Marrying My Ex: He Never Stopped Loving Me

Victoria's POV

In the boutique in Las Vegas, the air was thick with the scent of silk and perfume.

I stood before the fitting mirror, the champagne-colored Vera Wang gown hugging my body perfectly, the waistline cinched just right, the lace hem grazing my ankles. This was the dress for tomorrow's engagement party. I'd dragged my fiancé here for one final fitting, hoping to get his opinion.

"Nathaniel, what do you think of this one?" I turned to show him, the skirt flowing gracefully as I spun.

He sat on the couch, eyes glued to his phone, fingers rapidly scrolling across the screen.

"Mmm, looks good."

My smile froze. I walked over and sat beside him. "You didn't even really look. This is the dress for tomorrow's engagement—our engagement. Can't you at least pay attention?"

He finally put his phone down, glanced at me briefly, then looked away. "I've got urgent work stuff to handle. Really don't have time. Whatever you pick looks beautiful—you don't need to ask me."

I gripped the fabric of my skirt, my fingertips digging into the material. Looking into his eyes, I suddenly remembered our first meeting—I had just graduated and was planning to travel with friends when my father slammed a marriage contract on the table, saying the Tesla family wanted to partner with us, and the condition was my engagement to Nathaniel.

"Victoria, the Tesla family wants an alliance through marriage. I've already agreed."

"I just graduated! I don't want to marry someone I don't even know!" I had fought with my father then, but he was adamant, saying the company was on the verge of bankruptcy and only this marriage could save us.

His business needed me—his only daughter—to survive, or I'd be branded as unfilial.

When I first met Nathaniel, he was formally dressed, didn't talk much, and seemed equally unenthusiastic about the arranged marriage. But as we spent more time together, he remembered I took two sugars in my coffee. When I worked late, he'd order takeout and have it delivered to my office building. When I told him about wanting to be an illustrator in college, he didn't laugh at my impracticality—he just said I could try it someday.

Until that rainy night three months ago, when he walked me home and stood downstairs saying, "Victoria, I never believed in love before. You changed my mind."

The rain kept falling, his hair was soaked, but he still stood there with me. He explained that the Tesla family required this marriage because his father was ill, and the old man wanted to see him settled before passing away. The alliance would also help stabilize the Tesla family through my family's status.

"Honestly, I was against it at first," he said, looking at me. "I didn't want my marriage arranged, and I definitely didn't want to marry a stranger."

My heart was racing then.

"But spending this time with you, I realized I genuinely like you. Not because of our families, not because of business interests—I just genuinely like you as a person."

That night I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. I thought I'd actually found real love in an arranged marriage, thought those romance novel scenarios could actually happen to me.

"Nathaniel," I tried to suppress my growing unease, "you've been distracted all week. Are you hiding something from me?"

His phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen and quickly declined the call.

"No, just work stuff. I'm a bit busy."

I didn't press further, but the unease in my chest kept growing.

"Let's go. We still need to prepare for tomorrow's engagement party." He stood up, grabbed his jacket from the chair, and headed for the door.

On the drive home, the luxury car was silent. I tried to make conversation.

"Remember last month when you took me to see the sunrise in the desert? You said you wanted to show me the most beautiful sight in the world..."

"I remember." His response was brief as he continued looking at his phone.

"There will be a lot of media tomorrow. I'm a bit nervous..."

"Just follow the script. Don't mess up." His voice was cold, nothing like the person who used to comfort me with "don't worry, I'm here."

Back at the apartment, Nathaniel went straight to the bathroom. I sat on the bed, listening to the running water, my gaze falling on his phone on the nightstand. I'd never thought about checking his phone before, but his strange behavior today made me unable to resist.

The sound of the shower echoed from the bathroom as I stared at his phone on the nightstand.

The water was still running. I reached for the phone and entered my birthday—the passcode he'd set before, saying that way he'd think of me every time he unlocked it.

The screen lit up. At the top of the chat list was an unsaved number, the latest message sent ten minutes ago: "Tomorrow's the engagement party. When are you going to tell her?"

I tapped on the conversation, my fingers starting to tremble.

Three months ago: "Meet me at the usual place tonight. Don't let her find out."

Two months ago: "You understand me better than Victoria does. She's too naive—always asking questions even when I'm just discussing business."

One month ago: "I'm going to New York for 'business' next week. Move into my apartment while I'm gone so she won't get suspicious."

I remembered a month ago when he said he was going to New York for business. He'd held me for a long time before leaving, saying he'd focus on preparing for the engagement party when he returned. Turns out his so-called business trip was to see this person.

The screen suddenly showed a new message from the same number, with a photo attached: "I'm pregnant. If you don't break up with her, I'll go to the media and let everyone know about the Tesla family heir's affairs."

In the photo, a woman was half-naked, leaning against a headboard, with Nathaniel's arm around her waist. The background was a hotel I recognized—the same one he'd stayed at in New York. Below was a video. I clicked on it and saw him drunkenly on top of that woman, their voices intimate and disgusting.

I couldn't watch anymore. My stomach churned.

I opened the keyboard, my finger hovering over the keys, wanting to type "you shameless bitch" or "go to hell, both of you." But in the end, I sent nothing. I just stared at the screen as tears blurred my vision. The send button remained empty, and my heart was already shattered.

I forwarded the photo and video to my own phone, deleted the forwarding record, and put his phone back where I found it. The shower stopped. I quickly wiped my tears and pretended nothing had happened.

Nathaniel came out toweling his hair, saw me sitting on the bed, and asked, "Why aren't you sleeping yet?"

"I'm a bit excited. Tomorrow's our engagement party." I forced a smile.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day." He pulled back the covers and lay down with his back to me. Soon I could hear his steady breathing.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open. The person beside me was physically close but felt like a complete stranger. He'd promised to protect me, said I was the most innocent girl he'd ever met. It was all lies.