MY EX INVITED ME TO HIS PARTY JUST TO ANNOUNCE THAT HE WAS MARRYING ANOTHER WOMAN… WITHOUT KNOWING THAT I WAS DYING

MY EX INVITED ME TO HIS PARTY JUST TO ANNOUNCE THAT HE WAS MARRYING ANOTHER WOMAN… WITHOUT KNOWING THAT I WAS DYING

MY EX INVITED ME TO HIS PARTY JUST TO ANNOUNCE THAT HE WAS MARRYING ANOTHER WOMAN… WITHOUT KNOWING THAT I WAS DYING

I was eating spicy noodles when I received a call from my boyfriend, the biggest star in the country.

The spice made me choke, so I answered while gasping for air.

“Wh… what happened, Ethan?”

There was a strange silence on the other end of the line.

Then his voice broke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.”

And he hung up before I could explain anything.

I had no idea what had just happened.

But from that day on, Ethan Cole began distancing himself from me.

He stopped replying to my messages.

He canceled our dates.

When I tried calling him, I discovered that he had blocked me.

That was how a seven-year relationship ended.

Without an argument.

Without a goodbye.

Without an explanation.

Three months later, before beginning his world tour, Ethan personally sent me an invitation to a private party.

I thought maybe he finally wanted to end our story in a civilized way.

I was wrong.

That night, I wore a black dress, carefully applied my makeup, and walked into the hall with my head held high.

Everyone looked at me as if they had seen a ghost.

My former manager, Rachel Bennett, rushed toward me.

“Sophie, what are you doing here?”

“Ethan invited me.”

Rachel’s face turned pale.

She looked like she was about to tell me something, but at that moment, Ethan stood up from the main table.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit.

Beside him stood his personal assistant, Claire Wilson, the woman who had worked with him for more than ten years.

Ethan’s eyes locked onto mine.

“Since Sophie is here, I want to announce something in front of everyone.”

The entire hall fell silent.

Then he took Claire’s hand.

“She has stayed by my side all these years. So I’ve decided to give her the place she deserves.”

He paused briefly.

“I’m going to marry Claire.”

I felt a buzzing sound inside my head.

At that moment, I understood why he had invited me.

He did not want to say goodbye.

He wanted me to watch him choose another woman.

The guests began applauding.

I smiled too.

“Congratulations. Claire has taken care of you for many years. You two are the perfect couple.”

Ethan looked at me with a coldness I had never seen before.

“Of course. She is much more worthy of standing beside me than you are.”

I kept smiling, even though I could no longer feel my fingers.

When the party ended, I watched Ethan wrap his arm around Claire’s waist and walk her to the exit.

I returned home alone.

That night, like so many others, I woke up coughing.

The coughing was so severe that I could barely breathe.

I sat on the edge of the bed, waited for the episode to pass, and picked up my phone.

Social media was filled with photos of Ethan and Claire.

Millions of people were celebrating their engagement.

“Finally, he chose the right woman.”

“Claire was always the one who stood beside him.”

“Anyone is better than Sophie Bennett.”

Seven years earlier, when Ethan publicly revealed our relationship, I was an unknown actress.

His fans insulted me for months.

Now, seeing me replaced, those same people were celebrating.

I concluded that a love blessed by millions of people must have been destined to be happy.

And that a relationship like ours, cursed from the beginning, never had a chance.

The next morning, I had an interview to promote my new movie alongside Noah Parker, the most famous actor at the moment.

The journalist asked:

“Sophie, after working with Noah for three years, what is your opinion of him?”

“He is an extraordinary actor. We work very well together, and I hope we can share another project in the future.”

The cameras started flashing.

“Many people believe the chemistry between you two goes beyond the screen. Are you together?”

“No. Noah and I are just friends.”

The journalist smiled as if he had expected that exact answer.

“Then tell me, what moment of your life would you like to keep forever?”

I didn’t even need to think.

“The winter of 2022.”

The entire room went silent.

In 2022, I had filmed my first movie with Noah on an isolated mountain.

Within minutes, social media concluded that our supposed romance had started during that winter.

But no one knew the truth.

Not even Ethan seemed to remember it.

When the interview ended, Rachel scolded me.

“How could you say that? Everyone knows you met Noah during that winter.”

I looked at her, confused.

“Rachel… you forgot too?”

“Forgot what?”

“During those film shoots, a snowstorm trapped the mountain. Ethan was so worried that he drove there alone to find me.”

My voice began trembling.

“The roads were blocked, and the two of us ended up trapped inside a cabin for ten days.”

For me, those had been the happiest ten days of my life.

