Lies of Love: A Betrayed Heart

When my childhood sweetheart, Jameson Reed, went bankrupt, he took my hand and asked, "Will you love me forever?"

I nodded but wondered, "What does forever really mean?"

Later, he made a comeback.

I traveled across the country to surprise him, only to find his wedding photos with someone else on a giant screen.

That day, he held my hand and said, "Didn't we promise forever?"

I finally understood that losing was the true forever.

*****

I clock out at six.

By six-thirty, I had grabbed some discounted groceries.

I was home cooking by seven.

At nine-thirty, I was on a train with a thermos of soup, traveling across the country because Jameson said he missed my soup.

We hadn't seen each other in over a month.

His company was at a crucial moment, recently landing a big deal.

I saw our shared account balance growing and convinced myself to visit him as a celebration of making it through our toughest times. Finally, we no longer had to scrimp and save, counting every penny.

I thought, "With him signing this big contract, we can already afford to buy a house and get married. In the precious and costly city of Veloria, we will have our own small home."

These thoughts in my mind prompted me to impulsively buy the cheapest train ticket, preparing to give Jameson a surprise.

I arrived early but felt lost on this unfamiliar street.

I went to the company address I knew but was turned away by the security guard.

Jameson didn't answer the phone.

It started drizzling outside again.

I sheltered at a bus stop with my thermos.

A wedding car parade passes by.

I began to envy and thought, "It would be wonderful if our wedding car were this nice."

Before I had a chance to marvel, I was splashed halfway up my body by dirty water from the roadside.

I stood there staring for a while. I had no choice but to wipe myself with a tissue.

I thought, "Well, it's a happy day, so I won't blame you."

I braved the rain and ducked into a nearby store, only to be blinded by a large screen in the mall displaying.

The caption read: [Congratulations to Mr. Jameson Reed and Ms. Sophie Brooks on their wedding!]

Jameson was in a wedding suit, just as I'd imagined.

But beside him was a completely unfamiliar face.

My first reaction was to laugh. "This person really looks like Jameson."

But those familiar features were unmistakable.

Jameson got married today.

He'd texted me just yesterday, saying he missed my soup.

But today he was holding another woman's hand.

And I foolishly rushed over, just in time to witness this wedding.

I found the address from the poster and sneaked in.

The wedding was lavish and dreamy.

I slipped into the hall just as the ceremony was beginning.

Under the spotlight, Jameson's face seemed distant and aloof, but it softened when the bride appeared.

The host asked, "Mr. Reed, do you take Ms. Brooks to be your wife?"

My mind went blank. My limbs went numb, and the thermos I was clutching fell to the floor with a thud.

Greasy chicken soup splashed all over me.

The smiling guests around me turned away with looks of disdain.

"Who's this relative?"

"Doesn't look like anyone we know. With that shabby appearance, is she here just to mooch a meal?"

"She seems unstable. Get security to take her out."

Before security dragged me out, I locked eyes with Jameson through the sea of people.

His elegant suit shone under the spotlight, dazzling and radiant.

I stood there, drenched in muck and rain, my clothes half-dry and smelling of greasy soup.

After a few seconds of eye contact, I bolted.

When I got home, it still felt like a dream.

I'd known Jameson for over a decade.

Three years ago, news broke that he was an illegitimate child. He lost his family's support, and his company went bankrupt.

That was the hardest time for us.

I drained all my savings and told him, "It's okay. We can start over."

During that time, we could only afford to buy one portion of meat when we ate out.

He always put it in my bowl.

Thankfully, he was ambitious and smart, and his career began to recover.

But I was still haunted by those tough days, learning to live frugally.

We supported each other for three years.

Now, I couldn't understand how the groom at the wedding could be the same Jameson who was so indifferent to the outside world but always affectionate towards me.

I woke up to the smell of the soup.

It was bright outside, with birds chirping clearly in the trees.

I went to the kitchen and saw Jameson's back. He was wearing an apron tied with a bow at his waist. "You're up? The soup is ready."

He scooped a bowl of the soup and fed it to me.

The temperature was just right.

He smiled, "How's the taste?"

I nodded absentmindedly.

This calm scene made me question if yesterday had been a dream.

I made an excuse to wash up and retreated to the bathroom to check my phone.

Sure enough, there was news.

The headline read: [Century Wedding: The director of Primewave Group marries the second daughter of Brooks Jewels.]

Flipping through the photos of extravagant gifts, grand banquets, and exquisite meals, I suddenly realized Jameson's comeback was far easier than I'd imagined.

I opened the door and walked out.

Jameson was dressed in a simple white trench coat and had prepared lunch. "Let's eat."

I noticed that this seemingly unremarkable trench coat was also from a prestigious brand.

Jameson never bothered to hide his wealth from me. I had just been blind for too long.

I sat down, staring at the food, but didn't dare to ask too many questions. It felt like saying anything might shatter the peaceful moment.

After a long hesitation, I finally asked, "Jameson, are we getting married?"

There was a brief silence.

Jameson remained calm and said slowly, "A certificate doesn't mean much. Even if we don't get married, we'll still be together."

Jameson didn't stay long. A phone call hurriedly called him away.

