Not the Wedding I Need

My fiancé wants to marry me in a pizzeria. At the same time, he promises to give his true love the rest of his life on a luxurious cruise.

Our wedding is only 48 hours away, but I don't want him anymore.

I was so busy preparing for my wedding to Harold Lawson that my gastritis acted up. Meanwhile, he was busy celebrating his last night being single with his true love, Ivory Frost.

I curled up on the floor, unable to move. I couldn't reach Harold even until I passed out.

I woke up in the hospital and saw his whereabouts on his social media. It turned out he'd changed what was supposed to be his bachelor party to a wedding night just for him and Ivory.

He was about to become my husband, yet I saw from the video how he made her a heartfelt promise. "I'll give you the best I have. She'll only be my wife in name."

They then shared a passionate kiss on a luxury cruise.

To think I would be marrying him in a simple pizzeria in 48 hours.

I calmly turned off my phone. Perhaps there wasn't any need for a wedding anymore.

…

There were 36 hours to go to the wedding. When I got home, I saw that Harold had actually gotten back before I had. He sat on the couch.

When he heard me opening the door, he suddenly ran over and locked me outside. "You're about to become a married woman, yet you had the nerve to stay out all night. How shameless can you be?"

He had the audacity to berate me for that, but right before he locked me out, I saw the bedroom door open. Ivory came out in a loose men's shirt, her hair damp.

I stood at the door, feeling unexpectedly calm. Harold had already given her a wedding—of course he had to follow up with a wedding night.

I doubt he even remembered he had an actual fiancée who had to spend the night at the hospital due to an illness.

As I turned to leave, the door was opened. Harold hooked a finger at me. "Come in. I'm hungry; cook for me."

I'd yet to eat anything thus far; I had no intention of tormenting my stomach. So, I headed to the kitchen without a word.

Ivory was back in her dress, but it was so skimpy that it exposed more of her skin than the shirt had. She clung to Harold's arm and smiled sweetly at me. "I had so much fun last night that I stayed out too late, and Harry was worried about me. That's why he told me to spend the night here.

"You won't get mad at me, will you, Minnie? Harry's just too concerned about me."

I said indifferently, "No, it's fine."

Then, I headed into the kitchen.

Harold's eyes had been darting around diffidently earlier, but he now relaxed when he heard I wasn't