Just Ethan and me.

No cameras.

No fans.

No entire world judging our relationship.

Rachel looked at me as if I was telling a story that had never happened.

Then someone rushed toward me.

The slap turned my face to the side.

It was Claire.

“What kind of woman are you?” she screamed. “Wasn’t destroying Ethan enough? Now you had to publicly admit that you’ve been in love with another man since 2022?”

I felt something warm and wet running from my nose.

Blood dripped onto the snow.

Rachel stepped forward angrily, but someone moved between us.

Ethan.

He didn’t even look at my blood-covered face.

He stood in front of Claire to protect her.

“Don’t touch her,” he warned.

Rachel couldn’t believe it.

“Claire just hit Sophie!”

“She deserved it.”

His words were calm.

Cruel.

“If you lay a finger on Claire, you’ll have to deal with me.”

There was a time when Ethan protected me in exactly the same way.

Now he was willing to destroy me to protect another woman.

Rachel clenched her fists.

“Ethan… you don’t know that Sophie…”

I interrupted her.

“Let it go.”

I looked at Claire.

“I won’t report you. Consider this my final favor to Ethan.”

I held Rachel’s hand, and we began walking away.

The white snow behind me became stained red.

“Rachel…” I whispered. “Did I look pathetic?”

She didn’t answer.

My legs started to weaken.

I tried to lift my head to stop the bleeding, but the world suddenly went completely dark.

As I fell, my mind returned to the cabin in 2022.

I was curled up in Ethan’s arms, listening to the wind hitting the windows.

“Ethan,” I said that night, “I hope I die before you. I’m afraid of leaving this world alone.”

He held me tightly.

“And what would you do if I died first?”

“I would go with you.”

Ethan laughed, thinking I was joking.

But I was serious.

The only thing I had never asked was what he would do if I died first.

Would he cry?

Would he miss me?

Or would he feel relieved?

When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital.

Rachel was sitting beside me.

Her eyes were swollen from crying.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

I looked at the dark sky outside the window.

“What time is it?”

“Eleven at night.”

“Ethan leaves tomorrow, doesn’t he?”

Rachel nodded.

“His flight is at nine in the morning.”

I remained silent.

She adjusted the blanket over my body.

“The doctor said you can’t leave the hospital anymore. I canceled all my commitments. I’m staying with you.”

I didn’t need to hear anything else.

I finally understood the truth.

This time, my body would not recover.

And while Ethan was beginning a new life beside another woman…

I only had a few days left to live.

PART 2

Rachel thought I was asleep.

I wasn’t.

I heard her leave the room and collapse into tears in the hallway behind the door.

For months, I had tried to hide the seriousness of my illness from her.

First came the dizziness.

Then the coughing.

Then the bleeding and a fatigue so deep that even breathing became difficult.

The diagnosis had come too late.

Advanced-stage lung cancer.

The doctors spoke in terms of weeks.

Maybe days.

I had decided not to tell Ethan.

I didn’t want him to stay with me out of pity.

But I also never expected our story to end that way.

The next morning, I woke up before dawn.

Rachel was sleeping in a chair.

I picked up my phone and saw the last photo of Ethan before he boarded the plane.

Claire was walking beside him, wearing a cap and a mask.

His hand rested gently on her back.

They looked like the perfect couple.

I deleted the picture.

Then I opened a hidden folder.

Inside were photographs from seven years together.

Ethan sleeping on my couch.

Ethan cooking for the first time and burning dinner.

Ethan hiding under a hooded jacket so he could accompany me to the movies.

Ethan in that cabin covered in snow.

In the last photograph, he was standing with his back turned, lighting the fireplace.

Below it was the date:

December 18, 2022.

I closed my eyes.

That winter had not only been the most beautiful memory of my life.

It had also been the beginning of the end.

During the storm, I found Ethan unconscious near the road.

He had been in an accident while trying to reach me.

We spent ten days isolated, waiting for rescue teams to clear the mountain roads.

But on the fifth day, Ethan developed a fever.

On the seventh, he stopped recognizing me for several hours.

When we were finally rescued, doctors discovered a brain injury.

They warned me that he might suffer partial memory loss.

At first, he seemed fine.

He only forgot small things.

A conversation.

A dinner.

A promise.

Over time, he began forgetting entire pieces of our relationship.

I patiently reminded him.

He believed me.

Until that phone call.

That day, while I was eating spicy noodles, Ethan heard my heavy breathing and thought I was with another man.

He never gave me a chance to explain.

Claire confirmed his suspicions.

She showed him photographs of me beside Noah.

