Chapter 1
I had been with Charles Grant for ten years, going from living in low‑cost rental housing to living in the most expensive villa in Baylierd.
I'd taken drinks off his hands, miscarried two children, and put my life on the line to help him build half his business empire.
Three days before the wedding, he smoothed my hair and smiled. "Emily, the wedding dress is ready, but I won't be at the ceremony. I registered my marriage with someone else this morning."
He said the girl was twenty, pure and innocent, worthy of a marriage license.
I was nothing but a rag after ten years, unwanted by anyone without him.
He removed my ring in front of all the guests and had me locked away for three days, causing me to miscarry my third child.
Everyone was waiting for me to beg him, but no one knew that the phone call I made from the side of the road was enough to turn Baylierd upside down.
*****
When I came out of the bridal shop, Charles was already waiting by the car.
He took the hoop skirt from my hands, tucked it into the back seat, and bent down to open the passenger door for me.
"Emily, the wedding dress is ready. It fits you even better than last time," he said.
He closed the door, walked around to the driver's seat, and turned to look at me. "But I won't be able to make it to the wedding."
My hand hovered over the seatbelt buckle, my mind blank. I was still trying to process what he'd said. "What do you mean you can't make it?"
He started the car, his tone casual, like he was simply commenting on the weather. "This morning, I went to the courthouse with a girl to get married. We got all the paperwork done."
I stared at him.
He gave a smile, leaned over, and buckled my seatbelt for me. "Don't look at me like that, Emily. You're the most important person to me. Nothing will ever change that."
"You're saying you got married to someone else?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Our wedding is in five days."
"That's why I'm telling you now," Charles said, steering with one hand as he turned onto the main road. "The wedding will go on. Grab anyone to stand in for me, get the ceremony over with, and don't let yourself suffer."
In the back seat, my freshly altered wedding dress was folded up, wrapped in a clear dust cover, so white that it was dazzling.
Charles said, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, "Her name is Olivia Lane. She's twenty and just started her junior year.
"She's stubborn as hell and refused to be my mistress. I chased her for eight months, and she wouldn't even let me hold her hand. It wasn't until I promised to marry her that she finally said yes."
Eight months? Our wedding had been in the works for eight months, too.
He checked everything himself, including invitations, venue, flowers, menu, and even the honeymoon plans, then signed off on it all personally.
During those same eight months, while Charles was grinning beside me, helping me pick out cake flavors for our wedding, he was also relentlessly pursuing Olivia, begging her for one chance.
"She's not like anyone else, Emily. She's pure, innocent, and when she looks at me, it's like I'm the only person in her world." As Charles spoke, his face was very sincere.
He made her sound like some priceless gem he'd discovered.
"She finally agreed to give me her first time the day before yesterday. At the hotel, she was hurting so much that she cried her eyes out, and then she wouldn't let go of me, holding onto my neck for dear life," he added.
Charles turned his head, noticed how pale I looked, and let out a sigh. "Don't be mad. You know how guys are. When a guy meets such an innocent girl, it hits different."
I glanced at the open glove compartment beside me.
Inside, a pink butterfly bow hair clip sat there, a long strand of hair tangled in its sequined edge. It wasn't mine.
"Emily?" Charles called.
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to swallow the bitter bile rising in my throat.
"If you're really feeling upset, go ahead and cry. Once you're done, move on," Charles said, trying to comfort me. "Come on, after everything we've been through for ten years, you're not seriously going to throw it all away because of a marriage license?"
We had been together for ten years. I was with him since I was eighteen.
We once lived in the basement of a half-built apartment, shivering through winter nights, wrapped in the same old blanket, trying to make it till morning.
We ate leftovers after everyone else had gone home. I worked three odd jobs for him, and every bit went straight into his first project.
We were so poor that I couldn't afford to have a baby.
The first time, I chugged cold water and forced myself up and down the stairs to end the pregnancy.
The second time, I bled through the night in that freezing apartment, pain tearing me apart, while he stood in front of me, sobbing and promising me. "Emily, when I finally make it big, the first thing I'll do is marry you.
"God forbid I should ever hurt you."
The promise echoed in my heart for ten years.
Suddenly, Charles's phone rang.
The ringtone was soft and sweet. I'd heard it go off in the middle of the night more than once, and every time, Charles would wave it off, saying it was a client calling.
He didn't answer right away. He glanced down at the screen, hesitated for a second, then set the phone face down on the center console.
"Emily, you have no family and no job. Without me, who out there would dare take you in?" Charles said.
He pulled over to the side of the road, turned off the engine, and pulled out the keys. "Take a cab home. I'm going to pick up Olivia for her prenatal checkup."
"What?" I blurted out.
"Olivia's period has been all over the place, so she's going to get it checked out," Charles said as he opened the car door and stepped outside.
He walked a few steps, then came back, leaning down to look at me through the window. "Don't overthink it. You're still the most important person to me."
He made a call, instructing his driver to come and take the car away. Moments later, its taillights vanished into the stream of traffic.
I pushed open the passenger door, crouched down by the curb, and threw up for what felt like forever.
The wedding dress in the back seat, wrapped in its dust cover, caught the sunlight, so white that it was like a cruel joke.
We had been together for ten years.
He was sure I'd never leave.
He was convinced I had no home, no money, no one who cared, and nowhere to turn except back to him.
I pulled the pregnancy test report from my pocket, staring at the date and numbers. My tears splattered across the paper.
It was our third baby.
This time, I kept it all to myself.
After a long while, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number, the only one in my contacts without a name attached.
It rang three times before someone picked up.
"It's me." I wiped away my tears and stood up.