Abandoned In Paris For His Friend

I spent five years running the business operations for Clarissa Miller after we got married. For the first time, she took me on a vacation to Paris.

But when my chronic stomach issues flared up, she abandoned me in a foreign city.

She left because her childhood friend called, claiming he had accidentally slipped in the shower.

I collapsed on the street from the agonizing pain. Meanwhile, I saw a new post on the couple's account they shared.

The caption read, "The one who loves you will always find their way back to you, no matter the distance."

In the video, Clarissa, who usually hates germs, was kneeling patiently in front of the man.

She was gently cleaning a small scratch on his foot. He looked down at her, stroking her face with a blissful smile.

Later, after I was discharged, I spent seven days exploring Paris on my own.

Clarissa, who hadn't reached out for weeks, suddenly started calling me like she had lost her mind.

"Lukas Brooks, why aren't you looking after me anymore?"

After returning from Paris, I finally picked up the thirty-second call Clarissa made to me.

Her impatient voice immediately barked through the phone. "Where have you been? Why haven't you been home the past few days?"

Faced with her aggressive interrogation, I didn't even feel like answering.

I simply sent her a pin of my current location.

It didn't take long for her figure to appear at the airport entrance.

She walked toward me with a dark face and snatched my suitcase with force.

"I thought you died abroad," she said sarcastically. "You didn't even bother to send a single text."

She reached for the car door, but the passenger side opened from the inside first.

Asher Sterling waved at me with a smirk, a new cashmere blanket I had recently bought draped over his legs.

The heavy scent of his cologne hit me instantly.

I frowned, standing by the door as I met Clarissa's eyes with clear displeasure.

Seeing me stand there, she said with a hint of guilt, "Asher's leg still hasn't healed from the fall. Just sit in the back for now."

A flash of triumph crossed Asher's face.

"Mr. Brooks, I just got out of the hospital and my leg is still weak. Sorry to make you take the backseat."

I gave a half-hearted hum, pulled out some tissues to cover my nose, and sat in the back to rest.

I used to believe that the passenger seat was my exclusive spot.

I had even decorated it with custom stickers and my favorite blankets.

But that didn't stop Clarissa from making me give it up for Asher over and over again.

Since then, I stopped caring about that seat entirely.

Clarissa and Asher spent the whole drive talking about the fun things they had done recently.

I sat in the back like a complete stranger, unable to get a word in.

She noticed my cold expression in the rearview mirror, and her face stiffened.

She was about to turn around and talk to me when Asher grabbed her wrist.

It perfectly showcased the matching couple's rings they were wearing.

"Clarissa, the video we posted a few days ago has already hit ten million views!" Asher said excitedly.

Then he turned to me. "Lukas, did you see that video? The fans are saying Clarissa and I are a perfect match. Personally, I still think you two look better together."

"I don't know what's wrong with those netizens. Some of them actually went to your page just to leave nasty comments."

I didn't even lift my eyelids at his obvious manipulation.

Asher turned away with a hurt look, staring at Clarissa with watery eyes.

He looked so pathetic, as if he were about to burst into tears.

"Clarissa, is Lukas mad at me because I've been taking up all your time lately?"

Clarissa couldn't stand to see him so upset. The anger she had been suppressing finally exploded.

She slammed on the brakes by the side of the road and stormed to the back.

She pulled the door open and dragged me out of the car.

"Lukas Brooks, you've been acting like a corpse all day. Have I given you too much slack?"

I stumbled and fell onto the pavement. Sharp pain immediately shot through my palms and knees.

Clarissa's expression tightened when she saw my pained face.

She started to reach out to help me up.

Suddenly, Asher's voice rang out from the car. "Clarissa, hurry! My leg hurts so much!"

Without a second thought, she turned around, leaving me on the ground.

She hopped into the car and rolled down the window.

"I'm taking Asher to the clinic. Take an Uber home yourself."

I lay on the ground in pain, watching the car disappear into the distance.

Tears blurred my vision. I let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and tossed it into the dark river nearby.

In that moment, I felt a strange sense of peace.

I had waited seven years for her to truly love me back.

