Framed by My Fiancé, I Walked Away a Billionaire

1: 1

On the day of our engagement, I stumbled across a post from someone mocked as a cheated-on partner, and something made me click into it.

My fiance got groped by her designated driver while she was drunk. She has no idea. Should I tell her or keep it from her?

The comments were unanimous: keep it from her, for her own good.

A long while later, he replied.

"But it's been eating at me ever since. As a man, the one thing you care about most is your partner's purity."

It made me sick. Without thinking twice, I fired back in the comments.

"Calling a victim's experience a loss of virtue? That's pretty dehumanizing to your girlfriend."

"If you've got any spine, just say it to her face. She probably won't be grateful for your holier-than-thou pity anyway."

He replied to everyone in the thread. Everyone but me.

That evening I brought it up with my boyfriend, Nelson Finley.

I asked, "You don't actually think that kind of charity counts as love, do you?"

His back stiffened.

"People think differently. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

I sulked for a long time, and the man who loved me to my bones didn't come to smooth things over. First time ever.

The next day I went to pick him up from work like always, thinking I'd patch things up.

Instead I walked in on him kissing a company intern, the two of them unable to pull apart.

When he caught the tremble in my eyes, he stayed calm, like a bystander watching someone else's mess.

"Why would you do this to me?"

He raised his phone. That very post filled the screen.

"You told me to come clean. You said you looked down on my pity. Well, I dared to come clean. What about you?"

"Once you find out you're the one who got violated, do you still have the nerve to talk back?"

The color drained from my face. So the disgust in his eyes that night, after I'd sobered up, hadn't been my imagination after all.

But he'd forgotten. I don't accept pity, and I don't want to argue.

So I chose to let go.

The night wind slapped against my ears in waves, my vision blurred past the point of seeing.

I never imagined that the post I'd wandered into on a whim, just to join the noise.

The female lead a thousand people were dissecting, mocking, pitying, was me.

And that fact got laid bare, raw and naked, by the cheating boyfriend of eight years, right there in the middle of catching him in the act.

A dense, prickling sting rose in the bridge of my nose.

I held it back, again and again, and didn't cry.

"So this was your revenge? Cheating on me right in front of my face, right after we got engaged?"

The corner of Nelson's mouth curled into a sneer.

"I actually felt sorry for you. As long as you behaved, I was willing to lower myself and take you back anyway."

"But you had to go on thinking you were pure as snow. So don't blame me for not sparing your dignity."

Watching Nelson shield her so tightly, the three of us stood off against each other like we were separated by a galaxy.

My throat felt clogged with a grievance I couldn't put into words.

I opened my mouth to defend myself.

"I didn't know... I didn't know about any of that..."

Nelson raised an eyebrow and played a video.

On the screen, I was sprawled across the back seat, dead to the world, my face flushed red.

My collar hung open, and the designated driver had long since vanished without a trace.

As Nelson called out to me over and over, I lifted my head, and the faint red marks scattered across my neck came into view.

The Nelson in the video was panicking, and outside the screen, I had nothing to say.

"Now you believe it, right? If I hadn't gotten there in time that night, it doesn't take much to imagine what would've happened to you."

What broke my heart worse than the video.

Was that there was no ache in the man's eyes. Only disgust.

As if I'd already turned into a piece of filthy garbage.

Nelson put the phone away and swept his eyes over me, up and down.

Sally Donaldson, tucked against him, panicked and stepped on the hem of her own dress.

Nelson bent down at once to comfort her, brushing her hem clean.

"It's fine. I'll buy you a new one in a bit."

Then he looked at me again, and the meaning behind it was unmistakable.

"Anything dirty, I've never been able to stand having in my sight."

With that, he pulled the girl into the Maybach and left nothing behind but a trail of exhaust.

Through my blurred vision, the post updated again.

Finally came clean with her. The weight on my chest is finally gone. No more pretending.

My nose stung, and at last I broke down sobbing.

I don't know what I did wrong.

Because of one drunken night, I'd lost my so-called 'purity.'

And I'd lost the Nelson who once loved me more than anything.

I made it home in a daze.

Looking at the proposal setup Nelson had arranged so carefully the day before.

The festive confetti lay scattered in sad little clumps across the floor.

Yesterday's happiness struck me across the face like some cruel joke.

Aching, I picked up the picture book he'd hired someone to draw, the story of how the two of us met, got to know each other, understood each other.

It recorded the past eight years of us.

I turned to the last page, the one that had held the ring, where there was a photo of us from long ago under the cherry blossoms.

We were both laughing, wide-eyed and innocent. I flipped it over, and on the back Nelson had written something.

