Loree Koester got hurt over and over by her dream guy—Harvey Geake—while I dragged her up from nothing to a damn fortune.

Ten years later, she stood at my proposal, eyes full of tears, and said yes.

Then she ditched our wedding ninety-eight times. Every time, same excuse—Harvey threatening to kill himself.

On the ninety-ninth, she didn't even hesitate. Left our friends, our family—hell, left her ring on the floor.

"Rowan, just wait a little longer. Two hours. I'll deal with Harvey and come right back."

I'd already waited ten years.

I wasn't waiting two more hours.

Loree picked up a call and bolted, right in front of everyone.

"I'm sorry, Rowan. I have to go. Harvey's in real danger this time. I'm the only one who can save him. Be reasonable—this is someone's life. Just wait for me, okay?"

Same as always. A few rushed words, then she walked out on our wedding.

I didn't stop her. Just watched her rush off in those heels.

One blink, and all that was left... was her fading silhouette.

Every eye turned on me—mocking, judging, bored, pitying.

I stood there under the spotlight like some joke they paid to watch.

I didn't lose it. Wasn't mad. Wasn't even sad.

I just watched her disappear.

My friend, Eric, stepped up and handed me an envelope.

"Go home. Think about whether you still want this."

I took it.

Inside—a new ID, a passport, and a one-way ticket to Australia.

I looked at the frozen emcee, then the guests who'd clearly seen this before, and let out a dry laugh.

Ninety-ninth time.

That's how many times Loree walked out on our wedding.

And the ninety-ninth time Harvey swore he'd kill himself.

Every single time—right as we hit the vows—he'd send her a video, standing on some rooftop.

Every single time, she dropped everything and ran to him.

If he was actually in danger, I'd get it. Anyone would.

But ninety-nine times?

Anyone with half a brain could see it was a setup.

The second time it happened, I begged her. Dropped to my knees, grabbed her dress, told her to stay.

Didn't matter. She'd already checked out. I told her over and over—it was just another stunt to wreck our wedding.

She never believed me.

Didn't matter that it always ended the same—false alarm.

Didn't matter that he'd still keep her with him for days after.

I got mad. I broke down. I begged.

Every time, she swore the next wedding would go smoothly.

Now here we were.

Ninety-nine times.

I loved Loree. Couldn't watch ten years go up in flames because of Harvey.

I gave her everything—trusted her, backed every call she made, had her back no matter what.

She never cared how I felt. Kept leaving me alone at our own wedding, letting everyone laugh and judge.

Every time, she'd come back, ask for another chance, swear she'd marry me.

Every time, she crushed my love—and my pride.

She thought I'd never leave. Thought I'd always be there.

Not this time.

Ninety-nine was the limit.

All eyes stayed on me. Whispers spread. They were waiting for a show.

I was an orphan. No family.

Once, I told Loree maybe we shouldn't invite so many people. I didn't like the way they looked at me—cold, mocking. Same look I got as a kid, fighting stray dogs for scraps.

She just said, "Just because you don't have family doesn't mean I can't invite mine."

Not one person there cared about me.

They just wanted me to snap. Lose it. Give them something to talk about.

But I didn't play along.

I fixed my suit and walked straight toward Loree's parents—Donovan and Rebecca.

The same relatives who stayed seated when she left rushed over, blocking me.

"Rowan, calm down. Don't do anything stupid. They're your future in-laws!"

Future in-laws?

Not anymore.

I shoved past them and stopped in front of Donovan and Rebecca.

Before I could even open my mouth, they cut in—

"Rowan, let's postpone the wedding. Loree said she wants to marry Harvey first."

Donovan and Rebecca handed me the phone.

Loree's voice came through.

"Rowan, something serious happened. Harvey's not doing well. I want to grant one of his wishes first."

I went quiet. Didn't even know what to say.

She'd run from our wedding so many times—and never once apologized. Now she was choosing to marry him.

No explanation. Just one line—Harvey's in trouble.

That was enough for her to throw everything away and marry him instead.

And me?

I'd wasted time, money, everything—proposing over and over before she finally said yes.

I used to think if I tried harder—loved her more—things would get better.

Today, I got it.

To Loree, my love was disposable.

If that's how it was, there was nothing left to hold onto.

I grabbed the bank card off the table. Fifty grand. Meant for her.

Their smug looks froze.

Donovan slammed his hand over mine.

"Rowan, don't rush this. Don't be impulsive. I'll call Loree back right now. Calm down, okay? She's just being immature. You're not seriously going to make a scene too, right? Stay steady."