Before he left, he said, "Ariana, I will transfer some money to you. Take the afternoon off and go shopping or relax."

After he left, I opened my bank account.

He transferred me three thousand dollars.

Although Jameson was generous with daily expenses, he rarely made large transfers to me. My impression of him was still stuck in the days when he was bankrupt. Until that luxurious wedding, it felt like a slap in the face.

I accepted the money and went to work that afternoon.

My supervisor, Tessa Lane, looked relieved when she saw me. "I thought you might have taken a day off. A client specifically asked for you."

I work as a conservator at a well-known private studio.

Although the work was tedious, the pay was decent.

Most of my money was saved up for buying a house.

I sat at my workbench, and someone handed me a painting of flowers and birds from the Aurelian Dynasty. "It was hanging in the study, and it got wet because the window wasn't closed. Can it be repaired?"

I examined it carefully and replied, "It can be repaired."

The person's voice was gentle. When I looked up, I saw a familiar face.

The first time I saw her was at her wedding. She was Sophie Brooks.

I suddenly felt ashamed as memories I had tried to ignore stirred up in my mind.

I lowered my head, trying to focus on the repair.

Megan Ellis, Sophie's friend, said harshly, "Be careful. This is an antique painting. You can't afford to mess it up."

As I worked on the restoration, Megan continued to criticize, "How many genuine antiques have you seen in your life? Probably only fakes. Don't get used to repairing second-rate stuff. You might end up ruining real antiques."

I stayed silent.

Thankfully, the issue wasn't hard to fix. When I finished, I handed the painting over.

Megan grabbed it roughly and, with one yank, tore the antique painting in half.

I stood there stunned.

Sophie's eyes filled with tears. "This is a gift from my grandfather."

Megan yelled, "You must have been jealous and did this on purpose." She then tried to come over the counter to hit me.

I stepped back. The tools on the counter were scattered.

My colleagues rushed out to mediate. "So sorry. She definitely didn't do it on purpose."

But Megan kept shouting at me. "She's a mistress who stole someone else's husband on their wedding night. If we haven't come to see what kind of whore she is, we wouldn't have bothered. Now it's clear. This bitch really has her ways. She ruined a family heirloom. Your store will compensate us until bankruptcy."

The shouting was deafening.

My attempts to explain were drowned out. I could only feel the odd looks from my colleagues.

They tried to mediate but seemed uncomfortable.

The store manager, Vivian Langley, tried to control the situation.

A colleague pulled me away from the chaos.

After a long while, Vivian came in. "I'm sorry. I also have to take responsibility. The lady says if we can fix it, she won't pursue it further, but she wants an apology. Also, you probably can't work here anymore."

Vivian's eyes showed pity.

I forced a pale smile. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble."

Whether or not I was at fault, neither I nor Vivian could afford to cover the cost of a genuine antique. Besides, Vivian was usually quite nice.

I fixed my expression and walked out.

Sophie was sitting on the couch, her eyes red from crying. Megan comforted her and glared at me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I tried to calm my emotions.

Megan shouted, "No sincerity at all. Apologize on your knees." Then she knocked over the coffee on the table.

I dodged the hot coffee but received even more hostile glares.

Sophie's voice was hoarse. "That painting was very important to me. Can it still be repaired?"

I quickly nodded. "Yes, it can."

Sophie said, "Can you take me to see it?"

It was hard to refuse those tearful eyes.

I led her to my studio.

Once the door was closed, she tilted her head.

I explained the restoration process as best as I could, but she softly asked, "I'm curious. How come Jameson's lover lives such a shabby life? Is it because he doesn't like you Otherwise, why wouldn't he even tell you about the wedding and let you be thrown out?"

My voice caught in my throat.

When the door suddenly opened, Sophie's figure slumped to the floor.

I turned to see Jameson's tense face.

Megan gasped in surprise, "What did you say to her? She can't be too emotional."

Jameson strode over and quickly picked up the fallen Sophie.

His eyes were fixed on me, full of reproach.

Megan pointed at me. "Mr. Reed, she must have said something to Sophie. You can't let her off."

"I didn't," I frowned. "If you don't believe me, check the security footage."

"Could she just faint for no reason?" Megan didn't want to let me off easily.

A cold voice interrupted our argument, "Ariana, Sophie's fainting is partly your fault. Make some soup and bring it to the hospital."

I was left speechless, watching them leave.

I didn't want to heed Jameson's request.

I thought, "Isn't there any explanation? I feel like a joke."

As soon as I walked out, Jameson's assistant, Lucas Bennett, stopped me. "Ms. Woods, Mr. Reed asked you to bring a bowl of the soup."

I replied coldly, "What if I don't?"

Lucas looked down. "You wouldn't want Mr. Reed to be put in a difficult position, would you?"

In the end, I took the soup to the hospital myself.

Despite Lucas offering to deliver it, I insisted on going.

In the hospital room, many people were fussing over Sophie.

She was awake but looked weak, leaning against the bed.

Jameson didn't spare me a glance as he opened the soup.

Sophie smiled at me, "It's not your fault. It's just my health issue."

She scooped some soup and then gave a slight exclamation. "Jameson, there's glass in this."

All eyes turned to me.