn’t that matter?”

Daniel chuckled lightly, a sound that used to comfort me but now felt like a slap to the face. “Lenore’s been mine for eight years. Everyone knows that. What choice does she have but to wait for me?”

Each word hit like a dagger to my chest. Eight years. Eight years of love, patience and unwavering support—and this was how he saw me? As someone with no other option?

Later, my family arranged for me to meet someone they thought would be a more suitable match. A man from the well-known Cortez Family. The day I was to marry this stranger was the same day Daniel married Grace.

As Daniel’s wedding day approached, he couldn’t shake a sense of unease. Something felt wrong. He warned his groomsmen to keep an eye out, worried I might crash the ceremony.

One of them hesitated before speaking. “You haven’t heard? Lenore’s getting married today too.”

***

“Mom, does the Cortez Family’s proposal still stand?” I asked over lunch.

My mom froze, her hand trembling slightly as she held her teacup. Her wide eyes locked on mine. “Why are you asking about that?” Her concern was written all over her face.

Just hours earlier, a video of Daniel proposing to Grace had gone viral, dominating every social media platform. The public was abuzz with the news of the upcoming wedding of the Rollins Family's sole heir. But the bride wasn’t me—the woman who had stood by his side for eight years.

“Lenore,” my mom said again, her tone firmer now, “marriage isn’t something you should rush into. I don’t want you to decide this because your impulsive mind kicks-in.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. “I’m not being impulsive, Mom. You didn’t reject the Cortez Family’s proposal immediately, which means you think Frederick is a better choice than Daniel. I trust your judgment.”

She sighed deeply, placing her hands on the table. “Frederick Cortez is indeed a good man, but marriage is a lifetime commitment. Don’t you think you should meet him first? Take some time to get to know him?”

“I’ll skip that part,” I said firmly. “You can handle the arrangements. I’ll go along with whatever you think is best.”

We discussed the details over lunch and afterward, I returned to the small apartment I’d bought for myself. What I didn’t expect was to find Daniel there. The sound of the door opening caught his attention. He closed his laptop and looked up at me as if everything were perfectly normal. 

“Busy day at work? You’re home late.”

I slipped off my shoes, my mind racing. “Why are you here?”

“I had a business dinner nearby,” he said casually, standing up and walking toward me as he always did. “Thought I’d stop by to check on you.”

As he got closer, a familiar floral scent hit me—Grace’s perfume. Revulsion churned in my stomach. I instinctively took a step back, dodging his outstretched arms, while a sting crept into my eyes and nose.

“What’s wrong?” he asked lightly, as if unaware of what he’d done.

“Nothing,” I replied stiffly. “Well, you’ve seen me, alive and breathing. You can go now.”

His smile faltered, but he quickly recovered with a soft laugh. “Last week, you were upset because I hadn’t been spending more time with you. Now I’ve cleared my schedule just to be with you and you won’t come near me? Come on, Lenore, don’t do this.”

I squinted, as my memory replayed the events of yesterday.

Yesterday was my birthday and I waited all day, from the moment the sun rose until it set, hoping to hear from him. But not a single call or text came. By nightfall, the silence had become unbearable and I decided to go look for him. Before I could, though, a message popped up on my phone—a video from an unfamiliar number.

Curiosity turned into dread as I played it. The video showed Daniel, standing in the center of his office, proposing to Grace Solis in front of their colleagues. The room was filled with cheers and laughter,

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My mind raced, searching for some explanation, any reason that could make this make sense. Desperation carried me to his company, determined to hear the truth from him directly. But instead of finding answers, I stumbled upon his conversation with his friend. 

“Lenore’s been mine for eight years. Everyone knows that. What choice does she have but to wait for me?” I had waited. For eight long years, I’d waited for a man who never truly saw me. Every word I overheard was a dagger, shattering the remnants of the trust I had so stubbornly clung to. It was in that moment I realized what I had become—a fool, holding on to a love that was never mine to begin with.

Thinking back to his words, to the laughter in that video, the pain in my chest was overwhelming, leaving me gasping for air. I had been a joke all along.