Chapter 2 · Later, He Learned I Would Never Return

Chapter 2

"She was so scared that her hands were shaking. It was an accident," Randy said as he reached out to close the door for me. "Don't stare at other people's personal things. It's rude."

I looked up at him. "This is the room I set up for my parents."

"Your parents aren't even staying here tonight," Randy replied, like it was no big deal. "Anyway, the bedsheets got dirty. I'll have the housekeeper wash them."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Randy, do you think something doesn't count as dirty as long as it can be washed off?"

His face fell. "Do you have to make it sound so harsh?"

Sylvia walked over to the door, her eyes welling up with tears. "I'll switch rooms. I'm fine with sleeping on the couch."

"You have a sensitive stomach. No way you're sleeping on the couch," Randy replied, not missing a beat.

Then he turned to me, his voice tight with barely contained impatience. "Verena, you've already called off the marriage license, canceled the wedding, and now you want to move out?

"Sylvia's only staying here for a few days. How much more are you going to embarrass me?"

I closed the box in the walk-in closet and said, "I'm only taking my own things out."

"This is our future home," Randy insisted.

"My name isn't on the deed," I replied.

He was left speechless.

After a few seconds, he put his hand on my suitcase, stopping me. "I'll pay you back for the money you spent fixing up the place. But you can't leave today."

"Why not?" I asked.

"If you leave, what will the neighbors think? What about the relatives? They'll think I cheated before the wedding," he said.

I looked up at him.

He finally admitted what he really cared about.

It wasn't about why I was upset. It was about what everyone else would think of him.

The movers hovered awkwardly at the doorway, too embarrassed to step inside.

Randy lowered his voice. "Don't let outsiders make a spectacle of us."

I brushed his hand off the suitcase and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Cardenas. I'm not about to go around telling people whether you cheated or not."

His gaze sharpened. "Verena."

Sylvia suddenly bent down to pick up the keys from the floor, but as soon as her fingers touched them, she jerked back like she'd been startled.

"Are these your keys? Should I not touch them?" she asked.

Randy quickly crouched down and gently grabbed her hand. "Hey, don't move. Your hands are still shaking."

His knee pressed against the bag holding my wedding dress, the opening slipping partly open.

The white skirt peeked out, and the edge of his shoe left a gray scuff mark on it.

As I stared at that gray mark, I suddenly remembered the day I tried on wedding dresses.

The saleswoman said he had a good eye. He picked out the perfect dress for me in one glance.

But honestly, he barely glanced at it before Sylvia called, and he left right away.

I paid the final balance myself.

Now, he didn't even realize he'd dirtied it with his shoe.

I set the keys down on the entryway cabinet. "Keep them safe. That way, your guests won't have any trouble getting in."

Randy finally looked up, realizing I wasn't waiting for him to make things right.

He hurried after me to the elevator, blocking the doors with his hand. "If you leave today, don't expect me to come after you."

I stood there, surrounded by boxes, looking at him.

Back then, whenever he said that, I would panic.

I used to be terrified he'd stop caring about me.

Now, it felt like he was saying it too late.

"Then don't," I said.

As the elevator doors slid shut, his anger faded into a cold, hard expression.

The night I moved back in with my parents, the family group chat blew up.

Randy sent a message.

Randy: [Verena's been under a lot of pre-wedding stress lately, so we've had to postpone the marriage license and the wedding for now. Sorry for worrying everyone. I should've done a better job looking after her.]

His message was all about keeping up appearances.

Every word was putting me down as someone under pre-wedding stress, emotionally unstable, and not handling things well.

He didn't mention the girl in the passenger seat outside the courthouse, or that Sylvia was already living in our future home.

People started chiming in right away.

[It's normal for girls to get moody before the wedding. Randy, spoil her a little.]

[Verena, don't be so stubborn. The Cardenas family has such a good background.]

[The wedding's already been announced. It's not proper to keep changing the plans.]

Before I could reply, Randy called my mother's phone.

My mother shot me a look and put him on speaker.

"Mrs. Martin, is Verena with you?" Randy asked.

"Yeah, she's here," my mother replied.

"Can you try to talk some sense into her?" Randy said.

His voice sounded worn out, like he was some poor guy exhausted by his fiancée's drama.

"I've spoiled her for years," Randy said with a tired sigh. "Whenever she's upset, she stops talking to me. Usually, she'd stay mad for a couple of days and then get over it, but this time she won't let it go."

My mother froze mid-slice, the knife hanging in the air. "Who are you calling spoiled?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mrs. Martin, that's not what I meant," Randy said.

My father came out of the study and took the phone from my mother. "Then what do you mean?"

Randy paused for a moment, then explained, "Mrs. Martin, the hotel has already charged a thirty percent cancellation fee.

"Half of the invitations have been sent out, and everyone at the company knows we're getting married. Has Verena thought about the fallout from calling it off like this?"

My father glanced at me.

"We'll handle whatever comes next," he said.

"This isn't about money," Randy said.

"Then what is it about?" My father shot back.

Suddenly, Sylvia's soft voice came through the phone. "Randy, can I borrow one of Verena's pajamas? My clothes got ruined by spray paint."

The air went dead silent.

