Post-apocalyptique

I found a condom and a lace thong in the bathroom trash can. John and I had not been intimate in over a year, and I certainly did not own that kind of underwear. I thought about calling him, but then I came across a post from his god-sister of him passionately holding and kissing her foot. Though I was heartbroken, I did not cry or cause a scene. I turned off my phone and forced myself to carry on with life. Eventually, John finally noticed something was wrong. With red eyes, he asked, "Why didn't you care about me flirting with another woman?"

After my grandmother passed away, I returned from my countryside home to Oberis City, ready to tidy things up and prepare for my wedding. But no sooner had I arrived at the wedding planning company, ready to book an extravagant, luxurious wedding, than the staff there delivered a piece of news that struck me like a thunderbolt. The groom—my groom—had already gotten married. Three months ago, Cain Bassett, the eldest son of the wealthiest family's conglomerate, tied the knot with his childhood sweetheart, the daughter of the mayor of Lith City—Mary Schindler. Now here I stood, frowning in front of the grand gates of Cain's villa. But the thing is, I am Mary Schindler, the daughter of the mayor of Lith City.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

The day after we set our wedding date for the tenth time, my fiancé reached past me to kiss his adopted sister. He presented crimson roses to her as she descended from the stage. "My princess, in this lifetime, I'll only ever be your protector." I stood quietly beyond the cheering crowd, then turned and walked away without looking back. After five years of engagement, this was the moment I finally gave up hope.