I Canceled Our Wedding After That Photo

Today is the day my company goes public. The entire office building is wrapped in a festive atmosphere. Employees wear smiles they cannot hide, and even the air is thick with the sweet scent of champagne. Dressed in a tailored suit, I stand before the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city below. A once distant and unattainable goal has finally taken root today. My mobile phone vibrated in my pocket, jolting me from my thoughts. It was an anonymous message, accompanied by a photo. I unlocked the phone, my fingers freezing on the screen. The photo's background was the residential parking lot, dimly lit. The woman at the center of the frame was Wendy Sullivan. My fiancée—the one who had been by my side for ten years. She stood on tiptoe, kissing a man with fierce passion. The man wore the community security guard uniform, his coarse features familiar to me. His name was Vance, a security guard newly assigned to our community not long ago. Blood rushed to my head in an instant, then froze the next moment. The surrounding noise seemed to fall silent, leaving only the pounding of my heart. I clenched my mobile phone, knuckles white, the scene in the photo stabbing into my eyes like a needle. I forced myself to stay calm, but my fingertips trembled uncontrollably. As if compelled by some unseen force, I opened Wendy Sullivan's Moments. She had just posted an update. In the photo, she held a cup of warm milk, a gentle smile gracing her lips. The caption read: "We're going to have a baby—thank you for always being by my side." On the sofa beside her, an arm clad in a security guard's uniform was revealed. That hand was resting on her waist. I abruptly shoved the mobile phone back into my pocket, my chest surging with overwhelming rage and disgust. A decade of love, destroyed in a single day. At the most glorious moment of my life, I was dealt the deadliest blow. I turned and walked toward the office, a cold mask settling over my face once again. The secretary saw the change in my expression, hesitated to speak, but ultimately withdrew quietly. I sat behind my desk and called my assistant. "Cancel my engagement to Wendy Sullivan, immediately." My voice was unnervingly calm. There was a moment of hesitation on the other end, then the assistant replied respectfully, "Understood, Mr. Lowell." "Also, cancel the wedding banquet and all related wedding arrangements." I added. "Notify finance to freeze all bank and credit cards in Wendy Sullivan's name linked to me." With every word, my heart grew colder. Everything I had once willingly sacrificed for her had now become a cruel joke. The assistant jotted it down and then asked if any other arrangements were needed. "No need. I'll call you if anything comes up." I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair. The office was silent, except for the occasional honk of a car outside the window. I closed my eyes, my mind flooded with Wendy Sullivan's face. There was her innocent smile from high school, the way she nestled by my side in college, and the vows she once made. The more beautiful these memories were, the more bitterly ironic the moment became.