Marry My Ex's Rival at His Own Wedding

Chapter 2

Ryan's expression hardened, his eyes turning cold with anger.

"Abigail Foster, are you really getting this cocky?" His voice dripped with disdain.

"It's just a piece of paper. Why are you making such a big deal about it?" he sneered.

"You let me sleep with you for eight years without it, so what's the problem now?" He laughed bitterly. "If you hadn't begged me on your knees, saying you couldn't live without me, do you honestly think I'd still be here with you?"

"Playing hard to get at your age? Aren't you embarrassed?" His words cut deep.

I felt my blood boil with rage.

It was him who had chased after me for months. Him who cried and clung to me when he was drunk. Now, after marrying Mia Hawkins and making me a joke, he was accusing me of being selfish?

"Ryan Sullivan, we're done. From now on, we live our separate lives, married to other people," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Ryan went ballistic. He grabbed the bag of broken shells Mia had given me and slammed it onto the floor, shattering it.

"Abigail, you think anyone else is going to marry you?" His voice was full of mockery. "Everyone knows you've been used by me for eight years. You're damaged goods. Who would want a washed-up old maid like you?"

Before I could respond, the bathroom door creaked open.

Mia Hawkins, wrapped in nothing but a towel, stepped out barefoot.

I froze. My heart clenched, and the breath in my chest caught like a weight.

Just a few days ago, Ryan had stormed off from the engagement party after getting a phone call. And now here they were, flaunting their love on social media for everyone to see. I didn't know if I was more hurt, angry, or just plain disgusted.

This house, this was supposed to be our love nest. The place we'd planned our future in, where we were supposed to make happy memories together.

"Sister Abigail, don't blame Ryan," Mia chimed in, her voice sickeningly sweet. "He's just trying to help me."

"If you're looking to blame anyone, blame me. I'm the extra one here..." She reached out for my hand.

I instinctively yanked it away, but before I could even react, Mia let out a dramatic cry and collapsed to the floor.

Before I could process what happened, Ryan slapped me hard, knocking me to the ground.

Pain shot through my hand as the broken shells pierced my skin. Blood pooled onto the floor.

"Mia, are you okay?" Ryan turned on me, eyes full of disgust. "If anything happens to her, I swear I'll make you pay!"

He scooped Mia up and rushed her out of the room.

I lay there, struggling to push myself up. I glanced around the house, once filled with so many memories, and now it felt like a foreign, hostile place.

On the bed, the sheets were a mess, a pair of torn black stockings dangled off the edge, and used tissues were scattered across the floor. The smell in the air was suffocating, nauseating.

I ran out, tears streaking down my face.

This house was tainted. Everything in it felt contaminated, just like the years I'd spent with him.

With broken shells still stuck in my palm, I had no choice but to take a taxi to the hospital.

I picked one far from home, hoping to avoid running into Ryan and Mia, but of course, fate had other plans.

I saw them the second I walked into the waiting area. Mia was holding her hand, crying dramatically, despite there not being a scratch on it. Ryan hovered over her, looking more attentive to her than he ever had with me.

When we first got together, Ryan was just as doting on me. I remember one night I had a fever, and he rushed out barefoot, bleeding from stepping on glass, just to make sure I was okay.

"Abigail, you're my precious. I can't stand seeing you hurt," he'd told me back then.

Now? He couldn't even spare me a second glance.

They came out as I was walking in.

"Sister Abigail," Mia said, sweetly, her voice laced with mock innocence, "Ryan just came with me to check on my hand. Were you worried about us?"

Ryan looked me up and down, disgust in his eyes. "Didn't you just say we had nothing to do with each other anymore? What are you doing here, following us around?"

"Abigail, you can't have it both ways," he sneered. "Stop being so desperate. If you lay a finger on Mia again, I won't let you get away with it!"

I held up my bloodied hand, doing my best to stay calm.

"I'm here for treatment," I muttered, brushing past them.

Ryan froze, a flicker of guilt flashing in his eyes for the briefest moment.

"Abigail, is it serious?" he asked, his voice softer than it had been in ages.

But then Mia whimpered again, cutting him off.

"Ryan, my hand hurts so much..." She whined louder, and Ryan immediately turned his attention back to her.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the pain in my chest. Ryan didn't even spare me another glance as he rushed Mia away.

The next morning, as I was waking up, I got a message from Lucas Thornton, asking if I had time to try on the custom wedding rings.

I had just finished washing up when Ryan showed up unexpectedly, carrying breakfast.

"You must be starving," he said, trying to sound normal. "Come eat."

He set down a basket of crab roe buns and a bowl of pumpkin porridge, both things I couldn't stand.

"It's your day off, right? How about we go shopping for new clothes?" he suggested, as if nothing had happened.

It was like he was hitting me with a stick and then offering me a date. It was exactly what he'd always done over the years.

We actually left the house, and as we got into the car, he sat in the back seat.

"You drive today. I didn't sleep well last night," he said, sounding like he was the one who needed to be taken care of.

It was just like old times, except everything had changed.