You're No Longer My Groom

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes.

"I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

I had loved Julian Lancaster for ten years, and today was our wedding day. This was the most important moment of my life.

On the stage stood my beloved. Below, our family and friends were gathered.

But just as this perfect moment unfolded, a sharp ringtone shattered the harmony.

It was Vivienne Hayes.

In an instant, I recognized the caller—not because I had memorized the number, but because Julian had set a special ringtone for her—his first love.

"Honey, hold on. I need to take this call."

Julian's eyes lit up as he pushed me aside without hesitation. He quickly straightened his suit, his face showing a careful, almost eager anticipation—something I had never seen from him in all our years together.

I stared at him, feeling as if I were looking at a stranger.

"Vivi, what's wrong?" Julian answered, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. He smiled brightly, his entire demeanor softening.

"Julian, my stomach hurts," Vivienne's weak voice came through the phone.

In the next second, the composed man beside me completely panicked. "Vivi, don't move! I'll get you some medicine right away."

He hung up, not sparing me a single glance before hurrying off.

"Julian, this is our wedding! Where are you going?" I grabbed his sleeve, my fingers trembling, unwilling to let him go.

Ten years. It had always been like this for a decade. No matter the time or place, the moment Vivienne called, Julian would drop everything and rush to her like a loyal lapdog.

I had thought he would change. He had even promised that from then on, I would be the only one in his heart.

But now, once again, he was abandoning me.

"I'm sorry, honey. Vivi isn't feeling well. I need to bring her some medicine."

He uttered the apology quickly, but his actions told a different story. With a harsh grip, he forcefully pried my fingers off his sleeve, his grip digging painfully into my skin.

"If she's sick, she should see a doctor! You're not one! Has her entire family gone? Are you the only friend she has? Why does she keep calling you?"

I had endured enough. I had swallowed my anger for years, but that day, I couldn't hold back any longer. The frustration and the resentment had all spilled out.

A sharp slap echoed through the hall.

I clutched my burning cheek, staring in shock at the man in front of me—dressed in his pristine groom's suit, the embodiment of elegance, yet utterly heartless.

"Did you just slap me? You actually slapped me for another woman?"

Tears blurred my vision. My heart, once so full of love for him, shattered in an instant.

Julian pointed a finger at me, his voice filled with rage. "Clara Whitmore, you're absolutely vile! How