Instead, I watched her choose someone else with absolute certainty, time after time.

This time, I was done waiting.

The ground was muddy from the rain. I managed to call a car and got home looking like a mess.

Perhaps Clarissa realized my reaction was unusual this time.

She sent a few texts to apologize. "I'm sorry, Lukas. I was too impulsive on the road earlier."

"Don't be mad. I'll cook something special for you tonight, okay?"

I sneered and typed back a few words.

"I assume Asher is coming over tonight, right?"

I knew Clarissa's routine for 'making it up to me' by heart.

She would cook a few dishes after a fight to appease me.

But the moment I started to feel hopeful about her gesture, Asher would always show up.

I doubted this time would be any different.

Clarissa didn't reply to my text. I didn't care enough to check again.

After a quick cleanup, I went to my room to lie down.

As soon as I opened my phone, a notification for a livestream by Clarissa and Asher popped up.

I clicked on it and saw them sitting together on a hospital bed.

They were leaning into each other, reading comments from their fans.

Asher happened to read a comment asking if they ever got bored of each other after being together so long.

He looked at Clarissa with a soft, lingering smile.

Clarissa immediately spoke up. "When you truly love someone, you never get bored of them."

They locked eyes, their hands gripping each other tightly as the tension between them thickened.

Even Clarissa's breathing seemed to grow heavier.

I laughed mockingly as I watched their performance on the screen.

Since Clarissa asked me to manage her social media career, I had endured their lack of boundaries.

Every time I confronted her about it, she would look at me as if I were the crazy one.

"He's just my business partner. Why can't you trust me?" she would say.

"Besides, we're only doing this for the engagement and the money. It's all fake."

I used to be silenced by those words.

As her manager, I knew better than anyone that drama sold.

So I stayed quiet and swallowed my pride. That's how they achieved the success they had today.

The comments in the livestream were getting more aggressive. Some people even started attacking me.

"When is Clarissa finally going to fire that creepy manager? What if he harasses her again?"

After that comment appeared, the rest of the viewers joined in the insults.

I froze, staring at the screen in disbelief.

They told me recently that their traffic was dipping and they needed to use my reputation for a 'stunt.'

I didn't realize the stunt was painting me as a stalker who harassed Clarissa.

I was so angry I started laughing. I couldn't help but post a comment.

"Word on the street is Clarissa has been married to a private citizen for seven years. Is that true or false?"

I watched Clarissa's calm, sweet face instantly shift.

Her expression turned bizarre the moment she saw my comment.

She whispered something to Asher and abruptly ended the stream.

I smirked and exited the app, then clicked on a specific profile.

The day before I left Paris, a local who had saved me from my medical emergency learned about my professional background.

He offered me a job.

He was a famous vlogger named George, and he wanted me to manage his international accounts.

He had given me a week to think about it.

I realized later that he was actually the food vlogger I had admired for a long time.

I was going to wait until the fifth day to reply, but now there was no need to wait.

I sent him a message saying I would be in Paris to start next week.

He sent back several voice notes, sounding thrilled to have me on board.

For the first time in a long while, my mood actually lifted.

Clarissa didn't come home until well past midnight.

I figured she spent the night dealing with the PR nightmare I created.

To my surprise, I saw her in the living room the next morning.

She was sitting on the sofa, her brows furrowed with exhaustion.

When she saw me get up, she marched over to confront me.

"Do you have anything you want to say to me and Asher?"

I glanced at her casually and walked past her to the dining room.

"About what?" I asked indifferently.

Clarissa's face darkened instantly. I ignored her.

She pulled out her phone and showed me a screenshot of the comments from last night.

She threw the phone at me, and it hit the back of my hand with a sharp crack.

"Look at what you did!"

"Do you have any idea how much money and how many followers we lost because of that one comment?"

"Now everyone is asking if the rumors are true. If our career tanks, can you take responsibility for that?"

I winced at the pain in my hand, but she didn't care. She just kept screaming.

I looked at the phone. My comment was pinned right in the center of the screen.

Every single fan must have seen it.

I let out a short laugh and looked at her. "Clarissa, I've managed and promoted this account since day one. Have you ever paid me a single paycheck?"

