She Kissed Another Man While My Mom Died, Now She Begs for Mercy

On the day my mother underwent open surgery, Chloe was out street-racing and making out with Tyler, the boy next door. Until the moment my mother passed away, Chloe never showed up. I held the funeral alone, left our promise rings on the counter, packed my bags, and walked away. When we met again, a massive billboard was broadcasting the live engagement party between me and the city's newly appointed female CEO. Watching us share a passionate kiss on screen, Chloe broke down in tears, begging me on her knees to take her back. My mother had just been wheeled into the operating room. Before they took her in, she held my hand and urged me, "Be good to Chloe. Set a date and marry her soon." I squeezed her hand and nodded. The doctor had already pulled me aside earlier to warn me that the chances of survival were slim. Yet, surgery was our only desperate shot. Anxiety gnawed at my chest. In a moment like this, I wanted nothing more than to have my girlfriend standing by my side, facing the nightmare with me. I called Chloe over and over, but the calls went straight to voicemail. Then I saw a new post from a local street-racing club. "Hottest power couple on the track! Total eye candy." The attached video showed Chloe and Tyler tearing down the strip in a sports car. Chloe sat in the passenger seat, her shrieking laughter blending with the roar of the engine. They crossed the finish line in first place, and the crowd erupted in cheers. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Everyone was egging them on. Chloe’s cheeks flushed crimson. Tyler flashed a crooked, cocky grin. "Well? Do I get my victory kiss or what?" Chloe acted shy, playfully swatting his chest. "Ugh, stop it! You're terrible." Tyler chuckled with adoration, took her chin in his fingers, and pulled her into a deep kiss. The surrounding cheers exploded. So that was where she was. With Tyler again. Chloe had fallen into a frozen lake when they were kids, and Tyler had jumped in to save her. Chloe made it out unscathed, but Tyler supposedly ended up with chronic joint damage, complaining that his knees ached whenever the weather turned cold. Because of that, Chloe let him get away with anything. On my last birthday, Chloe had promised to have a quiet dinner with me. Tyler called with a minor issue, and she walked out of the restaurant, leaving me sitting there alone. I had swallowed all of it back then. After all, he had saved her life. Two weeks ago, I told Chloe that my mother's critical surgery was scheduled for today, and I asked her to stay with me at the hospital. This could very well be the last time I ever saw my mother alive. Yet, Chloe broke her promise anyway. A sharp, suffocating pain pierced my chest. Had she ever actually treated me like her boyfriend? I watched the video of them kissing on loop until the pain turned completely numb. I waited from noon into the dead of night before the surgeon finally stepped out, looking at me with heavy pity. "I’m so sorry for your loss." I froze for a second, then crumpled, sobbing uncontrollably. From this moment on, I had no mother left in this world. I swallowed my tears and handled all the paperwork. It was past midnight when I finally got back to our apartment. The place was pitch black. A pile of dirty dishes sat in the sink from the day before; running back and forth to care for my mom had left me with no time or energy to clean. Exhaustion crushed down on me. I lit a cigarette, staring into the smoke as memories flashed through my mind. I never smoked inside the house before because Chloe hated the smell. I pulled off our couple's ring and sent Chloe a text: "We're done. Let's break up." Chloe, I gave you chances. This time, I'm truly letting you go.Chloe was sweet, just like her name—sweet-looking and with a voice as sugary as honey. The first time I saw her on campus, she stole my heart. I was a year ahead of her in college, her upperclassman mentor. After we met, she constantly came to me asking for study tips and academic help. I grew up poor, so I poured my soul into academics, achieving top marks in our department. Whenever I finished helping her with an assignment, she would look up at me with wide, sparkling eyes: "Austin, you're amazing." She claimed she was a sapiosexual, drawn only to smart, capable men. I fell hard for her, but I didn't dare confess. My father had died when I was young, leaving me and my mom to depend on each other. I worked myself to the bone to earn a full scholarship and get to where I was, yet there was still an insurmountable chasm between Chloe and me. Her father was a renowned biology professor, and her mother owned a high-end luxury spa. One of her designer handbags cost more than my living expenses for an entire year. Countless wealthy guys were chasing her; I felt I had zero chance. Yet Chloe began clinging to me more and more. She would even pout and play cute without realizing it. "Austin, if I solve this practice problem, will you buy me an iced boba?" I would keep a calm face, but my heart had already melted into a puddle. The turning point came when I was helping her edit her senior paper at a local café. Chloe accidentally grabbed my cup and drank from it, only realizing it after she swallowed. Her face instantly turned bright red, nervously peeking at my expression. Seeing that I didn't mind, she suddenly gathered all her courage and blurted out, "Austin, go out with me!" She was so flustered that she didn't realize she had shouted, turning every head in the café our way. It felt as if fireworks were detonating inside my chest. In sheer disbelief, I said yes before my brain could even process it. Back then, I naively thought Chloe and I would last forever. Until Tyler kept barging into our lives. He wasn't a student at our university; he went to a nearby trade school. Whenever Chloe and I went out on a date, he would shamelessly sit right next to her, demanding that she buy him drinks and food. And Chloe indulged him every single time. Later, when we