The Night Before My Wedding, He Left Me for His First Love

On the eve of our engagement, my fiancé announced he wanted one final night of freedom, a last bachelor party with his friends.

He had made it clear beyond doubt I was absolutely forbidden from interfering.

I knew his first love, the woman who lingered in his memory, had returned to the country only two weeks earlier.

Trusting him, I held back and asked no questions. But that night, a photo appeared on my phone: he lay shirtless on a hotel bed, another woman wrapped in his arms.

Forcing myself to stay calm, I called him, but he didn’t pick up.

Every one of his friends’ phones was turned off.

My hands shook as I opened Valeria Roger’s profile and found her recent update, which had been posted only minutes before.

In the photo, my fiancé wore a striking groom’s suit, holding a stunning woman close as he pressed a kiss to her lips.

His best friend held out an engagement ring, a proud grin on his face.

Beneath the photo, the caption read: [We once joked about making him my only best man, and now, here we are, finally making it happen.]

——

My eyes lingered on the photo, scrutinizing every detail, hoping to catch the faintest sign that he was doing this against his will.

But his smile was carefree, his gaze fixed solely on Valeria, looking utterly content and at peace.

I could no longer find any excuse to deceive myself, and with each thought, a deep ache tightened around my heart as if an unseen hand was squeezing it.

Valeria had been his high school love; they’d dated only three months, yet he hadn’t let her go in over a decade.

Even in sleep, he would utter her name.

I had confronted him about it before, even stirred up a scene, but he’d always brushed it off with a carefree, “It’s in the past.”

I convinced myself that no one could be so haunted by a fleeting three-month romance, reasoning that his dreams were nothing more than random, meaningless echoes.

Yet now, I could no longer fool myself.

Elias Stewart's actions had made everything heartbreakingly clear.

Messages from friends and family still poured in, filled with warm congratulations for our engagement.

I let out a bitter laugh and sent him a single text: [The engagement is off. Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

After a long silence, he finally replied, [What nonsense are you talking about? End this now, or there will be consequences.]

I found myself laughing bitterly at his unnerving composure, the way he pretended as though nothing had changed.

Could this truly be the man I had loved for ten years? Now, he felt tainted beyond measure.

Without a reply, I blocked and deleted him in an instant.

Before me, the red invitations we had crafted together seemed like a cruel joke.

The more I looked, the more absurd they appeared, so I cast them to the floor and set them ablaze, watching the flames erase the memory.

I couldn’t fathom how he could cling to his first love yet spend a decade by my side, nor why he would betray me so ruthlessly just before our engagement.

Memories of our years together surged back, and I realized he had never looked as carefree and radiant with me as he did in that photo.

Elias was attractive and privileged, and, as the only son, he had taken over his family’s business right after college. He was an impressive figure among his peers.

Despite my humble beginnings, I had somehow won his affection.

No one quite understood it, least of all me; I often felt as if I were stretching beyond my station.

His friends had dropped enough hints, saying women across continents yearned for Elias and that being with me was a favor, as though he were doing charity.

At the time, I thought they only meant to protect him.

Looking back now, I realized that neither Elias nor his friends had ever truly respected me or held me in high regard.

My love for him had been genuine and profound; when he asked me to leave my job and embrace the role of a full-time housewife, I agreed without hesitation.

My sole desire was to handle everything at home so he could dedicate himself entirely to his career.

However, by offering him such freedom, I had unwittingly allowed others to exploit it.

I didn’t care who held the reins in our relationship; my only concern was whether his eyes saw only me.

If they didn’t, I wouldn’t think twice about tossing aside this half-baked connection.

Cheating occurred either never or countless times, and I was determined not to be the woman left wondering about her husband’s loyalty.

So, I took to social media to announce the end of our engagement. Almost immediately, messages and calls poured in, but Elias remained silent.

I could only imagine him contentedly wrapped in Valeria’s embrace.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, I got up and began to gather his belongings.

He had never desired to live with me, so he had only brought a few items, which took no more than half an hour to pack and return to his mansion.

Once I finished, I collapsed onto my bed, a wave of relief washing over me as I pulled the covers over my head and slept soundly until noon the next day.

My phone rang with a delivery alert, but Elias’s furious voice broke through the calm. “Elsie, what is the meaning of this? Come out here right now!”