Messages taken out of context.

Manipulated headlines.

Ethan, unable to remember the cabin and many recent moments, believed I had been betraying him for years.

I never knew how far Claire had gone.

Rachel did.

That morning, while I pretended to sleep, I heard her arguing with someone on the phone.

“I’m not going to keep hiding this,” she said.

“Claire took advantage of Ethan’s memory problems. She deleted photos, changed appointments, intercepted messages. She made him believe Sophie was cheating on him.”

There was a pause.

“Yes. I have proof.”

I opened my eyes.

Rachel entered moments later and found me sitting on the bed.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

The color drained from her face.

“Sophie…”

“How long?”

She sat beside me.

“I discovered part of the truth after the party. Claire had controlled Ethan’s work phone for years. She also organized his schedule and had access to his treatments.”

“His treatments?”

Rachel lowered her eyes.

“Ethan was still taking medication because of his brain injury. Claire changed specialists several times without telling him. According to one of the doctors, some episodes of confusion may have worsened because of improper treatment.”

My chest tightened.

“Are you saying she made him forget me?”

“Not completely. But she took advantage of it.”

Rachel pulled a flash drive from her bag.

“I have copies of emails, deleted messages, and call records. I also obtained security footage. Claire was the one who blocked your number on Ethan’s phone.”

I stared at the small device.

For months, I believed Ethan had chosen to remove me from his life.

Now I discovered that someone had built a lie by taking advantage of his damaged mind.

“Give it to him,” I said.

“To whom?”

“To Ethan.”

Rachel shook her head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“You are the one who should tell him.”

“No.”

“Sophie, he still has the ability to reach you.”

“Exactly why I don’t want to see him.”

Rachel began crying.

“How can you say that?”

“Because if he comes now, I’ll never know if he came because he loves me or because I’m dying.”

My voice came out weaker than I expected.

“I don’t want to become the last obligation of his life.”

Rachel squeezed the flash drive between her fingers.

“And you’re going to let him marry Claire?”

I looked out the window.

“The truth doesn’t belong only to me anymore.”

“Give it to him. Then let him decide.”

Ethan was about to board the plane when he received the call.

Rachel did not tell me the details until later.

I only knew that he left the boarding line after hearing the first words.

Claire tried to stop him.

“Ethan, we’re going to miss the flight!”

He didn’t answer.

Rachel sent him the evidence.

First came the record showing Claire had blocked my number.

Then a conversation with a paparazzo she had paid to photograph me beside Noah.

Then an audio recording.

Claire’s voice was perfectly clear:

“As long as he doesn’t remember the mountain, he’ll believe anything.”

Ethan played that sentence three times.

“What mountain?” he asked.

Claire began trembling.

“You don’t know what you’re listening to.”

“What mountain, Claire?”

She tried to approach him, but Ethan stepped back.

For the first time in years, he looked at her as if she were a stranger.

The plane took off without them.

Ethan returned to the city.

During the drive, he called Rachel more than twenty times.

She didn’t answer.

At eleven in the morning, the door to my room opened suddenly.

Ethan appeared without a coat, his hair messy, and his breathing uneven.

I had never seen him like that.

His eyes found the tubes, the machines, and the blood bag connected to my arm.

He froze.

“Sophie…”

I looked away.

“I thought you were on your way to Shanghai.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?”

“Everything.”

I didn’t answer.

Ethan walked toward the bed.

“Rachel told me about your illness.”

“There was no point in telling you.”

“Of course there was!”

His voice broke.

“We spent seven years together.”

“And during the last few months, you treated me as if those seven years never existed.”

Silence filled the room.

Ethan closed his eyes.

“I didn’t remember.”

“I know.”

“Claire…”

“I know that too.”

He looked at me, confused.

“Then why didn’t you defend yourself?”

I smiled weakly.

“I tried many times. You never wanted to listen.”

“You should have insisted!”

“I called you until I was blocked. I went to your house and security threw me out. I wrote letters you never answered.”

I struggled to breathe.

“How much more should I have humiliated myself to prove that I loved you?”

Ethan fell to his knees beside the bed.

He held my hand with the same tenderness that reminded me of the man I had fallen in love with.

“Forgive me.”

I slowly pulled my fingers away.

“You cannot come here, ask for forgiveness, and expect everything to return to the way it was.”

“I don’t expect that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Ethan opened his mouth but couldn’t answer.

At that moment, I understood.

He was still lost.

He wanted to relieve his guilt.

He wanted to recover what he had destroyed.

But he didn’t know how much of that love was truly still inside him.

“Go back to Claire,” I said.

