Fiancé Cheated with My Sister, I Left

My fingers went slack, and the phone dropped onto the carpet.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, terrified the dying sob building in my throat would escape.

The reason Garrett had made such a grave vow was because I had nearly given my life for him.

The night of the International Ballet Grand Prix final, he was driving me to the theater.

Halfway there, the brakes failed. In the split second before we hit the guardrail, I threw myself over him on instinct. My right leg slammed into the dashboard, and I never made it to the final performance.

Because I missed the mandatory final performance, the committee disqualified me.

The title passed to the next-ranked dancer instead: my sister.

It was Kiera.

Garrett was consumed with guilt at the time, and he promised to spend the rest of his life making it up to me.

Then the truth clicked into place...

All of it... had been one massive conspiracy!

My chest felt so tight I couldn't breathe.

Years ago, his mother had said, "You come from nothing. What could you possibly bring to this family?" I spent ten years fighting to prove her wrong.

For that one nod of approval, I had pushed through torn tendons, shredded toes, and injuries that would never fully heal, all to reach the Grand Prix final. All I wanted was to stand beside him with my head held high.

And he had planned it all from the start, handing the honor I bled for to my sister.

Garrett. When had you decided to do this to me?

A dull, needling ache spread through my chest, and my vision blurred.

I bent down to pick up the phone, my trembling fingers tapping the call button.

"Vivi, what is it?"

This was present-day Garrett, speaking in his usual lazy, gentle tone.

He sounded nothing like the flippant, self-assured man from the other call.

"The wedding is three days away. Where are you?"

A brief pause, then Garrett's voice came through, exasperated but indulgent.

"I'm picking flowers for the wedding. I'm at a friend's estate, choosing the freshest white roses."

Sweet words, but they sent a chill straight through me.

His voice was so gentle.

Had he really stopped loving me?

Then a coy little giggle floated through the phone. "Garrett, my nose is so itchy. Do you think it's the pollen..."

Every muscle in my body locked up.

I knew that voice...

Garrett seemed to fumble to cover the receiver, clearing his throat. "Vivi, I have to go."

The line went dead.

I stood alone, frozen in place.

He was with my sister Kiera right now.

I gripped the phone so tightly my palm ached.

Ever since we were children, anything I loved had always been snatched away by my sister, who knew exactly how to play the victim.

She took our parents' attention, everyone's affection...

All because she supposedly had to try harder to match my achievements.

Now, the man I had loved at the cost of half my life was no exception.

The phone rang again, shrill and grating. This time, it was the future Garrett calling.

"What, crying?" His voice was cold, dripping with haughty irritation. "Where's that fire you had when you were demanding a divorce?"

"If you can't stand losing me, you shouldn't have made a scene in the first place."

I held back my tears and forced a slow smile, but my voice was shaking.

"Garrett, you're blaming me for making a scene?"

"You know I danced until my body broke, and every injury I carry is because I wanted to be with you!"

"You know that for ten years, I gave up everything I had to win your mother's approval. Why did you lie to me like this!"

Silence. Then Garrett's voice returned, laced with a nonchalant weariness, as if the answer were obvious.

"Compared to you, Kiera has it worse."

"You're so talented at ballet, always in the spotlight, while she's been living in your shadow. She was on the verge of depression."

"Vivi, I only kept it from you because I was afraid of hurting you."

My heart stuttered.

I had paid for every ounce of that excellence with years of pain, and somehow Garrett had turned it into a reason to pity Kiera.

I swallowed the metallic taste in my throat and asked, ice in my voice.

"If you were really afraid of hurting me, how did I find out about you two?"

Garrett sighed, as though I were quibbling over nothing.

"These five years, you kept picking fights because I was too busy with work and never took time off to be with you."

"But the truth is, Kiera's old dance injuries kept flaring up, and she needed me to take care of her... That's why I took every Tuesday off."

My nails dug into my palms. I understood what he wasn't saying.

Even after we were married, he had never stopped seeing Kiera.

Garrett let out a slow breath and finished.

"One Tuesday, you were supposed to go out, but you came home instead. And you saw the two of us... in bed..."

"I tried to explain so many times that I was just massaging away her pain, but you wouldn't believe a word of it. You screamed for a divorce like a lunatic."

The tears behind my eyes surged harder, but I forced them down and kept my voice cold.

"You had her pinned to the bed. What is there to explain?"

"Garrett, you can lie to yourself all you want. I won't."

A stunned pause. Then his mask shattered, and raw anger bled into his voice.

"Vivian, do you have to be so extreme?"

"Think about how broken your body is. Even if you actually divorced me and left the Whitmore family, what would you have?"

"Stop being so stubborn. The only one who'll suffer is you."

I slammed the phone down and leaned against the wall. A laugh escaped me.

What had I really gotten out of any of this?

Before, I could at least comfort myself that I had his love, and that made it all worthwhile.

But now he had torn apart the delusion I'd been clinging to.

I dialed a number I had saved long ago, my voice hollow with exhaustion.

"Madame Laurent, I'll take the teaching position abroad. I can leave within three days."

"But on one condition: help me leave under a new name, and make sure no one back home can trace me."