I Married My Fiancé's Rival

Today is my birthday. Zachary Watson, my fiancé, said he wanted to surprise me. He booked the most famous seafood restaurant in the city. When I pushed open the door to the private room, I saw the table already set with exquisite tableware and several familiar faces—all colleagues from Zachary Watson Company, including his assistant, Maya Marshall. Zachary smiled as he came over, took the bag from my hand, and said he had specially prepared a seafood feast for me. A flicker of warmth stirred in my heart, but then I immediately remembered my seafood allergy, which I had told Zachary several times before. I wasn't sure if he had forgotten this time. The dishes arrived quickly—lobster, crab, oysters—a spread of fresh seafood laid out across the entire table. Zachary Watson picked up a lobster and expertly peeled it. He first placed the peeled shrimp into Maya Marshall's bowl beside him, carefully dipping it in the garlic sauce she liked. I was stunned—this was my birthday banquet, yet he peeled shrimp for his assistant first. Then, Zachary peeled shrimp for everyone else, and only after that came to me. But the shrimp he handed me was casually placed on my plate, without any sauce. My hand tightened around the chopsticks; a wave of discomfort stirred inside me. Maya Marshall, sitting across from me, seemed to sense that something was off. She picked up the serving chopsticks, took a piece of fruit, and handed it to me with a smile. "Melody, the mangoes here are especially sweet—try some." I forced a smile and said thank you. But Zachary Watson didn't notice my mood. He was still chatting with Maya, asking if work had been tiring lately and if she wanted to take a few days off. I couldn't help but speak up, my voice tight: "Zachary, did you forget I'm allergic to seafood?" Zachary was momentarily stunned, then frowned. "Allergic? When did you say that? I don't remember." His words felt like a thorn, stabbing deep into my heart. I had clearly told him several times; every time I saw seafood, I reminded him. How could he forget? "I've told you many times before, and each time you said you understood. How could you suddenly forget now?" I raised my voice. The atmosphere in the private room instantly turned awkward. Everyone stopped eating and lowered their heads, afraid to speak. Maya hurriedly tried to ease the tension: "Mr. Watson has probably been too busy lately and accidentally forgot. Melody, please don't be upset. Shall we order something else?" But Zachary wasn't receptive. He looked at me with a reproachful tone: "Melody, it's just forgetting something. Do you have to be so cold?" "Everyone has finally gathered together—don't spoil the mood for everyone." I looked at Zachary Watson, a chill running through my heart. It was my birthday banquet, yet he forgot about my allergies and even blamed me for being moody. What hurt me even more was how much more attentive he was to Maya Marshall than to me. I'd heard before that Zachary never ate seafood because he couldn't stand the fishy smell. But ever since Maya joined the company, he often took her to this seafood restaurant. Some even said that to make sure Maya could have fresh seafood anytime, he bought partial ownership in the restaurant. At the time, I didn't believe it and thought someone was spreading rumors, but now, looking at the scene before me, I can't help but suspect those words were true. I completely lost my appetite, grabbed my bag, stood up, and said, "I can't eat this anymore. You all go ahead." After saying that, I turned and walked away without glancing back at Zachary Watson. I heard Zachary calling from behind, but I didn't look back. Stepping out of the restaurant, the evening breeze brushed my face, carrying a faint chill. I took out my cell phone and scrolled through our chat history. He used to be so thoughtful, remembering all my preferences, but now he's even forgotten my seafood allergy. Has our relationship really come to this? I sat on a bench by the roadside, watching the passersby, my mind tangled in a mess.