On the day of the wedding, Ayden Scott discovered that Valerie Stewart and I were getting married.

He had a heart attack on the spot, and Valerie immediately announced the wedding's cancellation.

The bride left the groom at the altar and ran off with another man.

At that moment, I became the laughingstock of everyone.

The guests pointed fingers at me, accusing me of being cruel and calling me a murderer. Despite that, I couldn't care less about their opinion. However, even Valerie lashed out in anger. "Why couldn’t it be you who got sick?"

Deeply hurt, I threw my wedding outfit into the trash and made a phone call. "I'll accept the transfer to headquarters."

After Valerie left, the guests I had graciously invited gathered around me.

Their tone was mocking. "If you’ve done wrong, you should admit it. Apologize to Ayden, or I won’t recognize you as a friend anymore."

"Since the wedding didn’t happen, return all the gifts I brought."

"This is such bad luck."

...

Their malice was unmasked, yet I didn’t feel an ounce of pain.

Ignoring them, I walked straight out of the wedding venue and tossed my tuxedo into the trash.

The wedding was held on a mountainside, where few cars passed by. I walked barefoot on the road.

Suddenly, Valerie called.

As soon as I picked up, she began to berate me.

"I kept Ayden in the dark so well. Why did you let it slip and let him find out?"

She was right; she had hidden it perfectly.

The wedding location was a desolate mountainside. Everything was kept simple. She didn’t invite her friends or family, only mine.

Even so, the venue felt empty.

Not hearing me respond, her tone grew sharp. "Ayden didn’t even approve of this wedding to begin with, and now it’s all ruined. It’s your own doing. After finding out, there’s no way we can get married!"

Hearing this, I let out a sneer. "What is he to you? Your mother or your father? Do you need his permission to get married?"

Her voice faltered at my retort.

After a long pause, she spoke again, feigning generosity. "Fine. Just apologize to Ayden. If he forgives you, maybe we can still go through with the wedding."

"No need." I intoned coldly.

She was taken aback by my words.

"What do you mean, no need?" Valerie scoffed, incredulous. "Are you saying you don’t want to get married? Don’t be ridiculous!"

I couldn’t blame her disbelief. After all, we had been together for seven years, and I had been proposing to her six times until she agreed.

Marriage had seemed like my obsession.

I opened my mouth to say something more, but before I could, I heard Ayden's voice on the other end of the call.

"Valerie, did you tell him you wanted to get married?"

Valerie quickly denied it.

"No, no! I’d never marry him."

The next moment, the call ended, leaving me cast aside like nothing.

Suddenly, rain poured down, drenching me completely.

The cold water snapped me awake.

My obsession with marriage had finally turned to nothingness.

When I returned home, I found myself feverish, with my throat burning as if on fire.

I took some medicine and fell into a hazy sleep.

In my daze, I seemed to see Valerie.

She gently touched my cheek, her expression completely different from the anger she had shown at the wedding.

When I sat up, she handed me a bag of luxury goods.

"Even though the wedding didn’t happen, you should still have a ring."

I opened the bag to find the receipt still inside—it was newly purchased.

So, she had never planned anything for the wedding beforehand.

I took the ring and slid it onto my finger.

Then, I raised my hand in front of her.

With a slight tilt, the ring slipped off my finger and fell lightly to the ground.

"Is this Ayden's size?" I asked, staring at her without a change in my expression.

When she heard what I said, a flicker of unease crossed Valerie's face.

Then, as if trying to cover her tracks, she retorted, "Maybe the designer got the size I mentioned wrong. I'll have it redone."

Clicking my tongue, I replied casually, "No need."

It no longer mattered.

Seeing my indifferent attitude, her brows furrowed tightly.

"Minton, how much longer are you going to act like this?" she snapped.

"I was trying to have a civil discussion with you, but look at your pathetic attitude."

"Let me inform you now: because of his health, Ayden will be staying at our house."

Apparently, her rambling had only one purpose—to make Ayden's stay in our marital home.

I didn’t want to argue anymore. After a nod, I turned and went to my room.

Seeing my silence, she assumed I had given in.

She muttered under her breath as I walked away, "Good thing I was smart enough not to put your name on the property deed. Otherwise, who knows how messy this would get."

Later that night, as Valerie lay beside me, Ayden called.

"Valerie," he said, "I’m not used to being at the hospital alone. It’s uncomfortable..."

Hearing his voice, she immediately got up, ready to leave.

At that moment, my phone also rang.

It was my mother.

"Minton, happy birthday," she said warmly. Her voice was loud enough for Valerie to hear.

Instantly, Valerie froze mid-step, her expression stiffening.

"Today is your birthday?" she asked. "Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"

But before I could answer, Ayden’s voice interrupted again, crying on the other end of her call.

After a moment of hesitation, she turned and walked out.

