Chapter 1

I was hopeless with directions. After five years in Harbor City, I still couldn't tell north from south.

Alex Carter always set my navigation in advance. He said he'd guide me for the rest of my life.

On our wedding day, the wedding car reached Crestmont Road when he suddenly claimed the bouquet had been left in the trunk. I had barely stepped out when the door clicked locked.

I saw the driver glance at Alex in the rearview mirror, as if he'd received his orders long ago. The next second, the convoy disappeared into the fog.

Alex sent me a voice message. "Walk 999 steps ahead, and you'll reach a fork. Emily said you couldn't even find the chapel without me. I don't believe her. Olivia, don't make me lose."

Emily Jones was his ex-girlfriend. I walked in high heels until one ankle rubbed raw and started bleeding. Once I'd taken two thousand steps and realized I was completely lost, I called Alex.

But Emily answered. "She can't even tell north from south, and you still made her walk alone. Now she'll be wandering around the mountain for three hours. What if she misses the wedding?"

Alex's voice was casual. "Start the reception without her. Take pictures and toast the guests for her. She'll find her way here eventually."

A photo popped up in the wedding group chat. Emily stood beside Alex, holding the bouquet he'd lied about leaving in the trunk.

I realized those 999 steps had been laid out for her. I took off my heels and threw them into the ravine.

I thought, 'I would take a different road.'

*****

"The bride got lost, so the groom owes us three drinks," the emcee joked from the stage.

A video popped up in the wedding group chat.

He grinned at Alex and Emily and lifted the microphone again. "You two have such perfect chemistry. No wonder you've been best friends for seven years."

The guests cheered and egged them on. Alex wore the custom black tuxedo I'd had made for our wedding. He held the microphone in one hand, his expression calm and gentle.

"Emily handled all the guests for Olivia. She'll take Olivia's penalty drink for her," Alex said.

Emily stood beside him in her bridesmaid dress. She lowered her head and lifted the glass, a shy smile on her face.

Friends and relatives who didn't know the truth started flooding the chat.

One guest wrote, "The bridesmaid and Mr. Carter look pretty good together."

Another guest wrote, "The bride is so inconsiderate. How could she be late to her own wedding?"

Another photo appeared in the chat. Alex was bent over, straightening Emily's veil.

It wasn't an ordinary bridesmaid hairpiece. It was the bridal accessory I'd carefully pressed myself the night before, planning to wear it during our vows.

I walked barefoot along the winding mountain road, sharp gravel cutting into my soles and sending pain shooting up my legs. But it was nothing compared with the photo searing itself into my mind.

Five years earlier, Alex had held my hand as we walked this road.

He'd pointed to the night view of Bayview Harbor. "I'll never let you get lost in Harbor City," he'd promised.

Back then, he'd made me a promise: "As long as you're with me, I'll take you anywhere."

Now he was beside someone else, accepting the blessings that should have been mine.

A message from Alex appeared above the chat.

[There are signs along the road. How far have you gotten? You have three hundred steps left. Don't make me lose in front of Emily.]

When I didn't answer for two minutes, he sent another message. [Don't keep the elders waiting. Olivia, be considerate.]

For five years, whenever I got lost, Alex had patiently repeated the same promise over the phone. "Don't be scared. Stay where you are. I'll come find you."

Today, he'd made me walk alone for the first time. It wasn't because something important had delayed him. He'd done it because he'd made a bet with Emily.

I closed WhatsApp and called my father's private number.

Six months earlier, I'd insisted on marrying Alex despite his having nothing. I'd guaranteed loans for his company, secretly injected capital, and arranged bridge financing. My father and I had had a terrible fight, and he'd cut off contact.

Still, he'd sent his secretary to arrange the wedding in grand style. He'd made one thing clear.

He said his daughter deserved a grand wedding.

The phone rang for a long time before the call disconnected. My father hadn't answered.

I followed the wet tracks left by the wedding convoy, walking downhill one step at a time. The fog was thick. I took the wrong turn twice and had to retrace my steps.

Bloody footprints stamped across the pale asphalt, stark and horrifying. Alex thought I'd cry and spin in circles if he wasn't there to guide me.

Without anyone showing me the way, I might be scared and take the long way around, but I knew I wouldn't be lost forever.

I flagged down a passing cab. Once inside, I texted my father for the first time in six months.

[Dad, I'm not getting married. I want to come home.]

I leaned against the window and deleted the chat I'd kept pinned for five years, watching Crestmont slide away behind me.