Too Late, I’m Not Yours Anymore

My fiancé’s first love Chloe had returned.

Rumor had it she’d been overseas, treating some rare disease. I hadn’t believed it—until the day she showed up at my engagement party.

And I watched as the man I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was sixteen left our party with her.

“Wait for me,” Nathan said, “She is fragile. I need to make sure she is well.” He ignored me, but accompanying her to everywhere.

I threw away the rings, trashed the wedding gown.

When I was pale and trembling from a heart failure later.

Nathan finally showed up. “Don’t you dare die on me, Emily,” His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “We still have a wedding.”

1

I never thought that at my engagement party with Nathan Brooks—the Nathan Brooks—I’d end up meeting his first love. And just like that, my engagement party turned into a complete shit show.

Tonight was supposed to be a dream come true. Getting engaged to the man of my dreams, the one I’d been crushing on since I was sixteen.

I met him at one of his parties back then. He was already the elusive, polished Mr. Brooks of the Elite Casino. I was just a high school girl in borrowed heels, tagging along because my father worked security for him.

But from the moment I saw him, I knew I wanted him. All of him.

So I worked for it. I clawed my way up—business school, internships, long hours, longer nights. Eventually, I earned a position at his side. I became the assistant who knew everything he needed before he even asked.

I became the one he could rely on.

Six years later, I wasn’t just his assistant anymore. I was his fiancée.

As I stood under the warm lights of the ballroom now, wearing the silver-white gown Nathan had picked just for me.

Everything sparkled in perfection. The champagne, the chandeliers, the whispers of envy from the crowd.

All of it mine.

Until a woman in a flowing white dress appeared—her gown, similar to my design, too white that made her look like the spotlight of the night.

The second I saw her. I noticed she looked exactly like the woman in the photograph Nathan kept hidden in his wallet.

Chloe Reed.

Her gaze skimmed over me for a second then moved away, finally landing on Nathan. “Nathan,” she breathed, “I’ve come.”

Nathan went still. Then he smiled. Not the smooth, controlled smile I knew. This one was almost surprise mixing with utmost joy, too out of control.

“Chloe?” His voice cracked.

She stepped closer, took his hand, “I had to come. I hoped I wasn’t too late…”

And just like that, the room faded. Nathan and Chloe were in some untouchable bubble of memory and love.

People stared. I felt their pity like glass shards under my skin.

Someone else—probably Chloe’s friend—stepped forward and dropped the bomb. “Nathan, didn’t you promise to marry Chloe? Why are you throwing an engagement party for someone else?”

Nathan turned. He looked at me like he’d forgotten I was there. “I…”

“She’s been in France, getting treatment for her heart,” the friend said. “She heard about the engagement and insisted on coming back. She even made this dress herself.”

I swallowed. “Nathan?”

Nathan was actually hesitating, “Emily…” He looked torn—like he was standing on a cliff, trying to decide whether to jump.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Chloe gasped, clutching her chest like her heart couldn’t handle this whole situation. Drama queen or not, it worked.

Nathan moved instantly. “Emily, we’ll postpone our engagement party. I have to take her to the hospital—I’ll explain everything later!”

And just like that, he scooped her into his arms and ran.

Ran.

“Nathan, wait…”

But he was already gone.

Jake, Nathan’s personal guards approached, looking worried. “Miss Carter… Shall I drive you back to the mansion?”

He, seeing me not move, continued, “Don’t worry. Mr. Brooks really loved you. He was just worried about that woman. She really looked like she was about to faint.”

He loves me?

If Nathan Brooks truly loved me, he wouldn’t have left me standing here, alone at our engagement party while he ran off to save the girl he seemed never stopped loving.

…

After Nathan and Chloe left, the entire room erupted in whispers, sharp voices buzzing with gossip.

"Do you think Nathan still loves Chloe?” one woman asked, loud enough for her friends—and me—to hear. “I mean, back in the day, he was obsessed with her. She stood by him when he had nothing.”

Someone else chimed in. “And Chloe’s not just anyone—she’s Mr. Reed’s daughter. That Mr. Reed. Mafia west coast. He’d be an idiot to choose Emily over her.”