moved in together after graduation, Tyler would crash at our apartment for days. Whenever he wanted the latest iPad or phone, Chloe whipped out her card without hesitation. I held my tongue once or twice, but eventually, I reached my breaking point and confronted her. Chloe only defended him, saying Tyler was her savior and that I needed to be more understanding. "Babe, there's nothing romantic between us! He saved my life. I can't just turn my back on him." Hearing her call me babe with that pleading puppy-dog look, I backed down. I only warned her that gratitude needed boundaries; otherwise, it would only feed his entitlement. She gave me lip service, nodding along, but she never took a word to heart. Every time, she coaxed me into swallowing my pride. I was soft-hearted. Chloe was my first love. When Tyler wasn't around, she was sweet and attentive, constantly whispering that she loved me, teasing me until my ears turned red. A mix of affection and patience kept me holding on until today. Looking at the last photo of me and my mom on my phone, and then thinking of Chloe out partying and kissing another man, I couldn't endure it any longer. Maybe this relationship had been a mistake from the start. As long as Tyler was between us, we had no future. Right then, my phone buzzed with a text from Chloe: "I just went out for a little fun with friends. Do you really need to be this dramatic and dump me over it?" I had no desire to be swayed by her words ever again. I deleted our photos, blocked her number, and decided to start a brand-new life.With my strong academic background and solid skillset, I landed a high-paying corporate job in no time. I found my own studio apartment, and everything finally started looking up. During that period, Chloe tried calling me repeatedly from different numbers, but I rejected every single one. I had moved on; there was no point in looking back. Before long, my hard work paid off, and I was promoted to work directly alongside the company’s CEO. Our CEO, Victoria Vance, was twenty-eight. Word around the office was that she had taken over her family’s conglomerate with ruthless efficiency, boasting a spotless résumé and an iron fist. Unlike Chloe, Victoria exuded the poise of a mature, powerful woman. She was decisive, sharp, and took zero bullshit. Yet, even the toughest woman couldn’t withstand business drinking dinners. Corporate networking was cutthroat; deals were signed over drinks. Even though I took most of the shots for Victoria, she still ended up tipsy by the end of the night. In the back of the town car, I wrapped an ice pack in a towel, handed it to her, and gently began massaging her temples. It was pure muscle memory from years of looking after Chloe. Victoria peered at me through hazy, hooded eyes, her gaze carrying an intoxicating allure. I looked away politely, but Victoria suddenly reached out and caught my wrist. "What do you think... want to marry me?" I frowned slightly and pulled my hand back. "Ms. Vance, you've had too much to drink." Victoria looked at me steadily. "I'm sober enough. I'm serious. I need a husband." I didn't want to be someone's mere "need" anymore. I wanted someone who loved me. A loveless marriage was the last thing I desired. I didn't answer. A few minutes later, Victoria drifted off to sleep. After walking her into her penthouse, I was just about to leave when she rolled off the bed, tumbling onto the hardwood floor. I couldn't just leave her like that. Sighing, I turned back and scooped her into my arms to put her back on the mattress. Victoria clung to my lapels. "Am I not good enough? Why won't you marry me?" To be completely fair, Victoria was breathtaking and accomplished. Her commanding presence in boardrooms had certainly captivated me more than once. Still, marriage wasn't a game. I wouldn't agree carelessly. "You're amazing. It's just my own issue." A soft kiss fluttered against the back of my hand, making me freeze. Victoria whispered, "Think about it. Have the driver take you home." Strange. My heart was pounding faster than it had in a very long time. I headed downstairs and had the company driver drop me off at my apartment. The next day at work, being around Victoria felt awkward, and I deliberately avoided her eyes. She carried on with business as usual, saying nothing of the night before. That was until an uninvited guest stormed into our open-plan office. Tyler. "Austin Miller! Get your ass out here! Where are you hiding?" Every head in the department snapped toward him. Fate might have shortchanged Tyler in the brain department, but he did possess a conventionally handsome face. I walked out of my cubicle. The second Tyler spotted me, he sneered. "You shameless home-wrecker! Stealing another guy's girl and strutting around like you're proud of it, huh?" Tyler had somehow tracked down my workplace. Whispers immediately broke out among my coworkers. "Home-wrecker? If anyone's a side-piece, it's you," I fired back coldly. Tyler came prepared. He pulled out a stack of flyers and began tossing them onto desks. The flyers featured photos of Tyler and Chloe kissing, along with a sob story claiming they were childhood sweethearts. It accused me of wedging myself between them during college, accompanied by screenshots of arguments between Chloe and me. Taken out of context, the texts made me look like an obsessive simp, while Chloe appeared cold and uninterested. I had deleted our old photos when we broke up, which left me with nothing on hand to instantly disprove his narrative. "See that, everyone? Proof right there! He clung to my girlfriend like a leech. Total scumbag! Watch your backs around this guy, or he might try to steal your girls next!" Coworkers started pointing fingers and muttering. "I never would've guessed. He looks so upright, but he's actually a homewrecker?" "Wait, is this real? Austin's always been such a nice guy." "Dude, there's literally a photo of the couple kissing right there! How could it be fake? Austin definitely stepped in!" "Note to self: keep my girlfriend far away from him."