Chapter 1

After Julian Carter postponed our wedding for the tenth time, everyone started placing bets on whether I'd actually marry him before I turned thirty.

Some people shook their heads and said, "The seven-year itch always wins. There's no way they'll make it."

Others disagreed and said, "They've been together this long. They'll make it down the aisle eventually."

I spent the whole night torn between hope and anxiety.

But on the day of my dress fitting, Julian left me standing there again.

All because his ex called and whined, "Julian, I'm lost, and I don't know what to do. You're the only person I know here."

He ruffled my hair like it was nothing and said, "Something came up, babe. Next time, I promise."

Everyone around us held their breath, waiting for me to lose it the way I always did.

But this time, I didn't scream or cry. I just smiled and nodded.

What Julian didn't know was that I was going home next week to marry someone else.

And this time, the groom wouldn't be him.

*****

The guests had all left, and the bridal shop was so empty that every sound echoed off the walls.

The saleswoman gave me an awkward look, and I forced a smile. "The wedding's off, but I'll still pay for the dress."

I had barely stepped outside when my phone rang. It was the police station.

The officer on the line spoke in a flat tone. "Are you a family member of Julian Carter's? He's been involved in an altercation, and we need you to come down to the station."

I froze, but then I heard someone on the other end calling Julian's name in a broken, tearful whisper.

The voice was unmistakable.

Julian had postponed our wedding eleven times, and every single time, it was because of her—Anna Jones, his first love.

By the time I arrived at the station, Anna was carefully dabbing ointment onto Julian's wounds.

Her fingers kept brushing against his skin, and the tips of his ears flushed red.

The moment I walked up to them, Julian shot to his feet and stepped away from Anna.

I spoke up, keeping my voice calm and clear. "Ms. Jones, so nice to finally put a face to the name.

"Julian said he had an emergency, and it turns out he got hauled into a police station fighting over you.

"You've pulled him away from our wedding dress fittings more than once now, so tell me, should I call you shameless or just shameless?"

My voice wasn't loud, but every word cut through the room.

Every pair of eyes turned toward Anna, sizing her up with open contempt.

Julian's expression went ice cold in an instant, and he stepped in front of Anna to shield her. "Nevaeh Lane, this is a police station. Stop making a scene."

His gaze landed on me, distant and sharp, filled with anger and blame.

I stared at this man who had treated me like the center of his world for seven years, and suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger.

Anna tugged at the hem of Julian's jacket, and her eyes welled up with tears. "Julian, I'm sorry. I ruined your wedding plans."

She lowered her head and held out the coat draped over her shoulders. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm so useless. I'm fine, really. You should go."

I smacked the coat out of her hands. "It's dirty, just throw it away."

Julian seized my wrist and dragged me outside, his grip so tight it burned. "Shut your mouth, Nevaeh. She was just harassed by a bunch of thugs, and she can't handle any more stress right now."

The tears I'd been holding back came flooding out all at once.

"So I'm supposed to be totally fine with my fiancé rushing off to save her, and I can't even say one word about it? She couldn't call 911? She couldn't scream for help? No, it had to be you, right?"

"Have you forgotten how she threw you away without looking back? You almost died because of her, and she's nothing but a—"

The slap came before I could finish. Julian's hand cracked across my face, and every word I had left died in my throat.

The pain spread like swallowing a fistful of thorns, twisting through my chest and stomach until I couldn't tell where the hurt ended, and the nausea began.

We both froze.

His face crumbled with regret, and he reached for me. "I'm sorry, I—"

I screamed, my voice raw and broken. "Don't touch me."

His hands hung in the air, helpless, and he opened his mouth to say something more.

But a commotion erupted inside the police station, and panic flashed across his face. He shoved past me without a second thought.

He called over his shoulder, "Nevaeh, calm down. We'll talk about this when I get home."

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I watched him walk away. My voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Julian, we're done."