“I heard the only reason they broke up was because her dad forced her to leave for heart treatment in France,” another voice said, smug. “Nathan was just a poor kid back then. Like some tragic fairytale. But now? He’s rich. Runs a casino. It’s not a busboy-and-princess story anymore—it’s Prince Charming and his princess.”

Laughter.

“Honestly, Emily always seemed so… basic,” someone hissed.

“She probably doesn’t even care about if Nathan loved other women. She’s just after his money, obviously. I mean, wasn’t she just some desperate assistant? Her father was a guard used to work for Nathan?”

Strangers dissecting my life, my love, my family like I was a cautionary tale. Even at my own engagement party, they were rooting for someone else.

Can’t blame them. Nathan was the one, after all, made me the one for the gossip.

I turned and walked toward the backstage.

I tried to keep my chin high, but my throat was tight. A few tears broke free despite everything I told myself.

Then I glanced down at my dress—the perfect white gown—and everything snapped into place.

The way Chloe had arrived, like she never left. What Nathan and I had all felt like a cruel joke now.

I was aware of existence of Chloe Reed. But I’d also believed in myself before.

In the years I spent at Nathan’s side and the way he looked at me when we were alone. I thought I had earned his love.

Turns out, I was just holding onto borrowed time.

..

I left the party and went back to my own house. Not Nathan’s penthouse, I found that place cold and distant now.

The call came late that night.

Vivian—a table girl at the Elite casino. Also, my friend. Her voice sounded hesitant. “Emily… check social media. There’s a post. A new account.”

My stomach dropped. I opened the app. Searched. Found it.

A newly created account. One photo.

Nathan, in his tuxedo, standing beside a woman in white. Chloe.

The caption: You are mine forever.

I stared. My vision blurred. I told myself to breathe, to be rational. But it was hard.

I won’t allow myself to fall apart again.

If Nathan wanted Chloe, if that was the woman he’d carry off in front of everyone—let him have her. I was done begging for crumbs.

I opened the post, left a single comment: Perfect match.

Then I powered off my phone and went to sleep.

2

The next two weeks passed like a blur. Nathan disappeared. Not just from my life—but from the office at Elite casino as well.

People kept asking where he was. As if I, his supposed fiancée, should know. But I didn’t.

I still showed up to work every day. I wore heels and lipstick like the professional I was.

There was time I only allow myself to be sad in bathrooms, behind locked doors, when no one could see.

And just when I thought I could breathe, the internet found me. Somehow, they didn’t express any empathy for me, just pure hatred.

Every one of my posts, flooded.

“How does it feel watching your fiancé carry another woman out of your own party?”

“Were you the third wheel the whole time?”

“Nathan and Chloe are endgame. You were just the assistant.”

“Dreaming of marrying your boss? How pathetic.”

I deleted all of them and blocked them.

They came back the next day. And the next. Like weeds in spring.

But the worst part? None of it hurt as much as Nathan’s silence.

While I was busy deleting cruel comments, Nathan was out there feeding gossip sites like he’d hired them himself.

One headline read, “Love Rekindled! New Mafia Mogul Spotted Accompanying Former Flame to Private Hospital.”

Mafia mogul. Right.

So now, like everyone else, I had to learn about my relationship status through a C-list tabloid account I hated... and still followed. Shamefully. Just in case they posted more.

At first, I told myself he’d come around. That Nathan was a grown man—if he allowed Chloe back in his life, then he at least could give a clean ending, with maturity and honesty and respect.

But I overestimated him.

…

Another week passed. I was done waiting. So I tried to call Nathan again. It went straight to voicemail. No surprise.

I searched for the gossip page which had just posted another update.

Photos of Nathan leaving a Manhattan hotspot with arms full of takeout. Followed by shots of Chloe in a hospital bed—smiling, glowing, eating those takeout.

My mind wandered to an old memory. There was a time I had a 102-degree fever that wouldn’t break. I asked him to take me to the hospital.

His answer? “I’m too busy with the casino. If it’s that bad, I’ll send a driver.”

