The Way Out He Never Saw Coming - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
You are reading The Way Out He Never Saw Coming, Chapter 1: Chapter 1. Read more chapters of The Way Out He Never Saw Coming.
Leon had promised we'd get married after seven years together. But the day I went wedding dress shopping, I overheard him on a livestream, laughing with his friends. "My girlfriend won't stop nagging me about marriage. It's so annoying—what should I do?"
I saw red. When I confronted him, he didn't even try to explain. Instead, he packed a suitcase, booked a flight, and walked out. His parting shot? A tweet: "Never spoil a woman too much."
A month later, he called, his voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Emily, weren't we supposed to get married? Why haven't you made any plans?"
I looked down at the gorgeous man kneeling in front of me, holding out a ring, and smiled coldly. "Oh, I am making plans. Just not with you."
Seven years. That's how long I'd waited for Leon to propose. I'd convinced myself he was just as excited as I was—until the day we went wedding dress shopping.
I was in the middle of slipping into my dream gown—a delicate lace dress with a flowing skirt that made me feel like I was floating. The boutique buzzed with laughter and chatter as brides admired themselves in the mirrors. My stylist had just adjusted my veil when Leon's voice cut through the noise, loud and clear from his livestream:
"My girlfriend won't stop nagging me about marriage. It's driving me nuts—what should I do?"
The stylist froze. The room went silent. In the mirror, I saw myself—flawless makeup, perfect hair, a dress straight out of a fairy tale—and suddenly, I felt like a joke. My chest tightened, tears burning behind my eyes. I didn't wait for the stylist to finish. I bolted, still in the dress.
The October air bit through the thin fabric as I stumbled barefoot onto the pavement. The cold stone steps scraped my feet, but I barely felt it. People gasped as I rushed past, their pitying glances doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest. Every step screamed the same truth: He never cared.
"Emily! What the hell are you doing?" Leon's voice rang out behind me, sharp with irritation.
For a second, I hesitated. A stupid part of me hoped he'd pull me close and tell me it was all a misunderstanding. But when I turned, all I saw was that familiar scowl—the one he wore whenever I "bothered" him.
"Do you have any idea how much that dress cost?" he snapped, like I'd just ruined his favorite jersey. "It's a month's salary! What if you tear it?"
The world went quiet. My foot was bleeding, my shoulders shaking from the cold, but Leon didn't even notice. All he saw was the price tag.
Whispers swirled around us.
"That poor girl…"
"Look at her. She deserves better."
Leon grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward the boutique. "What more do you want?" he hissed. "You wanted to get married—fine. You wanted photos—fine. What else could you possibly need?"
I saw red. When I confronted him, he didn't even try to explain. Instead, he packed a suitcase, booked a flight, and walked out. His parting shot? A tweet: "Never spoil a woman too much."
A month later, he called, his voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Emily, weren't we supposed to get married? Why haven't you made any plans?"
I looked down at the gorgeous man kneeling in front of me, holding out a ring, and smiled coldly. "Oh, I am making plans. Just not with you."
Seven years. That's how long I'd waited for Leon to propose. I'd convinced myself he was just as excited as I was—until the day we went wedding dress shopping.
I was in the middle of slipping into my dream gown—a delicate lace dress with a flowing skirt that made me feel like I was floating. The boutique buzzed with laughter and chatter as brides admired themselves in the mirrors. My stylist had just adjusted my veil when Leon's voice cut through the noise, loud and clear from his livestream:
"My girlfriend won't stop nagging me about marriage. It's driving me nuts—what should I do?"
The stylist froze. The room went silent. In the mirror, I saw myself—flawless makeup, perfect hair, a dress straight out of a fairy tale—and suddenly, I felt like a joke. My chest tightened, tears burning behind my eyes. I didn't wait for the stylist to finish. I bolted, still in the dress.
The October air bit through the thin fabric as I stumbled barefoot onto the pavement. The cold stone steps scraped my feet, but I barely felt it. People gasped as I rushed past, their pitying glances doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest. Every step screamed the same truth: He never cared.
"Emily! What the hell are you doing?" Leon's voice rang out behind me, sharp with irritation.
For a second, I hesitated. A stupid part of me hoped he'd pull me close and tell me it was all a misunderstanding. But when I turned, all I saw was that familiar scowl—the one he wore whenever I "bothered" him.
"Do you have any idea how much that dress cost?" he snapped, like I'd just ruined his favorite jersey. "It's a month's salary! What if you tear it?"
The world went quiet. My foot was bleeding, my shoulders shaking from the cold, but Leon didn't even notice. All he saw was the price tag.
Whispers swirled around us.
"That poor girl…"
"Look at her. She deserves better."
Leon grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward the boutique. "What more do you want?" he hissed. "You wanted to get married—fine. You wanted photos—fine. What else could you possibly need?"
End of The Way Out He Never Saw Coming Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to The Way Out He Never Saw Coming book page.