Why did it have to be you. I feel so filthy, so filthy!

Every word dripped with hatred.

The smile that had lifted on my lips froze in an instant, and the tears nearly spilled over.

Just how deep did the trauma of that night cut into Nelson, for it to keep gnawing at him like this?

Was what happened that day even real?

I had to find out.

I wanted to tell Nelson what I'd decided. If it was true, I'd leave quietly on my own and never cling to him again.

And I'd bring that designated driver to justice.

But if it was false, then why wouldn't he believe me? Why was he so eager to slap a "slut" label on me?

The message had barely gone through when a red exclamation point burned red into my eyes.

I opened Nelson's profile background. The photo of the two of us with fingers laced together was already gone.

In its place was a playful shot of Sally in profile, mid-meal.

Just how worthless was I in his heart, that in a single night he could cast me down into the deepest pit there was.

I let out a bitter laugh, slid the ring off, and set it on the last page of that picture book.

Since his heart was no longer here, there was no reason for me to hold on.

2: 2

Packing up my things, it hit me only then how many years we'd been together.

All my belongings, scattered and few, came to just two suitcases.

For so long my whole life had revolved around Nelson, and somewhere in it I'd lost myself.

After I hauled the suitcases out, my friend Shirley Stewart kindly offered to let me stay at her place for a while.

When she heard why I was moving out, her eyes went wide in disbelief.

"You're saying Nelson decided you got assaulted that night?"

I stirred the juice she'd made for me and nodded.

"That's why I want to find out whether it actually happened."

Shirley gripped my hand, and the warmth of it steadied me.

"I'll do everything I can to help. Don't worry, Madeline. You've still got me."

My eyes went hot. In this moment, betrayed by the person I loved most,

I still had a friend standing firmly beside me.

The first thing was to track down that car. That day had been a reunion with my college classmates, mine and Nelson's.

He'd said he was busy with meetings.

So I went alone, and everyone was warm toward me.

I could feel it was because Nelson's career had shot upward, and they were all flattering me, the future "Mrs. Finley."

I heard too many pretty words, and it went to my head.

One glass after another, until they drank me under the table and I blacked out.

The last thing I remembered was Byron Winters, who'd been close with Nelson back in college.

He'd insisted on getting me home.

But by the time we reached the parking garage, the others had already thrown up or passed out.

He apologized and put me in the car, saying he'd call a designated driver to take me home.

He called one, and after that, I couldn't remember a thing.

The dashcam in Byron's car had to hold something important.

I went to message him, only to realize I didn't even have his number.

Before I got together with Nelson, I'd been well-liked once, an ambitious young woman going somewhere.

But after we got together, little by little I orbited only him, and gave up everything I'd fought to build.

My old friends drifted off one by one, and we went our separate ways.

Nelson climbed, step by step, until he landed the vice president's seat.

I sighed. Maybe I was sighing for all the years, all the youth I'd given up.

Eight years wasted, mine and Nelson's.

Then I remembered Byron bragging at dinner that Nelson had outsourced a multimillion-dollar project to him, and that the contract was being signed right about now.

I got up at once and rushed to Nelson's company. The moment I reached his office door, I was stopped.

I looked up, not understanding, at the young receptionist blocking my way, and heard Nelson and Byron joking together inside.

3: 3

"Nice work last time. Now she doesn't have the nerve to make noise in front of me anymore."

"Come on, Nelson, listen to yourself. Women don't behave unless you teach them. So Madeline's finally too scared to say a word?"

Nelson laughed, low and sure of himself.

"Yeah. Hasn't dared come near me all day. Probably still at home crying. That's fine by me. Means she won't be nagging me about every little thing later."

Byron sounded a little surprised.

"You still planning to marry her? I thought you'd already made up your mind about your little intern."

"You don't get it. Someone's got to keep the house running. Sally stays on the outside, always ready to please me. A wife plus a mistress on the side. Works out pretty well."

He said it like a man laying out a strategy, and half the warmth in me went cold.

So in his head, I was nothing but the worn-out stay-at-home wife he'd stash at home.

Handling everything for him so he could stay comfortable while he chased whatever caught his eye out there.

My hands curled into fists without my meaning them to, ten fingers clenched white.

What he didn't know was that I'd already decided to leave him. Never again would I obediently play the good, devoted wife he kept locked up at home.

I didn't say anything. I turned and walked away in silence, and had Shirley find Byron's license plate for me.

A moment later, she sent it over.

I searched the garage for a while, and finally spotted that black Range Rover off to the right.

I was working out how to get the dashcam out when Nelson's car came rolling in.

And in the driver's seat, all in a fluster, was Sally Donaldson.