It was his personal guard, Jake, who ended up helping me that night.

And now he’s out here reserving an entire hospital for Chloe. Ordering food from five-star places. Playing the doting hero.

…

I went to the hospital. The same one mentioned in the article. A few of Nathan’s guards stood out front, guarding like this was the white house.

They recognized me. One raised an eyebrow.

“Nathan called me,” I said.

A lie. But they didn’t question it. They let me through.

I was almost at the door when I heard her laugh.

Chloe’s voice carried down the hall, light and flirtatious, with that soft, mocking tone. The one that made you feel like she knew something you didn’t.

“Don’t mock me, Nathan,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “Seriously, just tell me—do you love Emily?”

My heart stilled.

It was a simple question. I’d asked myself the same a thousand times.

Nathan’s voice followed, calm. Sure. “Of course not. I told you—there’s only one woman I’ll ever love. And it’s you. Always you.”

I remembered the night he proposed—how he looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you, Emily. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Now? Of course not.

It was a joke. I was a joke. It was almost rude of me to interrupt them. But I’d come this far.

I waited a moment for the laughter inside the room to die down. Then I knocked. I didn’t wait for an answer. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Nathan looked up, startled to see me. His brows knit together.

Chloe, on the other hand, was perfectly composed. She looked like she’d been expecting me all along. Her smile stretched wider. “Emily?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m Nathan’s fiancée. Emily.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said sweetly, “Thank you for taking care of Nathan all these years.”

Taking care of Nathan? She made it sound like I was just a helping hand.

I smiled, even as the burn hit my throat, and turned my eyes toward Nathan. “You haven’t come home in days. How are Miss Reed’s condition? I hope it was not too bad.”

He stood quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the room like I was about to ruin something fragile and precious.

His grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?”

“I am just worried about you and her. You two left the other day, Chloe didn’t look so well.”

“Her condition was not so good. If you care about her, you should understand that showing up like this could hurt her. She’s fragile, Emily.”

I let them sit for a beat before I answered, lifting my chin. “So Chloe’s fragile, and the entire world is supposed to rearrange itself around her?”

I took a breath, slow and deliberate. “What if I was fragile too, Nathan? Have you ever considered that?”

Funny, isn’t it? Chloe Reed has a heart condition. But so do I. Mine’s congenital—an underdeveloped valve I’ve lived with since birth.

But I never told Nathan. I didn’t want to be the girl who needed saving.

I wanted to be his equal, strong and dependable. Apparently, I succeeded a little too well.

3

Nathan blinked, then scoffed. “You? Fragile? Emily, I’ve seen you work through a 103-degree fever and show up to the casino at six a.m. Don’t make this about competition. Chloe’s not built like you.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Nathan only saw the version I built for him—efficient, tireless, too strong.

“Well,” I said, calmly, “you’re right about one thing. I am strong. And thanks to my strong, I didn’t break down when I saw you left our engagement party with another woman.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the engagement ring. The same one he slipped onto my finger with a promise he clearly never meant to keep.

“I loved you, Nathan. For years. But I won’t tolerate being abandoned on one of the most important nights of my life while you play out your second-chance fantasy with someone else.”

I handed him the ring. “I’m not here for drama. I’m here to end it. Congratulations on reuniting with the love of your life. Clearly, she’s the only one you’ve ever loved.”

He didn’t speak right away. Just stared at the ring. Then, as casually as if I’d handed him loose change, he took it and slipped it into his pocket.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said. “I’ll hold onto this. When you’ve calmed down, then we can talk about whether or not the wedding’s still on.”

“Don’t bother. I am calm right now,” I said coolly, “And please tell your PR team to make a statement about our relationship. I’m tired of being trashed online every day because people still think I’m clinging to a man who’s already left.”

Nathan frowned. “How can I control what the public say and do? You knew what it meant, being with me. The public eye, the noise. If you can’t handle that, then maybe we were never right for each other.”

I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked away.

…

I didn’t even make it home before my chest clenched—tight, sharp, like someone had reached inside me and squeezed.

Was this what heartbreak actually felt like?

