Our dream home, months in the making, was finally ready. Owen, completely ignoring my glare, insisted on letting his drunken childhood best friend stay the night. His excuse? She had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t just leave her on the street. The moment his best friend, Harper, sprawled across *our* wedding bed, I told him the wedding was off. “Clara, can you stop overreacting for once?” “Are you really going to cancel the wedding?” I looked at him. “Yes, I am. Cancel it.” “There’s no point in us lying to ourselves anymore. This is over.” I stood at the bedroom doorway, my fingers digging into the doorframe, knuckles white. Owen’s childhood best friend was lying on the wedding bed I had carefully chosen. She was wearing a dark blue silk pajama set, the one I’d bought for our honeymoon. Our initials were even embroidered on the cuffs. And now, it hung loosely on another woman’s body. Owen stood beside the bed, his hair a mess, his pajama collar askew, like he’d just been… tangled with. “What’s with that face? Harper drank too much last night, she had nowhere to go. I couldn’t just leave her on the street, could I?” I didn’t speak, my gaze shifting from his face to the bed. Harper looked like she’d just woken up, rubbing her forehead as she sat up. Her voice dripped with fake apology: “Clara, I’m so sorry, I totally blacked out last night… Did I do anything out of line?” Her mouth mumbled apologies, but her eyes flicked past me to Owen, a smirk playing on her lips, a clear hint of triumph. I stared at her, my voice chillingly cold. “Out of line? Like lying on my wedding bed, wearing my bridal pajamas?” Owen’s face darkened, and he cut me off. “She just borrowed them! Do you have to be so dramatic?” His voice rose, laced with sharp anger. “We’ve been planning this wedding for half a year, and you’re going to cancel it over something so small?” I didn’t rush to argue. Instead, I pulled out my phone from my pocket, swiped a few times on the screen, and handed it to him. “These are your SnapChat messages from the past three months.” My voice was ice-cold, a quiet menace beneath the surface. “You went out seventeen times in total. Every single time, the excuse was ‘helping Harper with her relationship problems.’” Owen’s face twitched, but he quickly jutted out his chin. “So what? She got dumped. As her best friend, am I not allowed to comfort her?” “And you had to stay out all night, every single time?” I stared him down. “Last Friday, I left work early. I saw her in your car, and your hand was on her *thigh*.” A flicker of panic crossed Owen’s eyes. “That was an accident! I just bumped her!” “An accident?” A humorless laugh escaped me. “Then why did you immediately drive away, looking so nervous in your rearview mirror?” Owen’s breath hitched, and his fingers unconsciously tightened on the hem of his pajamas. Harper conveniently cut in, her voice dripping with feigned distress. “Clara, you’ve really misunderstood. Owen and I have been friends for over twenty years, how could we ever…” “Twenty years?” I cut her off, my gaze sharp. “But the way you look at him, it’s never been like a friend.” Harper chose that moment to throw off the covers and get out of bed. The hem of the dark blue silk pajamas brushed the sheets, leaving a fresh wrinkle. She stood barefoot on the floor, her back deliberately straightened, a hidden boast in her posture. “Clara, please don’t be mad. I’ll leave right away. I won’t bother you two anymore.” “Stop.” I stepped aside, blocking the doorway, my face icy. “Take off the pajamas.” Owen shrieked. “Clara! Are you crazy? What do you expect her to wear if she takes them off?!” “That’s her problem.” I stared directly into Harper’s eyes. “My things, once tainted, are fit for the trash. They’re definitely not for someone else’s body.” Harper’s face instantly flushed a mottled red. Her clenched fingers went white, and she gasped for air, but she didn’t dare meet my gaze. Owen suddenly lunged, grabbing my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin. “What do you want? Are you really going to burn everything down over a pair of pajamas?”