"I’ll be back later," she said.

Watching her resolute figure disappear, I felt no emotion.

I simply said into the phone, "Thanks, Mom. I’m coming home."

Home. My real home.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Finally, my mom replied, "That’s good. No matter what, I support you."

She didn’t ask why I suddenly wasn’t getting married.

She knew me well enough to understand that I wasn’t impulsive; there had to be a reason.

Valerie didn’t come back that night.

The next day, I booked a plane ticket and went to the office to finalize my resignation.

By the time I returned to the apartment, it was the middle of the night.

When I entered the door code, it repeatedly showed an error.

Frustrated, I called Valerie several times, but she didn’t answer.

Desperation led me to kick the door several times.

Finally, after a long wait, the door opened.

The moment she saw me, she launched into a tirade.

"I just got Ayden to sleep, and now you’ve woken him up with your racket!"

I ignored her scolding and asked coldly, "You changed the password, didn’t you?"

At my question, her tone faltered. "Ayden can’t remember complicated codes, so I changed it. It’s easier this way."

Yesterday, she had only mentioned it; today, she couldn’t wait to move Ayden in.

The original door code was the date Valerie and I first met.

"This apartment—I paid part of the down payment too," I said quietly.

Valerie had more than enough money to buy the entire place herself, but back then, I insisted we both contribute to make it feel like a shared home.

Upon hearing my words, her face darkened.

"So what? Are you planning to argue about money now?" she hissed.

A sense of frustration swept through me. Valerie always had a way of derailing the conversation.

What enraged me most was that it was a house I paid for—yet I was locked out.

Seeing me silent, Valerie pulled out her phone. "It’s just money, right? I’ll transfer it to you now."

"Do you really think paying a little gives you the right to act high and mighty?" she continued rambling as she scrolled through her contacts, but after a long while, she couldn’t find my number.

Sighing, I pointed to an avatar on her screen to help her.

On her phone, my profile picture was there, but instead of my name, it was my online username.

No notes. No priority pin.

She hesitated before tapping into the chat window.

The most recent messages were from me, days ago—dozens of texts about wedding preparations, but they were all unanswered.

And at the top of her pinned contacts was not surprisingly Ayden.

Upon realizing that, Valerie’s face turned pale.

She offered a weak explanation. "Ayden has a heart condition, so I need to know about his situation right away."

"Fine. Transfer the money." I remarked.

Anyway, I was leaving, and I wasn’t going to let myself be shortchanged.

This time, she silently sent me the money.

When I finally entered the apartment, I found our bedroom occupied by Ayden.

The cheerful red wedding decorations had been thrown into the trash.

"Ayden said they looked ugly. Honestly, I didn’t like them either, so I tossed them," Valerie hastily explained when she saw me looking at the trash bin.

"He has a heart condition, so don’t make a fuss over these things," she repeated over and over.

I didn’t argue as I might have in the past. Instead, I headed straight to the guest room.

In the middle of the night, she stood outside my locked door, pillow in hand, looking unsure. But she didn’t hesitate for long before turning and heading into Ayden’s room.

The next morning, I woke to find a full breakfast spread on the table.

In our eight years together, it was the first time I’d seen her cook.

I reached for a sandwich, but she darted over and slapped my hand away.

"Ayden has OCD. Don’t touch it," Valerie snarled, then pointed at the other side. "That one’s yours."

Following her gesture, I saw my "breakfast"—a mess of rejected scraps and poorly made leftovers.

I tossed out a casual "I’m not hungry" and left for breakfast elsewhere.

She didn’t seem to care, too busy spoon-feeding Ayden, who she treated like a "big child."

Later, as I headed back upstairs, she stopped me.

"Didn’t you always pester me about going on a date? Well, Ayden wants to go to the amusement park, so let’s all go together."

She thought this token gesture would erase everything unpleasant that had happened.

Just as I was about to refuse, she dragged me downstairs and shoved me into the car.

Shortly after, we arrived at the amusement park. As we alighted from the car, Ayden excitedly pointed to the drop tower.

"Minton, let’s ride it together!" he beamed.

"No." I refused firmly.

Ayden feigned disappointment. "If Minton doesn’t want to play with me, I won’t force it."

But Valerie erupted at his words.

"Minton, can’t you stop ruining the mood?" she snapped.

"Ayden is trying to get closer to you, but you keep rejecting him. Does making others feel bad make you happy?"

Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed my arm and tried to drag me to the ride.

"If you don’t do this, then forget about getting married!"

She always used this line to control me.

But this time, I pushed her hand away.

Her gaze hardened. She called over a bodyguard, who forcibly strapped me into the seat.

"I have acrophobia! I’ve told you that!" I shouted.

It wasn’t a secret; I had told her about my fear of heights many times. However, as if she didn't hear me, she ignored me.