I ignored her stunned expression and let out all the bitterness I'd kept inside.

In our second year of marriage, I quit my stable job because of one request from her.

I spent my nights and days editing their videos and managing their growth.

Only I knew how grueling that work was.

When the first big payment came in, I didn't see a cent of it.

I asked her about it, feeling hurt.

She just sweet-talked me. "We're a married couple. Why are we talking about money like strangers?"

"I'm keeping your salary in a savings account for our future."

I fell for it because I trusted her.

I even thought she was being sensible.

Now I realized that in her eyes, I was just a clown providing free labor.

Clarissa saw the coldness in my eyes and her anger turned into a stiff, awkward defense.

"Who said I never paid you? I've been keeping it safe for you!"

"Lukas Brooks, are you trying to quit? How dare you talk back to me like this?"

I stood up, tired of her voice.

She noticed my bare hand and froze for a second.

"Lukas, where is your wedding ring? Why aren't you wearing it?"

I was about to tell her I threw it away and that anyone could have my job.

But then, her phone rang.

She picked it up, and that familiar male voice leaked through the speaker.

"You must be exhausted after everything last night. That old man at your house probably can't even cook. I feel so bad for you."

"I made some soup before you left this morning. Why don't you come over and have a bowl, you little glutton?"

I watched Clarissa's lips curl into a quick, happy smile.

She grabbed her bag and started heading for the door.

"I've been craving your soup," she said into the phone. "I'll be there in ten minutes!"

I stood there, watching her back as she walked away from me again.

My heart was too numb to even feel the sting anymore.

Since she chose someone else again, I decided to let go.

I booked my flight for tomorrow.

Tonight would likely be the last dinner I ever had with Clarissa.

The reason she felt so entitled to withhold my pay all these years was that we never signed an official contract.

It made things easier for me now. I didn't even have to go to her office to resign.

After booking the ticket, I checked the date.

It was our seventh wedding anniversary.

I sent her a text.

"Are you coming home for dinner tonight?"

She replied instantly.

"I'll pick up some groceries."

I stared at those mundane messages.

They were so ordinary, yet they felt like the final moment of peace between us.

I packed my belongings into a few suitcases.

Then, I sat in the study and watched every single video they had posted over the years.

I realized then that they had been crossing lines for a long time.

Clarissa would instinctively lean into his touch in the videos.

Asher would casually rest his hand on her waist.

Every gesture was proof of their intimacy.

I eventually fell into a heavy sleep in the chair.

I was woken up by noise outside. The sun had already set.

I walked to the study door but didn't open it yet.

I heard heavy, intimate breathing coming from the living room.

The sound of rustling clothes followed.

Clarissa's voice sounded shy and breathless. "Stop it, my husband is still home."

Asher chuckled. "That makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"

Clarissa let out a muffled squeal, and then it went quiet.

I stood behind the door, my fists clenching and then slowly relaxing.

We were getting divorced anyway. If I pretended not to know, it wouldn't hurt as much.

Once they were finished, I walked out of the study.

Clarissa's face was still flushed, and Asher gave me a provocative wave.

I made small talk like I always did, and they went into the kitchen to cook together.

I walked over to where they had been sitting.

I saw the used protection in the trash can.

I looked at it calmly and then turned away.

I sat through that final dinner with Clarissa as if nothing had happened.

While I was doing the dishes afterward, Clarissa came over.

She sounded a bit guilty. "I'm sorry, honey. Asher's leg is still bothering him. I didn't want him to get hurt again and ruin our filming schedule, so I brought him here."

I replied flatly, "It's fine. Tell him to make himself at home."

Her eyes lit up with relief. "Lukas, you aren't mad?"

"No," I said.

"I promise, once his leg is better, I won't bring him around anymore," she said happily.

She had no idea that there wouldn't be a 'later.' I was leaving her for good tomorrow.

Before the sun rose, I left a signed divorce agreement on the table and boarded my flight.

By the time the plane touched down, Clarissa finally realized I was gone.

She started calling me like a maniac.

But it was far too late for her.