Seven Years Together, My Fiancee Abandoned Me at the Altar

After seven long years of being together, Eliana finally agreed to marry me.

The wedding hall was filled with guests, laughter, and endless blessings.

But I couldn't feel a trace of joy.

And just as I expected—when it came time to exchange rings, Eliana's so-called godbrother burst through the doors.

In front of everyone, he snatched the wedding ring, tossed it into the trash, and smashed the nine-tier champagne tower into shards. Then he clung to Eliana's leg, sobbing hysterically.

"Sister, I don't want you to get married!"

"You promised you'd stay with me forever!"

Eliana hurried to comfort him softly, then lifted her eyes to me.

"Jared, Gideon's having another episode. Let's cancel the wedding for now—we'll talk about it when he's better."

She said it so casually.

As if this disaster—like every one before it—was just a minor inconvenience.

I pressed my lips together, forcing my tone to stay calm.

"Eliana, we're either getting married today... or we break up."

"You choose."

——

Her face instantly turned cold. "Jared, you know what Gideon's condition is. How could you say something so heartless just to corner me?"

I searched her eyes, trying to find even a flicker of the warmth that once lived there.

But all I saw was indifference.

Seven years—and this scene had replayed countless times.

Eliana once told me that when they were children, she accidentally caused an injury that damaged Gideon's brain.

Since then, he's been prone to fits of madness.

Her guilt became a lifelong chain—one that she willingly wore, and every time, she shielded him.

On my birthday during our third year together, when all our friends were gathered, Gideon suddenly burst into the room and pointed at me, shouting, "You piece of trash! You think you deserve my sister?"

He smashed the cake into my face, and wrecked the entire room.

When my friends tried to retaliate, Eliana stopped them with outstretched arms.

"Jared, he's not well. Don't take it personally."

On Valentine's Day, I took her out for dinner.

Gideon showed up again.

He flipped the table, sending boiling hot oil splashing across my leg—leaving me with second-degree burns.

As Eliana wiped his hands, she looked at me and said gently, "Jared, he didn't mean it. He's having an episode."

But the worst came at my mother's funeral. Gideon crashed the ceremony, banging on a gong, laughing wildly.

"Serves her right! The old hag is dead—next is the bastard who stole my sister!"

"You deserve to die too!"

I clenched my fists until my nails dug into flesh.

And again, Eliana held me back, pleading, "Don't blame him. He can't control himself right now."

Every time, her compassion went only to him.

And me? I was always the collateral—second place to her pity.

Now, in the wreckage of our wedding hall, Eliana was once again holding Gideon, patting his back gently.

Then she looked at me with that same frosty calm.

"Jared," she said quietly, "if you truly loved me, you wouldn't force me to make this choice."

I looked down at the broken glass and spilled champagne, at the wedding ring lying in the trash.

And suddenly, I found it all absurd.

"I gave you seven years, Eliana," I said evenly.

"Seven years of waiting for you to choose."

"Today is the deadline."

"It's me—or him."

Gideon buried his face in her dress, crying, "Sister, please don't leave me..."

For a brief moment, Eliana's eyes flickered with conflict. But just as quickly, they turned to ice.

"If that's the case," she said, her voice steady, "then let's break up."

The answer didn't surprise me. It only confirmed what I'd known all along.

I nodded once, turned to the stunned guests, and said quietly, "The wedding is canceled."

"My apologies, everyone."