Seven Years Lost: My Firefighter fiancé Saved Everyone But Our Love - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

"Yeah, this is my son, Ivan." I ruffled his hair naturally. "And this is my husband, Zander Kemnis."
Zander gave Arthur a polite nod.
Arthur's face went chalk white, his lips trembling: "You're... married?"
"Yep. Had the ceremony in London."
"But your Instagram..." He caught himself mid-sentence—probably remembering I'd blocked his ass years ago. That burner account he'd been stalking? All he ever saw was empty stories that disappeared after 24 hours.
"Started fresh with new accounts." I kept my voice light.
Natalie suddenly burst into hysterical laughter, tears streaming down her face:
"Arthur, look at yourself! She moved on and built a whole fucking life! You're the only pathetic loser still pining after her! You think she came back for you? Dream on, you pathetic piece of shit!"
Arthur ignored her completely, just stared at me while the light slowly died in his eyes—like watching a campfire get pissed on.
"When did you get married?"
"Two years ago," Zander answered for me, his tone calm but protective as hell. "We should go."
As he took my hand and we turned to leave, I heard Arthur mumble something behind us, but Natalie's sobbing drowned it out.
Outside the terminal, sunshine hit our faces and Ivan reached up to grab my hair, giggling like crazy.
Zander kissed my forehead: "You okay, babe?"
I nodded, remembering this Taylor Swift song that'd been stuck in my head: "And you were my crown, now I'm in exile seeing you out..."
Truth was, I'd figured that out a long time ago.
Missing someone isn't tragic—it's freedom.
Arthur's chapter of my life ended the second I walked through airport security three years ago.
We had our passionate beginning, but we were never meant to have a happy ending.
And honestly? That was perfect.
The three of us left JFK laughing and talking, not giving Arthur and Natalie's drama another thought.
The past needed to stay buried.
But that same afternoon, news broke that Natalie had slit her wrists.
Arthur figured it was just another one of her attention-seeking stunts at first.
Wasn't until his coworker came by to drop off some paperwork and found her body floating in a bathtub full of blood.
After calling 911, the guy stormed into Arthur's office and slapped him in front of the entire station:
"You knew she was fucking unstable! Why weren't you babysitting her crazy ass?"
"She almost killed herself over you before, and now she's actually dead! Hope you're fucking happy!"
"Arthur, if you didn't love her, you should've divorced her! Why'd you have to drive her completely insane?"
The guy was screaming through tears, spilling three years' worth of Natalie's suffering for everyone to hear.
Word spread like wildfire. Nobody at work would talk to Arthur anymore—they'd literally cross the street to avoid him.
Between the massive PR nightmare and his already sketchy work record, the department shitcanned him immediately.
Arthur's parents spent an entire day crying outside the firehouse, and soon the whole neighborhood was gossiping about their disgraced son.
My parents filled me in while I was prepping Ivan's afternoon snack.
The peel came off in one long, unbroken spiral.
"Well, he dug his own grave. Should've thought about consequences before he chose that path."
People who betray others eventually pay the price.
I didn't ask for any more Arthur updates after that. Instead, I bought tickets to Disney World.
Next morning we were Magic Kingdom bound.
Ivan was laughing his head off on the carousel while Zander snapped photos from below, sunlight making him glow with warmth and contentment.
I loved my real life now. And it was fucking perfect.