Left at the Altar, Stolen by the Enemy - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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I deliberately chose a hospital far from home, but fate had other plans—I ran straight into Ethan and Cynthia.
There was Cynthia, clutching her perfectly fine hand and wailing like she'd been mortally wounded.
Ethan, ever the doting knight in shining armor, scooped her up onto his lap and peppered the doctor with questions about her "injury." The same way he used to fuss over me.
I remembered one night when I'd spiked a fever—he'd bolted out barefoot in panic, only noticing the glass shards in his foot after making sure I was okay.
"Wendy, you're my everything. Seeing you hurt kills me."
Now, as I exited the exam room, I collided with him in the doorway.
"Wendy!" Cynthia sneered. "Ethan was just helping me get checked out. Couldn't resist following us, could you?"
Ethan shot me a look of pure disdain. "Weren't you the one who said we're done? Pathetic. If you lay one finger on Cynthia again, I won't hold back."
I held up my bloodied hand. "Look at this and get out of my way."
For a split second, guilt flickered across his face. "Wendy... is it bad?"
He moved toward me—until Cynthia's dramatic wail cut through the air. "Ethan, my wrist! It hurts so much!"
Just like that, he turned his back on me, sweeping her away without a second glance.
The next morning, Henry texted asking me to come try on our custom wedding ring.
I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when Ethan barged in with breakfast. "You must be starving. Eat up!"
Crab roe buns (which made me break out in hives) and pumpkin porridge (which I'd rather starve than touch). Classic.
"Take the day off," he said, all charm. "Let me treat you to some new fall clothes."
Same old song and dance—a consolation prize after ripping my heart out. But when it came time to leave, he slid into the back seat. "You drive. I didn't sleep well."
I glanced at my bandaged hand and almost laughed.
In the rearview mirror, he was texting someone, a smirk tugging at his lips. That smirk died the second we pulled up to the jewelry store.
He blocked the entrance, scowling. "Wendy, I told you—we just need to wait this out. Cynthia and I are only getting the paperwork done, no big wedding. Once the dust settles—"
"Ethan!" Cynthia's shrill voice interrupted. "Isn't this ring gorgeous?" She flaunted a one-carat diamond, batting her lashes.
His face transformed instantly. "Anything you love is perfect. Our wedding's in five days—should this be the one?"
I froze. Five days. The same day as my wedding. How poetic.
Just then, the clerk brought out Henry's ring—a breathtaking pink diamond, one of a kind.
Cynthia's eyes turned ravenous. "Wendy... I adore that ring. Let me try it on?"
The clerk stepped in. "Apologies, but this is a reserved piece. Perhaps another—"
Cynthia's eyes welled up on cue. "Are you sabotaging me because of our wedding? I just want to feel like a bride for once! Is that too much to ask?"
Her crocodile tears almost made me pity her. Almost.
There was Cynthia, clutching her perfectly fine hand and wailing like she'd been mortally wounded.
Ethan, ever the doting knight in shining armor, scooped her up onto his lap and peppered the doctor with questions about her "injury." The same way he used to fuss over me.
I remembered one night when I'd spiked a fever—he'd bolted out barefoot in panic, only noticing the glass shards in his foot after making sure I was okay.
"Wendy, you're my everything. Seeing you hurt kills me."
Now, as I exited the exam room, I collided with him in the doorway.
"Wendy!" Cynthia sneered. "Ethan was just helping me get checked out. Couldn't resist following us, could you?"
Ethan shot me a look of pure disdain. "Weren't you the one who said we're done? Pathetic. If you lay one finger on Cynthia again, I won't hold back."
I held up my bloodied hand. "Look at this and get out of my way."
For a split second, guilt flickered across his face. "Wendy... is it bad?"
He moved toward me—until Cynthia's dramatic wail cut through the air. "Ethan, my wrist! It hurts so much!"
Just like that, he turned his back on me, sweeping her away without a second glance.
The next morning, Henry texted asking me to come try on our custom wedding ring.
I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when Ethan barged in with breakfast. "You must be starving. Eat up!"
Crab roe buns (which made me break out in hives) and pumpkin porridge (which I'd rather starve than touch). Classic.
"Take the day off," he said, all charm. "Let me treat you to some new fall clothes."
Same old song and dance—a consolation prize after ripping my heart out. But when it came time to leave, he slid into the back seat. "You drive. I didn't sleep well."
I glanced at my bandaged hand and almost laughed.
In the rearview mirror, he was texting someone, a smirk tugging at his lips. That smirk died the second we pulled up to the jewelry store.
He blocked the entrance, scowling. "Wendy, I told you—we just need to wait this out. Cynthia and I are only getting the paperwork done, no big wedding. Once the dust settles—"
"Ethan!" Cynthia's shrill voice interrupted. "Isn't this ring gorgeous?" She flaunted a one-carat diamond, batting her lashes.
His face transformed instantly. "Anything you love is perfect. Our wedding's in five days—should this be the one?"
I froze. Five days. The same day as my wedding. How poetic.
Just then, the clerk brought out Henry's ring—a breathtaking pink diamond, one of a kind.
Cynthia's eyes turned ravenous. "Wendy... I adore that ring. Let me try it on?"
The clerk stepped in. "Apologies, but this is a reserved piece. Perhaps another—"
Cynthia's eyes welled up on cue. "Are you sabotaging me because of our wedding? I just want to feel like a bride for once! Is that too much to ask?"
Her crocodile tears almost made me pity her. Almost.
End of Left at the Altar, Stolen by the Enemy Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Left at the Altar, Stolen by the Enemy book page.