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Leaving a Cheating Fiancé Novel Cover

Leaving a Cheating Fiancé

The marble floors of the city registry office gleamed under fluorescent lights as I approached the reception desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. Ten years. Ten years of waiting, planning, dreaming of this moment when Hudson and I would finally make it official. "I'm here for the Bishop-Riley appointment," I told the clerk, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. The woman's fingers clicked across her keyboard, her brow furrowing. "I'm sorry, miss, but I show a divorce consultation appointment under those names, not a marriage registration." The world tilted. "That's impossible. We scheduled this months ago." She turned her monitor toward me, and there it was—our appointment slot, changed from marriage registration to divorce filing consultation. My eyes locked onto the signature at the bottom of the change request form: *Fallon Davis*. Ninety-nine times.
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Chapter 3

The Bishop family business dinner was held at the Metropolitan Club, its mahogany-paneled walls and crystal chandeliers creating an atmosphere of old-world power and prestige. I sat beside Hudson at the long table, my engagement ring catching the light as I reached for my wine glass. Ten years of attending these dinners, and I still felt the weight of expectation from every Bishop family member present.

Grandfather Bishop commanded attention from the head of the table, his weathered hands gesturing as he discussed quarterly projections. Mrs. Bishop smiled warmly at me from across the table, her eyes holding a motherly affection that had grown over the years. Even Silas was present tonight, his quiet presence a steady contrast to Hudson's restless energy beside me.

"The Singapore expansion is moving ahead of schedule," Hudson announced, his voice carrying the confidence that had first attracted me to him years ago. "Thanks to some exceptional work from my team."

He turned toward Fallon, who sat three seats down from me, her blonde hair swept into an elegant updo that made her look like she belonged at this table of power brokers. "Particularly Fallon's dedication and intelligence. Her insights into the Asian market have been invaluable."

Fallon blushed prettily, her eyes downcast in feigned modesty. "Oh, Hudson, you're too kind. I just want to contribute however I can."

The praise flowed like honey, each word a small cut. Hudson's eyes lit up when he looked at her, an animation I hadn't seen directed toward me in months. I might as well have been invisible, a piece of furniture positioned beside him for appearance's sake.

"Actually," I interjected, setting down my wine glass with deliberate care, "I've been researching the regulatory challenges in Singapore's financial sector. There are some compliance issues that could impact our timeline—"

"Elliot." Hudson's voice cut through mine like a blade. "I think we should hear from someone with actual experience in international markets." He turned back to Fallon with that same warm smile. "Fallon, what's your take on the regulatory landscape?"

The conversation continued around me as if I'd never spoken. Fallon launched into a detailed analysis that sounded suspiciously like the research I'd been conducting for weeks, the research Hudson had dismissed as "unnecessary worry." Now those same concerns were brilliant insights when they came from her lips.

I excused myself before dessert, my cheeks burning with humiliation. The ladies' room provided temporary refuge, but I couldn't hide forever. When I returned to the table, the sight that greeted me made my blood freeze.

Fallon was wearing my engagement ring.

The three-carat diamond caught the chandelier light as she gestured while speaking, the platinum band that Hudson had placed on my finger two years ago now adorning hers. She noticed my stare and looked down at her hand with practiced surprise.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped, her voice carrying just the right note of innocent confusion. "I found this on Hudson's desk earlier and was keeping it safe. I completely forgot I was wearing it."

She tugged at the ring, her brow furrowing with apparent distress. "It seems to be stuck. I'm so sorry, Elliot. I was just trying to help."

Hudson immediately leaned toward her, his attention completely focused on her predicament. "Here, let me help." His hands covered hers, gentle and careful as he worked to remove the ring. "Just relax your finger. There we go."

I watched my fiancé's tender ministrations, the way he cradled Fallon's hand like something precious. The intimacy of the moment—his bent head, her grateful smile, the soft murmur of his voice as he soothed her embarrassment—felt more obscene than if I'd caught them in bed together.

The ring finally came free, and Hudson held it out to me with a casual smile. "There you go. Crisis averted."

I took the ring with numb fingers, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Mrs. Bishop's expression held sympathy and something that looked like disappointment—not in me, but in her son. Grandfather Bishop's weathered face was unreadable, but his sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Excuse me," I whispered, clutching the ring so tightly the setting cut into my palm. "I need some air."

I fled the dining room, my heels clicking against marble floors as I made my way to the club's entrance. The cool night air hit my face like a slap, but it wasn't enough to clear the fog of humiliation clouding my thoughts.

My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the number I'd never thought I'd call. Silas Bishop. Hudson's uncle. The man who'd always treated me with genuine respect and kindness, even when his nephew took me for granted.

The phone rang twice before his warm voice answered. "Elliot? Is everything all right?"

Tears I'd been holding back all evening finally spilled over. "Silas, I... I need someone to talk to. Are you still at the club?"

"I left a few minutes ago, but I can meet you wherever you need me to be." His voice held immediate concern, no questions asked, no hesitation. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside the Metropolitan Club. I just... I can't go back in there."

"I'll be right there. Don't move."

The line went dead, and I sank onto a stone bench, my engagement ring rolling between my fingers like a talisman that had lost all its power.

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