I ducked behind the car fast, and heard her complaining to Nelson without stopping.

"Boo-hoo, my coworkers are all bullying me. So much to buy and they sent me alone! I'm so tired~"

The man seemed to be soothing her softly on the other end of the line, and before long he'd hurried down.

On his face was a doting look I hadn't seen in ages.

"You should've told me sooner, I'd have gone with you. Sweetheart, you wear yourself out?" The girl hugged him tight and nodded hard against him.

I thought back to when Nelson's company was just getting off the ground.

He was out chasing clients, and everything inside the company fell to me to handle alone.

There was a renovation once, and I'd skipped breakfast and my blood sugar dropped.

A loose board came down and knocked me out cold, splitting the back of my head wide open.

They rushed me to the ICU, seven days and seven nights fighting to save me.

And when I opened my eyes, all I saw was the blame in Nelson's eyes.

"The renovation's behind schedule because of you. Is that fair to everyone else who's poured their heart into this company?"

Back then it hurt, but I still told myself he just cared too much about our future and had overlooked me.

Only now do I see he simply didn't care about me at all.

Didn't care what I gave up, didn't care that I got hurt, didn't care about my tears.

Watching the two of them tangled up together, something in me let go.

It's fine, Nelson. I don't care about you anymore either.

Not ready to be done, Nelson lit a cigarette, in a corner he wasn't watching.

The little sparks caught a pile of trash in an instant and spread fast.

I wanted to run, but Nelson's car backing up cut off my way, a wall behind me, tall cargo trucks on either side.

He grabbed Sally and rushed to get out, and all I could do was scream his name with everything I had.

"Save me, Nelson."

He only glanced back at me once, then turned and walked away without a second of hesitation.

My despair died out in his silence and his letting it happen.

Had he come to loathe me so much that he wished I were dead?

In the flames roaring higher and higher, there was no way out.

4: 4

The will to live drove me to keep searching for a way out.

Finally, in a corner, I found a window-breaking hammer and a fire extinguisher.

I smashed his rear window with everything I had, then fought to beat back the flames.

At last I opened a path out.

But my breathing was too ragged, and I had no protection at all.

A second after I stumbled out of the garage, I collapsed unconscious.

Just before my eyes closed, I thought I saw Nelson's frantic figure.

Had he come back to save me?

I laughed at myself for being so unrealistic.

Every bit of him was fixed on Sally.

Why would he ever come back for me?

My strength gone completely, I sank into darkness and shut my eyes.

When I opened them again, the first thing I saw was Shirley's worried face.

I forced out a hoarse whisper and handed her the memory card I'd been clutching so tightly.

I broke the car window with a hammer and pulled out this memory card. Pull up the footage from that day right now and see what actually happened.

Shirley nodded hard and told me to lie still and not move.

The doctor says you have no external injuries, but your lungs took in too much smoke, so they're keeping you for observation. Rest these next few days. I'll handle the whole investigation.

With her here, I nodded and let myself relax.

My phone had no messages. Of course Nelson hadn't thought of me.

I finished drafting the message to call off the engagement, planning to find the right moment to send it to the group chat with both our families.

The elders on both sides were run off their feet over our wedding.

And I didn't have the courage to tell them I'd already decided to leave Nelson.

I had the wording ready and hadn't sent it yet.

Then Nelson knocked on my hospital room door, Sally with him.

There was something awkward on his face as he carried a bag of health supplements to my bedside.

The girl's eyes were red as a rabbit's, and she apologized in a small voice.

I'm sorry, Madeline. Mr. Finley left you behind because he had to save me, so please don't blame him. If you want to blame someone, blame me.

I nodded, unimpressed.

No need. The one he cares about is you, not me. Even if you didn't say it, he still wouldn't see me.

Nelson flared up at once.

Madeline, what's that supposed to mean? Sally lowers herself to apologize to you, and this is your attitude?

I froze for a moment and looked at Sally's face.

Her eyes were plainly full of smugness and provocation.

Innocent, where?

I couldn't be bothered to argue. I just pointed at the door.

Stop coming here to bother me. Whatever's between you two has nothing to do with me. Don't put on this act in front of me.

That set Nelson off completely.

He grabbed my arm and dragged me clean off the bed onto the floor.

Apologize to Sally. Did you hear me!

I lifted my head and glared straight at him.

Never!

His face went as ugly as it could get, and he actually raised his hand to teach me a lesson.

The instant the slap was about to land,

Shirley rushed in and berated him, her voice hard with righteousness.

What gives you the right to hit Maddie? I already have the evidence. You faked the proof that Maddie was assaulted!

Terror shot into Nelson's eyes.

How is that possible?