I sank onto a bench beside the street, clutching the edge of it like it could anchor me to the earth. My breaths came short and fast. Too fast.

You’re okay. You’re not breaking. Not here. Emily, you’re alone—but you are strong.

I repeated it like a mantra, forcing the air in and out. Eventually, my heartbeat began to fall back into rhythm. The tightness faded, leaving a hollow ache behind.

That’s when I heard a voice behind me. “Are you alright?”

I turned and saw Jake. His brows were furrowed, his tone softer than usual.

“Did Nathan send you?” My voice was sharp. What a coincident, each time I turned, Jake was there. Had Nathan sent him over to check on me?

Jake shook his head. “No. I’m here because I was worried. You don’t look well. Let me take you to the ER. Just to be safe.”

“No.” I straightened my back. “I didn’t sleep much, that’s all.”

I couldn’t go to the hospital. The tabloids would have a field day.

The woman Nathan Brooks left at the altar now hospitalized—heart too weak to handle rejection.

No, thanks.

“At least let me take you home.”

I blinked at him. “Will you tell Nathan that you have bumped into me?”

Jake smirked faintly. “No. I will only tell him that I was running a personal errand.”

I smiled, just a little. “Then okay. I guess catching a cab here would take all night anyway.”

…

A month passed. Chloe’s account continued to post like clockwork.

Nathan making breakfast. Nathan walking her through the park. Nathan picking out handbags while she pouted beside him. Nathan holding her hand at the Elite Casino like she was already Mrs. Brooks.

I did my best to avoid them at work, but not from the internet.

Anonymous accounts started slipping into my DMs like roaches in the dark.

“You were never good enough for Nathan.”

“He and Chloe are perfect. You’re a joke, Emily.”

“The ugly duck tried to steal the prince.”

I deleted them, over and over. But they kept coming. Different accounts. Same venom. Like they knew just when my armor cracked.

I wanted to say it didn’t affect me. That I was above it. But even the strongest girl has a limit.

And somewhere in the quiet of those nights, I started to wonder… Were they right?

Chloe was the beginning of Nathan’s story. The heartbreak that lit the fuse. The reason he became who he was—the drive behind the empire.

It was almost foolish for me to think I could rewrite that narrative. But to be fair, at one point, I thought I had.

Nathan introduced me to his mother, took me to meet the friends he’d grown up with.

So when he said I love you and I want to make you my wife, I believed him.

I was so happy. I even let myself dream past the wedding. Kids. A family. Nathan cradling our baby while I watched from the porch swing, barefoot and smiling.

I should’ve known.

Nathan began coming home late this year. Meetings, he said. Unexpected business. Long hours at the casino.

Maybe that was when it began, the rekindling between him and Chloe might have started way earlier before our engagement party.

I noticed the signs. But I told myself he was just busy—he was the boss, after all. He had empires to run, investors to charm, deals to close.

Not once did I doubt him.

And now as my mind keeps trying to make sense of it all. Trying to put logic to heartbreak. But the truth is, I’ll never really know what Nathan was thinking, whether he loved me or not.

I stood up, my limbs slow and heavy, and walked to the closet. In the farthest, deepest corner, I found the dress.

Our engagement gown. The one he said made me look like a dream. I pulled it out and slipped it on again. The silk still held the scent of lavender and Nathan’s cologne.

I stood in front of the mirror and gave a small twirl. Then I picked up the scissors.

Snip. One cut. Then another. The fabric split.

The tears came fast, but I didn’t stop. Maybe I’d been holding everything in too long. Maybe it was not only grief, but also rage and regret and awakening.

Then it hit me—that tight squeeze in my chest. The one that never meant anything good.

It was like a fist, closing in from the inside. The darkness surged forward, fast and final. My knees gave way.

Still conscious, I fumbled for the prescription in my purse. Took it, hoping it will buy me enough time for an ambulance to arrive. Then my phone, my hands shaking, vision gone blurry.

SOS.

I hit the emergency call, even as regret clawed through me. I'd changed my contact list before the engagement party.

The first person it would call…

Was Nathan.

And he might be too busy to notice. Or worse—he’d see it, and choose not to.