On the Eve of My Wedding, I Discovered Her BetrayalChapter 1

Before my marriage to my fiancée, I stumbled upon her browsing a jewelry store with a young man.

From a distance, I watched as she playfully tried on an engagement ring I had custom-made and paid a hefty sum for, all under the teasing of the store clerks.

When confronted, she said, "He just thought the ring was pretty and wanted to try it on. Can't you be more magnanimous?"

Later, that man posted a photo online of the ring on his ring finger.

[Though I cannot fully possess you in this life, to have your favor is more than enough for me.]

As the workday wound down, Isabel Hill, my fiancée, texted me: [Ethan, I've booked a popular restaurant. I'll pick you up after work.]

This was the first message she sent me after our argument over her publicly adorning another man with a ring.

I recognized it as her subtle way of conceding, but I chose to ignore it.

Issues of principle are not something to be taken lightly.

In the past, I was always easy to appease.

After every quarrel, she would give me the silent treatment for a few days.

Once my anger subsided, she would reason with me.

I would invariably fall for her cooing words when she acted cute, finding fault within myself in the process.

This cycle led me to question my own character, wondering if there was something wrong with me.

My mother advised that, as a man, I should be more generous and accommodating to women.

So, I kept forgiving her unconditionally, yet she continued to disappoint me.

After this argument, she employed the same tactic, giving me the cold shoulder for four days, preferring to stay in the lab rather than come home.

I suddenly felt bored.

I couldn't fathom the purpose of persisting in this relationship.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on my work, deliberately ignoring her messages.

But as I stepped out of the office after work, I saw Isabel standing by the roadside with a gift in hand.

I intended to walk past her as if I hadn't noticed, but she approached me with a brisk step.

"Ethan, my car is parked over there. You're heading in the wrong direction."

She looked as if nothing had happened, as if the argument three days ago was forgotten.

I glanced at her indifferently and continued on my way.

Isabel followed me leisurely, her gaze fixed on me. "Ethan, my mom is waiting for us at the restaurant I booked. Can we go there first?"