Randy obviously tried to cover the phone, but it was too late.

My mother had already heard it.

She set the paring knife down on the table, her tone turning ice-cold. "Randy, you let another woman move into the home you were supposed to share with my daughter, and then call her spoiled?"

Chapter 2

"She was so scared that her hands were shaking. It was an accident," Randy said as he reached out to close the door for me. "Don't stare at other people's personal things. It's rude."

I looked up at him. "This is the room I set up for my parents."

"Your parents aren't even staying here tonight," Randy replied, like it was no big deal. "Anyway, the bedsheets got dirty. I'll have the housekeeper wash them."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Randy, do you think something doesn't count as dirty as long as it can be washed off?"

His face fell. "Do you have to make it sound so harsh?"

Sylvia walked over to the door, her eyes welling up with tears. "I'll switch rooms. I'm fine with sleeping on the couch."

"You have a sensitive stomach. No way you're sleeping on the couch," Randy replied, not missing a beat.

Then he turned to me, his voice tight with barely contained impatience. "Verena, you've already called off the marriage license, canceled the wedding, and now you want to move out?

"Sylvia's only staying here for a few days. How much more are you going to embarrass me?"

I closed the box in the walk-in closet and said, "I'm only taking my own things out."

"This is our future home," Randy insisted.

"My name isn't on the deed," I replied.

He was left speechless.

After a few seconds, he put his hand on my suitcase, stopping me. "I'll pay you back for the money you spent fixing up the place. But you can't leave today."

"Why not?" I asked.

"If you leave, what will the neighbors think? What about the relatives? They'll think I cheated before the wedding," he said.

I looked up at him.

He finally admitted what he really cared about.

It wasn't about why I was upset. It was about what everyone else would think of him.

The movers hovered awkwardly at the doorway, too embarrassed to step inside.

Randy lowered his voice. "Don't let outsiders make a spectacle of us."

I brushed his hand off the suitcase and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Cardenas. I'm not about to go around telling people whether you cheated or not."

His gaze sharpened. "Verena."

Sylvia suddenly bent down to pick up the keys from the floor, but as soon as her fingers touched them, she jerked back like she'd been startled.

"Are these your keys? Should I not touch them?" she asked.

Randy quickly crouched down and gently grabbed her hand. "Hey, don't move. Your hands are still shaking."

His knee pressed against the bag holding my wedding dress, the opening slipping partly open.

The white skirt peeked out, and the edge of his shoe left a gray scuff mark on it.

As I stared at that gray mark, I suddenly remembered the day I tried on wedding dresses.

The saleswoman said he had a good eye. He picked out the perfect dress for me in one glance.

But honestly, he barely glanced at it before Sylvia called, and he left right away.

I paid the final balance myself.

Now, he didn't even realize he'd dirtied it with his shoe.

I set the keys down on the entryway cabinet. "Keep them safe. That way, your guests won't have any trouble getting in."

Randy finally looked up, realizing I wasn't waiting for him to make things right.

He hurried after me to the elevator, blocking the doors with his hand. "If you leave today, don't expect me to come after you."

I stood there, surrounded by boxes, looking at him.

Back then, whenever he said that, I would panic.

I used to be terrified he'd stop caring about me.

Now, it felt like he was saying it too late.

"Then don't," I said.

As the elevator doors slid shut, his anger faded into a cold, hard expression.

The night I moved back in with my parents, the family group chat blew up.

Randy sent a message.

His message was all about keeping up appearances.

Every word was putting me down as someone under pre-wedding stress, emotionally unstable, and not handling things well.

He didn't mention the girl in the passenger seat outside the courthouse, or that Sylvia was already living in our future home.

People started chiming in right away.

[It's normal for girls to get moody before the wedding. Randy, spoil her a little.]

[Verena, don't be so stubborn. The Cardenas family has such a good background.]

[The wedding's already been announced. It's not proper to keep changing the plans.]

Before I could reply, Randy called my mother's phone.

My mother shot me a look and put him on speaker.

"Mrs. Martin, is Verena with you?" Randy asked.

"Yeah, she's here," my mother replied.

"Can you try to talk some sense into her?" Randy said.

His voice sounded worn out, like he was some poor guy exhausted by his fiancée's drama.

My mother froze mid-slice, the knife hanging in the air. "Who are you calling spoiled?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mrs. Martin, that's not what I meant," Randy said.

My father came out of the study and took the phone from my mother. "Then what do you mean?"

Randy paused for a moment, then explained, "Mrs. Martin, the hotel has already charged a thirty percent cancellation fee.

"Half of the invitations have been sent out, and everyone at the company knows we're getting married. Has Verena thought about the fallout from calling it off like this?"

My father glanced at me.

"We'll handle whatever comes next," he said.

"This isn't about money," Randy said.

"Then what is it about?" My father shot back.

Suddenly, Sylvia's soft voice came through the phone. "Randy, can I borrow one of Verena's pajamas? My clothes got ruined by spray paint."

The air went dead silent.

Randy obviously tried to cover the phone, but it was too late.

My mother had already heard it.

She set the paring knife down on the table, her tone turning ice-cold. "Randy, you let another woman move into the home you were supposed to share with my daughter, and then call her spoiled?"