“Ha…” I let out a cold laugh, shrugged him off, and walked out of the room. The early autumn night wind carried a chill. I stood under a streetlamp, slowly, almost deliberately, pulling my wind-blown collar tighter. My fingertips traced the cold fabric, each movement slow and deliberate, as if I was fighting with myself. Harper reeked of Owen’s cologne. Our wedding bed was a mess because of them, and he was still defending her. “Clara!” The sound of his dress shoes rapidly approached. I turned back to see Owen standing a few steps away. He stood there in the cold wind, his shoulders trembling slightly, his chest heaving, as if he’d just run a long distance. “Let’s talk,” his voice softened. I let out a long breath, saying nothing. He walked closer, his hand suddenly gripping my arm tightly, as if afraid I’d shake him off. “There’s really nothing going on between Harper and me,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “She was just drunk. I couldn’t just leave her…” “Drunk?” I scoffed. “So drunk she can lie on our wedding bed? So drunk she can make you stay out all night? So drunk she can—” I yanked my arm away, pressing my thumb hard into the skin on his inner wrist—there was a faint bruise there, like someone had gripped him tightly. His eyes flickered, and he instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but I held firm. “Was this an ‘accident’ too?” His face shifted, and then he pulled away, his voice suddenly rough. “Are you ever going to let this go?!” He took a deep breath, as if trying to keep calm. “You’re going to cancel our wedding just because of a misunderstanding? We’ve been together for three years. Do you really trust me so little? Besides, she’s already gone home!” “Misunderstanding?” I stared into his eyes. “Alright, prove it to me.” “Block Harper now. Delete all her contacts. Don’t see her again.” His expression froze. “No way,” he blurted out almost instantly. “She’s my most important friend. We’ve known each other for twenty years. You want me to just cut her off?” “Most important friend?” I forced a smile. “More important than your fiancée?” He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced down at the screen, and his face instantly changed—it was Harper. “Hello? Harper? What’s wrong?” He answered the phone, his worry barely hidden. Harper’s faint, dramatically pained groans trickled through the phone. “Owen… I fell… My head’s spinning…” “Don’t move! I’m coming right now!” He hung up, turning to leave. I grabbed him. “Owen.” My voice was as cold as ice. “If you go to her today, we are completely over.” He stopped, turning back to look at me, his eyes filled with struggle. Three seconds. Five seconds. “I’m sorry…” he finally murmured, then added, “I’ll be right back.” He ran toward the road without a backward glance, hailing a taxi. The moment the car door closed, I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding planning company. “Hello, Mr. Thompson? Yes, it’s Clara Ruan.” I stared at the disappearing taxi, my voice terrifyingly calm. “Cancel all wedding arrangements. I’ll still pay the full fee.” The night wind swirled fallen leaves around my feet. I stood under the streetlamp, watching my shadow stretch long, long, across the pavement.
Owen never came back after he left. It wasn’t until 2 AM that I saw Harper’s Ins story. In the photo, she was half-undressed, curled up in a man’s arms. A shadow obscured half the man’s face, but his build was all too familiar. That Ins story was like a dull blade, slowly slicing through my nerves. I gripped my phone tightly, my fingers trembling. Just then, my company called, saying there was an urgent project requiring me to travel abroad for a week. I agreed with almost no hesitation. Getting away from here, even temporarily, was better than staring at an empty room, lost in my own thoughts. Before boarding, my phone vibrated. An audio file from an unknown number. I tapped it. The next second, Harper’s voice spilled from the receiver. Moans, mixed with a man’s low gasps. I slammed my screen off, but those sounds had already taken root in my mind. I switched off my phone for the flight. When the plane landed, I turned it back on. Dozens of missed calls popped up on the screen, all from Owen. I scoffed, ignoring them. But a moment later, his call came through again. “Why did you leave without saying anything?” His voice was accusatory, with a hint of an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “I thought you already made that clear?” My voice was calm. “Clear about what?” He paused for a second. “Just because I went to Harper?” “Didn’t you two have fun? Do you even have time to think about me?” I sneered. “Clara, you’ve misunderstood. She was already drunk, and I was worried something would happen to her.” “I’m her best friend, I couldn’t just leave her!” Owen was still trying to explain on the phone. “Good enough to roll around in bed together? Owen, we’re done.” I hung up the phone, then forwarded that audio file to him. For the next few minutes, my phone vibrated nonstop. **[It’s not what you think!]** **[Let me explain!]** **[That audio is fake! Someone’s trying to frame me!]** I didn’t reply to a single one. Soon enough, his tone changed. **[Fine. If you don’t trust me, then there’s nothing more to say.]** **[Hope you don’t regret this!]** I blocked him directly. A week later, I dragged my suitcase back home. The moment I inserted the key into the lock, I heard a rustling sound from inside, followed by low laughter. I pushed the door open. In the living room, clothes were scattered everywhere. On the sofa, Harper was wrapped around Owen, both of them disheveled, her lipstick smeared on his collarbone. The air solidified. Owen jerked upright, his face pale. “You… you’re back?” I stood in the doorway and slowly smiled. “Looks like I’m back at just the right time.” Harper was wearing my bathrobe, my slippers on her feet, and holding my whiskey glass. The amber liquid swirled in the light. She grinned at me, a deliberate display of triumph.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297234”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance
Leave a Reply