Chapter 1

The day before the wedding, I was carrying a brand new bedding set to the house. But when I got there, Ethan Wyatt's first love opened the door.

Summer Roper was wearing my slippers. Her hair was still damp, as if she'd just showered. She stood there in the doorway, smiling at me, "Whom are you looking for?"

The shopping bag in my hand dug into my palm. I looked past her and saw the property deed spread out on the coffee table.

The cover looked brand new, almost as if it had been placed there for me to notice.

Summer walked over slowly, picked it up, flipped it open, and handed it to me. "Oh, right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Summer Roper."

She paused, her grin widening more. "And I'm also the owner of this house."

As I stared at the page, my mind went totally blank.

In the section for the property owner, Summer Roper's name was plain as day.

I paid 950 thousand dollars in full for our wedding house, but the name on the deed was Ethan's first love.

My first reaction wasn't to cry. I felt it was absurd.

It was so absurd that I actually wondered if I'd walked into the wrong apartment.

I glanced up at the apartment number. 1602. No mistake there.

I was the one who set the code: Ethan's birthday and mine. But Summer was leaning against the door as if she belonged there, making me feel like I was the one trespassing.

Seeing me stay silent, she slowly closed the deed, like she was pitying me. "Didn't Ethan tell you? The house is listed under my name for now."

"For now?" I repeated.

"Yeah, for now. You two are getting married, and he didn't want you to be so hard on yourself for the preparation, so he handled everything himself."

She ran her fingers over the deed like she was stroking her own face. "Men always have their own way of doing things."

I stared at the slippers on her feet. Bunny-eared slippers, creamy white. I'd picked them out myself last week, one pair in pink, one in gray.

I'd planned for Ethan and me to each have our own pair after the wedding. But now, the pink pair was on her feet.

In that moment, I didn't want to waste a single word on her.

I pulled out my phone and called Ethan.

After three rings, he picked up. "Stella, I'm busy right now. The rehearsal at the hotel is still going on. You can go home. We'll check the house together tomorrow."

I looked at Summer, keeping my voice calm. "Your first love is in our wedding house."

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

It wasn't the silence of guilt. It was the silence of someone desperately trying to come up with a story.

Then he said, "Don't make a scene. I'll be right there."

He said, "Don't make a scene."

He didn't say, "Let me explain."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, I'll wait for you."

After hanging up, I stood there in the living room, frozen.

Summer grabbed my cup and helped herself to some water. "Stella, you're way cooler than I thought you'd be."

"You're more shameless than I thought," I shot back.

She looked up at me, not the slightest bit angry. She smiled, "That's only because you haven't seen the whole picture yet."

She set the cup down and then casually pointed toward the master bedroom. "Did you see the whole left side of the closet? That's mine.

"Ethan set it aside for me. And that gardenia on the balcony? He bought it for me, said I used to love the scent."

I stood there, blood rushing to my head.

That gardenia? I'd posted a screenshot on my feed, saying the balcony was empty and I wanted a white flower.

He replied at that time, "Sure, I'll pick one out."

So, it wasn't for me after all. He bought it because she liked it.

Summer wasn't done yet. She twisted the knife deeper. "And this house? The direction it faces, the floor, the whole vibe. He picked everything based on what I used to say.

"Do you really think Ethan would know anything about that trendy pastel look?"

Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach.

It wasn't because she was so smug. It was because I finally realized that this house was never meant for me, not from the very beginning.

I thought I was buying a wedding house for myself. But in reality, I was fixing someone else's broken dreams.

Twenty minutes later, Ethan showed up.

He shot me a look as soon as he walked in, his brows furrowed, like I was the one who made a big trouble for him. "Summer, go back to your room."

I looked at him, and suddenly, I couldn't help but find it kind of funny. "Back?"

"Stella Hughes," he said, his tone dropping. "Are you seriously going to split hairs now?"

"What else am I supposed to do? Grit my teeth and pretend nothing's wrong until after the wedding tomorrow?"

He rubbed his temples, then walked over and tried to drag me out. "Let's talk outside."

I shook off his hand. "Say it here."

Summer stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching like it was entertainment.

Ethan's face darkened, but he tried to hold back his anger as he explained, "There were some issues with the paperwork for this house.

"You were busy, and the eligibility check couldn't be done in time, so I registered it under Summer's name temporarily. After the wedding, we'll transfer it over to you. No rush."

"Eligibility check?" I looked at him. "I paid in full. What's there to check? You think I don't know how buying a house works?"

He paused, and then continued, "It's more complicated than you think. There's the developer's paperwork, some tax tricks, stuff you wouldn't understand."

"So, because I wouldn't understand, you put it in her name?"

"Temporarily."

"Temporarily? So temporarily that she's wearing my slippers and taking over my master bedroom?"

That finally got under Ethan's skin. "She just got back to this country and has nowhere to stay. I let her crash here for a few days. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

"Letting her stay is one thing, but why is the deed in her name?"

"I already told you. It's for the paperwork."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

He looked at me, finally fed up, and dropped the pretense. "Because I knew you'd make a scene."

"So, you went ahead without telling me?"

"Stella, we're getting married tomorrow. Can you not make a big deal out of this right now? The house will be ours sooner or later. Does it really matter whose name is on the deed?"