Chapter 1

I waited forty-seven minutes at the courthouse before I saw my fiancé’s marriage certificate on another woman’s Instagram.

Ione’s caption was short.

The person who truly cares will stand beside you on your hardest day.

Riven stood beside her.

He wore the navy suit I had chosen that morning. I had fixed his tie before he left my apartment. I had even removed a loose thread from his sleeve.

Now a silver wedding band circled his finger.

Ione's eight-year-old daughter, Tamsin stood between them with a hospital bracelet around her wrist.

My hands went cold.

I looked down at the folder in my lap.

Our marriage application was inside. So was the property agreement for the house we planned to share after our wedding next month.

A small velvet box rested on top.

It held the watch I had bought for Riven. The back carried four engraved words.

Eight years. Always us.

Riven and I had been together for eight years. I had supported him through graduate school, his father’s funeral, and the failure of his first firm.

Today was supposed to make me his wife.

Instead, he had worn the suit I chose to marry Ione.

The registration-room door opened.

Riven walked out.

He saw me and stopped.

"You’re still here. Good."

I held up my phone.

"You married Ione."

"Three days ago, the hospital gave Ione an insurance deadline," he said. "Tamsin needs this treatment immediately and My insurance covers a stepchild."

"I will stay married to her for one year. Then we will divorce."

He said it like he had moved a meeting on his calendar.

"You planned this."

"I found the solution three days ago."

Three days ago, he had confirmed our wedding menu.

Last night, he had asked me to finalize the seating chart.

This morning, he had kissed my forehead while I straightened the tie he wore in Ione’s wedding photo.

He had not told me because he had never intended to give me a choice.

"What happens to our wedding?"

"It goes ahead."

I thought I had misheard him.

"You’ll wear the dress. We’ll exchange rings. You’ll host the reception. Our families don’t need to know about the certificate."

My fingers tightened around the folder.

He wanted me to carry every duty of a wife.

I still had to host the banquet. I still had to wear the dress. I had to pretend everything was perfect. I still had to smile beside him in front of our families.

I would still be expected to love him, support him, and wait for him.

But he handed the actual legal rights to another woman.

She could call herself his wife.

She could make decisions as his spouse.

She could use his insurance, his address, and his family status.

Riven wanted me to stand beside him and pretend none of that had happened.

"You’re her husband," I said. "What am I?"

His eyes narrowed.

"You’re the woman I love. Why isn’t that enough?"

The courthouse clerk called our names.

Riven glanced toward the desk.

"We can’t register now anyway. I’m already legally married." He checked his watch. "Release the appointment and go home. We’ll deal with this tonight."

Another task for me.

Cancel the appointment.

Keep planning the wedding.

Wait one year.

And, apparently, be grateful that he still loved me.

I picked up the folder and walked to the clerk’s desk.

"I’d like to release our appointment."

The clerk glanced past me at the wedding band on Riven’s hand.

"Only today’s appointment?"

Before I could answer, my phone lit up.

An email sat beneath Ione’s Instagram notification.

FINAL REMINDER: SEATTLE PERMANENT TRANSFER

I had ignored it for weeks.

My company had offered me the Seattle position twice.

The first time, Riven had said moving would destroy the firm he had spent years building here.

The second time, our wedding date was already fixed.

So I had turned it down.

Twice.

I turned my phone facedown.

"Today’s," I told the clerk.

I opened the Seattle email.

I did not accept the position.

Not yet.

I selected one option.

REQUEST UPDATED TERMS.

The reply came before I reached my car.

The Seattle position remains available.

Final decision required within forty-eight hours.

Riven thought he had postponed our future for one year.

He had no idea I now had forty-eight hours to decide whether he still had one with me.