Too Late, I’m Not Yours Anymore

My fiancé’s first love Chloe had returned.

Rumor had it she’d been overseas, treating some rare disease. I hadn’t believed it—until the day she showed up at my engagement party.

And I watched as the man I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was sixteen left our party with her.

“Wait for me,” Nathan said, “She is fragile. I need to make sure she is well.” He ignored me, but accompanying her to everywhere.

I threw away the rings, trashed the wedding gown.

When I was pale and trembling from a heart failure later.

Nathan finally showed up. “Don’t you dare die on me, Emily,” His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “We still have a wedding.”

1

I never thought that at my engagement party with Nathan Brooks—the Nathan Brooks—I’d end up meeting his first love. And just like that, my engagement party turned into a complete shit show.

Tonight was supposed to be a dream come true. Getting engaged to the man of my dreams, the one I’d been crushing on since I was sixteen.

I met him at one of his parties back then. He was already the elusive, polished Mr. Brooks of the Elite Casino. I was just a high school girl in borrowed heels, tagging along because my father worked security for him.

But from the moment I saw him, I knew I wanted him. All of him.

So I worked for it. I clawed my way up—business school, internships, long hours, longer nights. Eventually, I earned a position at his side. I became the assistant who knew everything he needed before he even asked.

I became the one he could rely on.

Six years later, I wasn’t just his assistant anymore. I was his fiancée.

As I stood under the warm lights of the ballroom now, wearing the silver-white gown Nathan had picked just for me.

Everything sparkled in perfection. The champagne, the chandeliers, the whispers of envy from the crowd.

All of it mine.

Until a woman in a flowing white dress appeared—her gown, similar to my design, too white that made her look like the spotlight of the night.

The second I saw her. I noticed she looked exactly like the woman in the photograph Nathan kept hidden in his wallet.

Chloe Reed.

Her gaze skimmed over me for a second then moved away, finally landing on Nathan. “Nathan,” she breathed, “I’ve come.”

Nathan went still. Then he smiled. Not the smooth, controlled smile I knew. This one was almost surprise mixing with utmost joy, too out of control.

“Chloe?” His voice cracked.

She stepped closer, took his hand, “I had to come. I hoped I wasn’t too late…”

And just like that, the room faded. Nathan and Chloe were in some untouchable bubble of memory and love.

People stared. I felt their pity like glass shards under my skin.

Someone else—probably Chloe’s friend—stepped forward and dropped the bomb. “Nathan, didn’t you promise to marry Chloe? Why are you throwing an