Chapter 3

Ten years ago, while watching a movie together, we'd promised that one day we'd be each other's bridesmaids.

Sophia pulled open the passenger door and was about to get in. Then she suddenly stepped back, bent slightly, and held out her hand to me. "Your Highness, please."

When I didn't move, she gave an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. I almost forgot—it's your husband's car."

Watching how easily she slipped inside, I remembered how often I'd found Sophia's things in Charles' car before. Now it all made sense. None of this had come out of nowhere.

I got into the front passenger seat. She sat down in the back, right behind me.

From the moment we got in, she went completely silent, as if she were sulking with someone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charles stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror.

He wasn't even trying to hide it. How had I missed something so obvious before?

The entire drive, Sophia's phone kept buzzing with messages. Charles wasn't much better—his fingers barely left the screen.

Before long, we arrived at the bridal boutique.

Charles, who'd just claimed he had urgent work to deal with, got out of the car right along with us. "I've sorted things out," he said casually. "I'll go in with you. I've never seen you in a bridesmaid dress before."

He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, clearly trying to put my doubts to rest. In all the years I'd known him, this was the first time I thought he could've made a decent actor.

The moment we stepped inside, a sales associate hurried over with a bright smile. "Are you the bride and groom here to try on wedding dresses?"

At the greeting, Sophia shot Charles a look, clearly annoyed, but said nothing.

Charles cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, she's new—doesn't really know what's going on."

The store manager quickly stepped in to handle the situation. "Ms. Evans, both the wedding gown and the bridesmaid dress are ready." She led us into the inner showroom and brought out the dresses.

Sophia looked seriously pissed, staring at the wedding dress with a bitter, almost wistful look for ages. In the end, Charles stepped in and asked the manager to take her into the fitting room.

"You should go try on the bridesmaid dress too," he said to me. "Sophia picked this one especially for you. She was worried your figure might've changed after having a baby, so this style leaves room for alterations."

He explained it all with a smile, as if he were the groom himself.

A sales assistant ushered me into a fitting room.

The moment the curtain was drawn, I heard Charles' familiar message tone. Then came the sound of his footsteps, moving closer, until they disappeared into the fitting room next door.

Soon, the hushed voices of two shop assistants drifted in from outside.

"Those two must be star-crossed lovers. Every time before, it was always the guy bringing that woman here. I honestly thought they were the bride and groom. Now that I messed up, the manager's definitely going to chew me out after closing."

"Same. And now he's gone into the fitting room with her and kicked us out. Everyone knows what that means."

I dug my nails into my palm to keep myself from losing control.

Right. Even the staff could see it. So how had I been so blind?

When I stepped out in the bridesmaid dress, Charles was sitting where he'd been before, as if he'd never left.

But the wrinkles on his shirt, the faint lipstick mark on his shoulder, and Sophia's reddened eyes told a different story.

I'd never imagined that scenes straight out of a TV drama would play out in my life.

Seeing me, Charles put on an exaggerated show of surprise, mouth hanging open. "Wow! You look amazing. Sophia really has great taste. This style suits you perfectly—it does a great job hiding the way your body changed after having a baby."

He kept harping on about my post-pregnancy figure. How had I never noticed how much he despised me?

I lowered my gaze to my slightly rounded belly. Was having a child really my crime?