He was talking to me, but his eyes stayed glued to the card.

Rebecca snapped out of it and hurried to call Loree.

I ignored them and slipped the card into my pocket.

Someone must've warned her. A while later, she showed up—with Harvey.

She clutched his hand like he might bolt, then walked straight at me. "Rowan Rheinberg, what are you doing? I told you Harvey's life was in danger. I went to save him! And now you're taking the money back? Do you even want this marriage? Didn't I tell you to wait? Why can't you just be reasonable?"

Harvey sagged against her, voice soft. "Rowan, I'm sorry for ruining your wedding. But I've got no one except Loree. She's the only family I have."

He lifted their joined hands and shot me a faint, smug look.

Loree didn't miss a beat. "Harvey has nothing left but me. I can't let him lose that too."

She said it like she had the moral high ground—like I was the problem.

Guess she forgot I had no one either.

She'd left me here, surrounded by people who looked down on me, making me eat their laughs and their contempt. Over and over.

She couldn't stand Harvey being alone. Wanted to give him comfort and care.

What about me?

I didn't say it. Didn't care to argue anymore.

I just wanted out.

The girl I'd spent ten years with didn't see it. Didn't see I was done. She just kept going.

"Rowan, can't you be a little understanding? I just left a few times. Is it really that serious? Not getting married? How can you even say that to me?"

She knew exactly how to use my feelings against me.

I'd never said break up. Never said I was leaving—not even in our worst fights.

I knew what those words could do.

Today was the first time I said them.

And she still didn't think I meant it. Just couldn't believe I'd dare.

I ignored her and headed for the door.

Loree sneered. "Fine, go. But leave the money. We invited all these relatives—we need an explanation. And Harvey didn't even go to the hospital. He came straight here. You owe him compensation for emotional distress."

I stared at her.

How does someone say that with a straight face?

Harvey flashed me a quiet V sign. Smiling like he'd already won.

They wanted the money?

I let out a sharp laugh.

"You want me to pay this side piece for emotional distress? Fine. I'll pay him."

I shoved past her and swung.

My hand cracked across Harvey's face.

He hit the floor, clutching his cheek, staring up at me.

The whole room went dead still.

I raised my hand and scanned the room, then let my gaze land on Loree's shocked face.

"This is the compensation. Anyone else want some?"

Everyone froze. Even Donovan and Rebecca—always chasing money—just stood there as I walked out.

I drove home.

I stepped into the small place that used to be full of laughter. Every step hit like a punch to the chest.

Every corner, everything—ten years of us living here together. Memories I thought would last forever, now cutting like glass.

I forced myself to pack. Just kept moving, like that could fix anything.

On the shelf sat The Little Prince—the copy we picked together. A faded movie ticket still tucked inside. Our first date.

I ran my fingers over the cover. Cold. It sank deep.

My tears finally fell, dotting the pages, washing the anger out.

The closet was packed with our clothes and photos.

Her blouses still held that soft lavender scent—her favorite. It used to calm me every time I held her.

Now it just felt like a joke. She wasn't here anymore.

I yanked everything down and tossed it on the floor, like that could burn the bitterness out of me.

It didn't.

The anger faded, and something heavier crashed in right after.

Our photo sat on the nightstand. We were smiling—easy, carefree.

I slammed it to the floor. The frame shattered, the crack ringing through the empty room.

I'm done loving her. She's not worth it.

The good times flashed back—then Harvey wrecking all of it.

His name hung between us like a shadow, pushing us further apart.

She started seeing him more, leaving me behind again and again.

Harvey was her dream guy—the one she never got over. I always knew.

From the start, I hated that he came back. But she'd just brush it off.

"Harvey and I are over. He's just a friend now. He's alone, no one to lean on. I'm just helping him out."

Later, she saw him more and more. Always some excuse.

Sick. Scared of storms. Some problem he "couldn't handle."

Every time, my fiancée had to be there for him.

And me? I got pushed aside.

"Rowan, can't you be more understanding? Harvey has no one. I have to help him. Why are you so cold? Why can't you be reasonable?"

What about me?

I was the one with no one.

I tried to understand. Tried to put up with it. But every letdown made me colder.

Especially watching her ditch our wedding again and again—for that so-called dream guy.

She'd already made her choice.

I wiped my tears and kept packing, hands steady.

Every item I tossed felt like letting go. Every empty space felt like I could finally breathe.

I knew it'd take time.

But I could wait.

Wait for something new—something mine.

No Loree. No Harvey.

Just me... and whatever comes next.