WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?！ - Chapter 78: Chapter 78
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Ryan Caldwell married me because his parents pushed him into it.
To him, I was just for show.
A trophy wife to parade around… and ignore.
For six straight months after the wedding, he treated me like I didn't exist.
Then came the crash.
The burns. The hospital.
And Ryan?
He ditched me to watch the goddamn sunrise with Jessica.
I filed for divorce.
He laughed in my face.
"Without me? What would you even be?"
Three years later, I showed up at the same gala—
Arm in arm with my new husband, glowing in my wedding dress.
And Ryan?
He stared like he'd seen a ghost.
Eyes dark.
Hand shaking.
Until—crack—he crushed his champagne glass in pure rage.
I opened my eyes to an empty hospital room.
The stench of antiseptic was sharp and overwhelming.
Pain shot through me like fire eating into bone.
This business trip was a total disaster.
On the way back, two cars collided and burst into flames.
Someone dragged me out just before the explosion.
But the right side of my body was still burned.
In the ambulance, someone used my phone to call Ryan Caldwell—over ten times.
He didn't answer a single one.
Of course he didn't.
He was out watching the sunrise with Jessica.
A nurse glanced at me on her way out, then whispered to another,
"Poor girl. That bad of an accident and her husband won't even answer the phone."
"She's in for a world of pain. That burn recovery is gonna be brutal."
Wrapped head to toe in thick gauze, I reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Sweat broke out on my forehead—I still couldn't reach it.
The woman in the next bed sighed and handed it to me.
And wouldn't you know it—
The first thing I saw on the lock screen was a message from Jessica.
Two high-res photos.
One of a breathtaking sunrise.
The other of her and Ryan holding hands.
Fingers interlaced, way too cozy to be "just friends."
The timestamp?
5:54 a.m.
Right when I was fighting for my life in the ER.
A whole damn day had passed.
Ryan hadn't even checked in.
Calling this a "marriage" was a stretch.
We'd been married six months, and all his social media still showed that same profile pic—
Him smiling at the beach, all golden-hour lighting and fake warmth.
Meanwhile, his and Jessica's matching couple avatars were front and center on her feed.
Like a masochist, I clicked into her profile.
Location tagged: Phoenix Ridge.
Ten posts in a row—
Scenic views from the mountaintop.
And Ryan's perfectly chiseled side profile in almost every shot.
"There's someone out there who'll cross states just to watch the sunrise with you. How could I not be happy?"
I gave the post a like.
To him, I was just for show.
A trophy wife to parade around… and ignore.
For six straight months after the wedding, he treated me like I didn't exist.
Then came the crash.
The burns. The hospital.
And Ryan?
He ditched me to watch the goddamn sunrise with Jessica.
I filed for divorce.
He laughed in my face.
"Without me? What would you even be?"
Three years later, I showed up at the same gala—
Arm in arm with my new husband, glowing in my wedding dress.
And Ryan?
He stared like he'd seen a ghost.
Eyes dark.
Hand shaking.
Until—crack—he crushed his champagne glass in pure rage.
I opened my eyes to an empty hospital room.
The stench of antiseptic was sharp and overwhelming.
Pain shot through me like fire eating into bone.
This business trip was a total disaster.
On the way back, two cars collided and burst into flames.
Someone dragged me out just before the explosion.
But the right side of my body was still burned.
In the ambulance, someone used my phone to call Ryan Caldwell—over ten times.
He didn't answer a single one.
Of course he didn't.
He was out watching the sunrise with Jessica.
A nurse glanced at me on her way out, then whispered to another,
"Poor girl. That bad of an accident and her husband won't even answer the phone."
"She's in for a world of pain. That burn recovery is gonna be brutal."
Wrapped head to toe in thick gauze, I reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Sweat broke out on my forehead—I still couldn't reach it.
The woman in the next bed sighed and handed it to me.
And wouldn't you know it—
The first thing I saw on the lock screen was a message from Jessica.
Two high-res photos.
One of a breathtaking sunrise.
The other of her and Ryan holding hands.
Fingers interlaced, way too cozy to be "just friends."
The timestamp?
5:54 a.m.
Right when I was fighting for my life in the ER.
A whole damn day had passed.
Ryan hadn't even checked in.
Calling this a "marriage" was a stretch.
We'd been married six months, and all his social media still showed that same profile pic—
Him smiling at the beach, all golden-hour lighting and fake warmth.
Meanwhile, his and Jessica's matching couple avatars were front and center on her feed.
Like a masochist, I clicked into her profile.
Location tagged: Phoenix Ridge.
Ten posts in a row—
Scenic views from the mountaintop.
And Ryan's perfectly chiseled side profile in almost every shot.
"There's someone out there who'll cross states just to watch the sunrise with you. How could I not be happy?"
I gave the post a like.
End of WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?！ Chapter 78. Continue reading Chapter 79 or return to WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?！ book page.