His expression hardened.

“I will never marry her.”

“That is no longer my concern.”

“Sophie…”

“I’m tired.”

I called the nurse.

Ethan slowly stood.

Before leaving, he placed something on the table.

It was a printed photograph.

The snow-covered cabin.

On the back, he had written:

“I don’t remember everything yet, but my heart recognizes this place.”

That night, Ethan officially canceled the engagement.

He also suspended the tour.

The news shocked the industry.

Claire denied every accusation, but the evidence began becoming public.

Rachel handed the records to the police and Ethan’s lawyers.

An investigation was opened into manipulation of medical treatment, illegal access to private communications, and falsification of information.

The fans who had once insulted me suddenly changed their tone.

“I always believed Sophie.”

“She was the victim.”

“Ethan needs to win her back.”

I turned off my phone.

I did not need affection from people who only followed the direction of the scandal.

Over the following days, Ethan returned to the hospital every morning.

I did not allow him into the room.

He sat outside for hours.

Sometimes he brought coffee for Rachel.

Other times he left photographs, letters, or small objects from our relationship.

A movie ticket.

A scarf.

The key to my old apartment.

He never forced me to see him.

He simply stayed.

Until one night, I suffered a severe breathing crisis.

Doctors rushed to stabilize me.

When I woke up, Ethan was sitting beside my bed.

Rachel had allowed him inside.

“I thought you had died,” he whispered.

His eyes were red.

“Not yet.”

He gave a broken laugh.

“I remembered something.”

I said nothing.

“The cabin. You were sitting in front of the fireplace. You were wearing my socks because yours were wet.”

My heart trembled.

“I also remember you saying you wanted to die before me.”

I looked at him.

Ethan was crying silently.

“You asked me what I would do if you died first.”

“I never asked you that.”

“You did. Later, when you thought I was asleep.”

I held my breath.

“And what did you answer?”

“Nothing. Because I was awake, but I was afraid.”

He moved the chair closer.

“The answer is that I wouldn’t know how to keep living without you.”

I slowly shook my head.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No. It’s guilt.”

“Then let me prove it.”

“I don’t have time left for demonstrations.”

Ethan held my hand.

“Give me whatever time you have left.”

For a long moment, I said nothing.

Finally, I intertwined my fingers with his.

“Not as my boyfriend.”

He nodded.

“However you want.”

“And I don’t want promises.”

“I won’t make any.”

“I also don’t want you to abandon your life.”

“Then I’ll live every day. But I’ll do it beside you.”

From that morning on, Ethan stayed with me.

Not in front of cameras.

Not publicly.

Not to repair his image.

He was simply present.

He helped me drink water.

He read scripts I would never get to film.

He took me to the window so I could see the snow.

When I had strength, we talked about our life.

When I didn’t, he held my hand.

One afternoon, I asked him to take me back to the mountain.

The doctors said it was impossible.

Ethan did not argue.

Instead, he transformed the room.

He covered the walls with images of a snowy forest.

Installed warm lights.

Rachel found a small electric fireplace.

When I woke up, the hospital room had become our cabin.

“It’s not the same,” Ethan said, “but it’s the closest I could get.”

I cried for the first time since receiving my diagnosis.

Not from fear.

From relief.

That night, I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Ethan.”

“I’m here.”

“When I leave, don’t come with me.”

His body tensed.

“Sophie…”

“Promise me you’ll keep living.”

“You asked me not to make promises.”

“This one is different.”

He stayed silent for so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer.

Finally, he kissed my forehead.

“I promise.”

I smiled.

“Then I’m not afraid anymore.”

I died three days later while snow fell over the city.

Ethan was holding my hand.

Rachel was on the other side of the bed.

My final breath was peaceful.

Months later, Ethan returned to his career.

He never went back to Claire.

The legal case ended with multiple convictions for evidence manipulation, unauthorized access to medical information, and obstruction.

But Ethan never used my death to promote himself.

He only spoke about me once.

It was during the final show of his tour, in front of a completely packed stadium.

The lights went out.

On the screen appeared a photograph of a small cabin covered in snow.

Ethan sat at the piano.

“There was a woman who loved me when I couldn’t protect her,” he said.

“Then, when I forgot our love, she continued protecting me from afar.”

He took a shaky breath.

“She asked me to live. So that is what I try to do every day.”

He played a new song.

He called it:

“Winter of 2022.”

At the end, he did not say my name.

It wasn’t necessary.

On the piano sat the old photograph he had left in my room.

And on the back, beside his first sentence, he had added another:

“My mind forgot you for a while. My heart never did.”