Three SOS Calls Unanswered: My Fiancé Chose Silence Over My Car Crash on Our Wedding Eve Chapter 2

The excessive emotional suppression made me feel suffocated. Looking at the room full of paintings of him, I screamed out loud. My emotions burst forth at that moment.

I frantically tore down papers and stomped on them, violently ripping apart paintings I had painstakingly created. The floor was a mess as I vented my emotions.

I sat on the floor and wept loudly. Ruined. Everything was ruined.

There was still one painting left. My favorite one, framed on the wall, which I had overlooked. It was the first painting I made when I saw Skyler. My hands trembled as I reached out to touch it, but I felt as if I had been electrocuted.

Tears streaming down my face, I froze in place.

I wasn't as strong as I thought I was.

Three days later, Skyler found me at an art exhibition. He angrily questioned me, his eyes seeming to shoot fire: "Why didn't you participate in the competition? Don't you know you had the best chance of winning? Do you know how important this competition was? Even if you want to throw a tantrum, you should know when and where."

A series of accusations hit my already numb heart.

At that moment, I had so many things I wanted to ask him, but all I could say was: "Oh, congratulations on winning."

Skyler's expression softened a bit: "So you watched the competition. How come I didn't see you there? You left so early without waiting for me."

I hadn't gone. I had guessed. With his skills, winning would have been easy.

I pointed at the paintings around the room and asked softly: "Do you think these paintings are beautiful?"

My eyes were full of pity. This exhibition was probably the last time I would display my past works. I quietly watched the crowd coming and going, occasionally stopping in front of a painting to admire the artist's skill.

One of my paintings was here too.

Skyler rubbed his temples and took my hand.

"Summer, I was a bit busy the past couple days and neglected you. But you know how important this competition was to me. Get dressed up and accompany me to tonight's party."

"I don't have time," I said.

I looked at him calmly: "Skyler, let's break up."

He laughed, as if he had heard a joke: "Break up?"

Then he said gently: "Summer, be good. After tonight is over, I'll spend time with you."

I tilted my head and thought for a moment: "No. We've broken up."

He stepped forward, wanting to hold me in his arms and comfort me like he had countless times before.

But the moment he touched me, I pushed him away and let out a piercing scream.

The whole venue was drawn to the sound of my voice.

The fragile balance I had been maintaining was unexpectedly torn apart.

I crouched down holding my head, violent emotions assaulting my brain again. Resentment, unwillingness, pain, disappointment, despair. All my efforts and pursuits of the first half of my life had turned to bubbles in one night.

But I could have been saved, couldn't I? If only it had been a few hours earlier. If only he had answered the phone. If only he had patiently listened to me finish one sentence.

He froze, standing there dumbfounded, not daring to take another step forward.

"Summer, it's me. It's me. What's wrong?" He looked helpless like a child, cautiously unsure of what had happened.

It took great effort to control my emotions. I slowly walked out of the hall. Skyler chased after me. I turned my back to him and said: "I need some time alone."

Back home, I sat alone in my studio, sometimes wanting to laugh, sometimes wanting to cry.

I thought I was calm, but seeing Skyler brought on an intense feeling of grievance that swept through my whole body.

The room was brightly lit. I had been sleeping with the lights on lately. As soon as it got dark, I couldn't help but think of that pitch-black night. Intense pain swept through my body as I tried to grasp at a lifeline that had sent my art career to its grave.