Seven Years Lost: My Firefighter fiancé Saved Everyone But Our Love - Chapter 78: Chapter 78
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                    But the drama wasn't over yet.
Two days later, someone was knocking my door nonstop.
I looked through the peephole—Hunter was standing there with this pathetic smile plastered on his face.
"Honey? Flora? Come on, open up! How come all my stuff is out here in the hallway?"
I yanked the door open: "Hunter, are you deaf or just stupid? I told you—we're done. Over. Finished."
Hunter's smile instantly crumbled.
"You!" He tried to push past me into the apartment: "Do you really have to be this ruthless? What about our fifteen years together? Doesn't any of that mean anything to you?"
"Our fifteen years?"
I blocked the doorway: "The moment you started screwing around with that woman, blowing my money on her and her brat, even letting her kid steal my daughter's name—the moment you sent my baby to get beaten up just to keep your side piece happy—that's when our fifteen years died. And now you want to talk about the good times? Doesn't that make you sick?"
"I... I dumped her! I swear to God I did!" Hunter was practically begging: "I cut all ties with her! Baby, just give me one more chance! Just one! For Flora's sake..."
"No need."
I cut him off cold: "Hunter, you're missing the point here."
"What?"
"You've already lost me and Flora. If you throw away your relationship with them just to try to win us back, you'll end up with nothing at all. That's a pretty fucking stupid gamble, don't you think?"
Hunter's lips were trembling like he wanted to say something else.
But I was completely out of patience and called building security to drag his ass out of here.
That night, his mother called my phone.
I saw her name pop up, hit decline and blocked her number.
Hunter must have been truly desperate because he actually tried posting sob story videos online, crying his eyes out while trashing me, trying to weaponize social media to force me back.
Too bad for him—times have changed, and people aren't idiots.
Right after he posted his pity party, someone compiled all his "dirty laundry" and posted them in the comments.
Public opinion flipped instantly. His account got swarmed by angry users posting memes, insults, and his personal info.
Within half a day, the Instagram platform banned his account.
Finally, court day arrived.
I walked into the courthouse with Flora and my lawyer.
Hunter was sitting at the defendant's table.
He looked like he'd aged a decade. His usually perfect hair was a mess, and his wrinkled suit hung off him like a deflated balloon.
I just looked away calmly.
The trial went smoothly. My lawyer had prepared an airtight case, and Hunter's lawyer couldn't argue with cold hard facts.
Walking out of the courthouse, the afternoon sun was kind of blinding.
Hunter stumbled out too, looking completely broken.
He stopped on the steps and looked at me one last time.
Then Hunter pulled out his phone and dialed a number saved as "Wifey."
Ring, ring, ring.
He pressed his lips together stubbornly and hit redial. This time, someone actually picked up.
"Hello?"
Hunter's voice was pathetically hopeful: "Hey, it's me! I..."
But before he could finish, the voice on the other end cut him off brutally:
"Hunter Steven, you've got some nerve calling me! Stay the fuck away from me! I get sick just seeing your face! You pathetic loser! Fucking deadbeat! Playing pretend CEO! You made me look like a complete idiot! Don't ever call me again! I want to puke even just seeing your number!"
                
            
        Two days later, someone was knocking my door nonstop.
I looked through the peephole—Hunter was standing there with this pathetic smile plastered on his face.
"Honey? Flora? Come on, open up! How come all my stuff is out here in the hallway?"
I yanked the door open: "Hunter, are you deaf or just stupid? I told you—we're done. Over. Finished."
Hunter's smile instantly crumbled.
"You!" He tried to push past me into the apartment: "Do you really have to be this ruthless? What about our fifteen years together? Doesn't any of that mean anything to you?"
"Our fifteen years?"
I blocked the doorway: "The moment you started screwing around with that woman, blowing my money on her and her brat, even letting her kid steal my daughter's name—the moment you sent my baby to get beaten up just to keep your side piece happy—that's when our fifteen years died. And now you want to talk about the good times? Doesn't that make you sick?"
"I... I dumped her! I swear to God I did!" Hunter was practically begging: "I cut all ties with her! Baby, just give me one more chance! Just one! For Flora's sake..."
"No need."
I cut him off cold: "Hunter, you're missing the point here."
"What?"
"You've already lost me and Flora. If you throw away your relationship with them just to try to win us back, you'll end up with nothing at all. That's a pretty fucking stupid gamble, don't you think?"
Hunter's lips were trembling like he wanted to say something else.
But I was completely out of patience and called building security to drag his ass out of here.
That night, his mother called my phone.
I saw her name pop up, hit decline and blocked her number.
Hunter must have been truly desperate because he actually tried posting sob story videos online, crying his eyes out while trashing me, trying to weaponize social media to force me back.
Too bad for him—times have changed, and people aren't idiots.
Right after he posted his pity party, someone compiled all his "dirty laundry" and posted them in the comments.
Public opinion flipped instantly. His account got swarmed by angry users posting memes, insults, and his personal info.
Within half a day, the Instagram platform banned his account.
Finally, court day arrived.
I walked into the courthouse with Flora and my lawyer.
Hunter was sitting at the defendant's table.
He looked like he'd aged a decade. His usually perfect hair was a mess, and his wrinkled suit hung off him like a deflated balloon.
I just looked away calmly.
The trial went smoothly. My lawyer had prepared an airtight case, and Hunter's lawyer couldn't argue with cold hard facts.
Walking out of the courthouse, the afternoon sun was kind of blinding.
Hunter stumbled out too, looking completely broken.
He stopped on the steps and looked at me one last time.
Then Hunter pulled out his phone and dialed a number saved as "Wifey."
Ring, ring, ring.
He pressed his lips together stubbornly and hit redial. This time, someone actually picked up.
"Hello?"
Hunter's voice was pathetically hopeful: "Hey, it's me! I..."
But before he could finish, the voice on the other end cut him off brutally:
"Hunter Steven, you've got some nerve calling me! Stay the fuck away from me! I get sick just seeing your face! You pathetic loser! Fucking deadbeat! Playing pretend CEO! You made me look like a complete idiot! Don't ever call me again! I want to puke even just seeing your number!"
End of Seven Years Lost: My Firefighter fiancé Saved Everyone But Our Love Chapter 78. Continue reading Chapter 79 or return to Seven Years Lost: My Firefighter fiancé Saved Everyone But Our Love book page.