You'll Miss Me When I'm DoneChapter 1

My stomach was killing me, but my very own fiancé? Oh, he actually just shoved me right out of his car!

Just 'cause my stomach cramps "interrupted" his sweet little talk with his childhood friend?!

I literally begged him to let me stay! But nope, he couldn't have cared less. That jerk just rolled up his car's window all slow, actually hissing, "Now, shut up!"

I ended up in the hospital with a stomach ulcer. I called him—over 10 times! And he just rejected every single call!

But when I glanced down the hall, turned out, he was just there—my oh-so-caring fiancé, protectively helping his pregnant childhood friend!

"Easy there, Josie, alright? We don't want you falling and hurting your little one..."

Once I recovered and was finally discharged, I headed to the Twilight Summit and stayed there for a week. Just me.

After 10 days of no word from Peter, that jerk started blowing up my phone out of nowhere like he'd lost his mind.

[Dammit, Hailey! Why the hell haven't you been checking up on me lately, huh?!]

——

By the time I picked up his call, I noticed it was nearly the 40th—just after I got back from my trip.

"Well, finally! Where the hell are you? GPS says you're not home!"

And then came the questions, one after another.

I just let him blabber on and on, keeping my cool while walking out of the airport.

When he came to pick me up, he just grabbed my suitcase without saying a thing at first. But that sarcasm on his face just wouldn't shut up.

"Honestly, I thought you were gonna pull a runaway bride. But here you are, dragging your ass back to me after just a few days, huh?"

"Well, look, the wedding's coming up soon, and I've got a lot of things to deal with. So, don't expect me to give a damn about your drama, got it? Just chill out, and don't even think of running off."

Then, he casually pulled out a stick of cigarette right next to me and lit it up in the car.

I quickly wrinkled my nose and turned away, rolling the window down.

As the breeze rushed in, I took a deep breath to steady my voice.

"Let's drop by the wedding design company."

If I remember correctly, the damn invites should be ready by now.

Peter sneered before stomping on the gas and speeding over to the company.

Once we arrived, he wouldn't even come inside—just leaned against the door, smoking, and scrolling through his phone like a flirt.