Chapter 1
The wedding cars were stuck outside, and I was upstairs in our new place, busy making a fool of myself.
I went to wash my hands in my wedding dress, but the water splashed up from the sink, soaking my collarbone and ruining my makeup.
When I turned to grab the shawl from the closet, I stood on my tiptoes, but still couldn't reach the rod.
The groomsmen were making a racket outside, but James Foster's secretary, Emily Monroe, just walked right in.
She was dressed in a white suit and flats, and with ease, she reached up and handed me the shawl.
"The rod's just the right height. I hang my coats here all the time," Emily said.
I looked up, startled. "All the time?"
James's expression shifted, but he quickly put on a smile to defuse the situation. "Emily was just overseeing the renovations. She's only been here a few times."
But Emily's next words were even softer. "I suggested raising the island counter. He said you don't cook much, so we just went with what works for me."
The whole room went dead silent.
I stared at the giant wedding photo on the wall, and suddenly, I felt like I was just a sticker slapped onto someone else's life.
James pulled me into his arms.
"Don't ruin the mood on our big day. I'll get you a step stool for next time," he said.
I pushed him away.
"This whole place is made for her. So why don't you just let her be the bride?" I said.
*****
"Olivia, stop it," he said, his tone cold.
Those two words cut deeper than all the laughter in the room.
Chloe Winters, my bridesmaid, rushed over to steady me, shooting James a glare.
"Why is she the one causing trouble? This is her wedding, not your secretary's personal walkthrough," Chloe snapped.
James looked up at her, still wearing that polite smile.
"Chloe, everyone's here. Don't make a scene and embarrass both families," he said.
Andrew, One of the groomsmen poked his head in, his smile frozen on his face.
"James, the wedding cars are still waiting downstairs, and the photographer keeps urging us," he said.
James said to me, his voice softening. "Let's just finish the routine first. Whatever else, we'll talk about it tonight at home."
"Which home are you talking about?" I asked.
My throat burned, like I'd swallowed steam.
"The one where every inch is set up just for her?" I added.
Emily finally spoke up. "Olivia, don't misunderstand. I was just doing my job."
She handed me the shawl, her fingers never brushing against mine.
"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't come around as much," she added.
"From now on?" I echoed.
Chloe let out a laugh. "You really think you'll have any reason to come back to this place after today?"
Emily's face went pale, and she glanced at James.
James immediately stepped in front of her.
"That's enough," he said.
His words weren't loud, but suddenly, every eye in the room was fixed on me, heavy as a weight.
It suddenly felt like I was the one acting out on my own wedding day.
James's mother, Katherine Foster, hurried in from the living room, her bracelets clinking loudly.
"What's going on here? We're running out of time for the ceremony," she said.
Before she could finish, she spotted the water on the floor and my ruined makeup, and her brows knitted together.
"Olivia, I'm not blaming you, but on such an important day, why are you washing your hands?" she said.
Chloe was about to say something, but I held her back.
"The sink's way too high, so the water splashed everywhere," I said.
Katherine glanced at the sink, her tone suddenly indifferent. "Young people are all about aesthetics these days, not practicality. It's normal for things to be a bit high. You'll adjust soon enough."
I looked at her.
"I can't even reach the rod in the closet," I said.
"Then just get a little stool," Katherine replied.
Then she turned to James, urging him. "You too, James. Go ahead and comfort her. It's normal for brides to get nervous."
James reached out and took hold of my wrist.
"You hear that? Everyone's waiting on you," he said.
His palm was warm, but his grip was firm, making it impossible for me to pull away.
Suddenly, firecrackers went off downstairs.
The wedding party started banging on the door, telling us to get a move on.
Relatives outside were chattering nonstop.
"What's taking the bride so long?"
"Is she getting cold feet or what?"
"Don't joke around. The Foster Family paid a fortune in engagement gifts. If she backs out now, it'll be a total disgrace."
James's grip on my wrist was so tight, it sent a jolt of pain through me.
He leaned in close, his voice low and intense. "Olivia, your parents are waiting at the hotel. If you make a scene now, you'll embarrass them too."
That was the final nail in the coffin.
My phone buzzed on the table.
My mom's name Genevieve Monroe flashed on the screen, then disappeared.
James picked it up, hit answer, and switched to speaker.
"Genevieve, Olivia's just touching up her makeup. She'll be down in a minute," he said.
I could hear my mom breathe easier on the other end.
"James, please be patient with her. She didn't sleep well last night," my mom said.
James kept that gentle smile on his face as he looked at me.
"I'll take care of her for the rest of her life," he said.
Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
But my eyes suddenly stung with tears.
James hung up and said to me, "Be good."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"After today, I'll do whatever you want," he added.
Emily stood behind him, gently smoothing out the cuffs of her white suit.
She moved with such ease, like she was the real hostess here, waiting for the guests to leave.
The emcee downstairs called out again."It's time to head out!"
James took my hand and led me toward the door.
As we passed through the entryway, I spotted a pair of off-white flats sitting on the top shelf of the shoe cabinet.
Size 6.5.
I wear size 5.
Emily glanced down, quietly stepping back from a pair of matching flats.
James pulled open the door, and red confetti exploded right in front of us.
Confetti rained down all over me.
As the camera zoomed in, James suddenly pulled me into his arms, holding me close and acting like the perfect husband in front of everyone.
"Honey, let's go home and get married," he said.
I looked up and saw Emily at the end of the hallway, behind the fire door, slipping the shawl onto her shoulders.