Chapter 2

Alex told me later that when Jayden opened the box and saw the ring, his first reaction was not panic. It was a frown.

He said, "She's throwing a fit again?"

Sophia sat on the edge of the hospital bed, her eyes red and swollen, and said, "Jayden, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Does Lydia have the wrong idea? I never thought she'd actually send the ring back."

Jayden set the ring back in the box and said flatly, "Don't worry about her. She can't live without me. Three days, tops. She'll come back on her own."

Sophia dropped her gaze, and her voice came out so thin it could have shattered. "But today was your wedding. Won't she be really hurt?"

Jayden was silent for a few seconds before he said, "She'll understand."

I had heard that phrase too many times.

I would understand that Grant Group kept him busy. I would understand that Lilian was impossible to please. I would understand that Sophia was sick. And I would understand being put last, over and over again.

*****

I did not go back to the bridal suite the Grant family had prepared for me.

I took off my wedding dress and pulled the pearls from the hem one by one, dropping them into a clear plastic bag.

They were meant to trail behind me like a river of stars as I walked down the aisle. Now they were nothing but a heavy bag of scrap.

It was one in the morning when I walked back into the Lyden studio. The lights by the entrance were still on, and my entire team was inside.

Joey Reed, my creative director, looked up when I came through the door. Her eyes welled up the second she saw me. "Lydia."

I swapped my heels for flats and switched on the conference room projector.

I said, "No crying tonight. We have three things to handle first."

I plugged in my laptop. "First, deactivate the joint wedding account under my name and Jayden's. Every sample photo, every piece of copy, and every creative asset comes down and gets backed up.

"Second, send a formal notice to all of today's guests. The only stated reason is that the groom failed to appear, and all compensation falls on Jayden.

"Third, I want the proposal for the overseas couture project in my hands by nine tomorrow morning. Grant Group's wedding division loses access to every template, blueprint, and vendor list we own."

The room went silent for two seconds.

Joey was the first to nod. "Got it."

Someone asked quietly, "Lydia, won't Mr. Grant—"

"He will." I stared at the screen, packed with rows and rows of contract numbers. "So starting now, all communication goes through the lawyers."

Michael walked in with a hot coffee in his hand.

He had been a year ahead of me in college and the first investor in Lyden.

The year the Lane family went bankrupt, everyone told me to go beg the Grants for help, but Michael was the one who pulled me away from the bank and asked if I still wanted to build my own brand.

I said yes.

He told me, "Then don't mortgage your life on an engagement."

But I mortgaged it anyway for three years.

Michael set the coffee beside me. He didn't offer any comfort and handed me a folder instead.

He said, "Draft disengagement agreement. If the Grants refuse to sign, we sue for breach of contract and IP infringement.

"Over the past three years, Grant Group's wedding division used eight of your key visual designs, eleven workflow templates, and four exclusive vendor lists. I've got it all documented."

I opened the folder and turned the pages.

Every line was precise and clinical, cutting through three years of self-deception like a scalpel.

I asked him, "Won't this get ugly?"

Michael looked at me. "Lydia, they already did the ugly part. You're just putting a number on it."

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

Lydia Lane. Not Jayden's fiancée. Just Lydia.

The next morning, Jayden didn't come himself.

He sent Alex with a message instead. "Mr. Grant says yesterday was a special situation, and he wants you to cool off. The wedding's been pushed to next month, and he'll take care of the hotel."

I was reviewing venue materials for an overseas project at the time.

The client was from an independent jewelry brand, and they wanted a castle wedding with no premade floral templates. The entire event had to feel like stepping into a live couture show.

I forwarded Alex's message to Michael.

Ten minutes later, Jayden received a letter from my lawyer. Three documents hit Grant Group's legal department at once—an engagement termination, a damages claim, and an intellectual property recovery notice.

By three o'clock, Jayden finally called.

I didn't answer.

He called again.

I put my phone on silent and went back to revising the design.

On the screen, I had turned the castle courtyard into a wash of silver-white light.

The bride would descend the stone steps with her veil brushing past the candelabras, and every guest would look up at her instead of waiting for a groom who might walk out at any moment.

Joey studied the design for a long time before she said, "Lydia, you put more heart into this than your own wedding."

I stopped. My wedding?

It wasn't until the ninety-ninth invitation had been voided that I finally understood. It had never been my wedding.

It was a networking event for the Grants. It was a trophy for Lilian to prove the Lanes had finally bent the knee. It was a promise Jayden dangled to keep me in line.

And I was the only person who ever believed it was home.