Chapter 1
"Ms. Sophia Foster, do you take Mr. Charles Morton to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, till death do you part?" the priest asked.
I gave Charles a tender look, ready to answer.
"Hold up!" an urgent voice suddenly rang out.
Confused, I turned around to see a woman holding a baby.
"Charles," she said, her voice shaking, "our baby's sick. Can we pause this for a second?"
The wedding hall erupted into chaos.
I felt like I'd been hit by a truck—Charles had a kid with another woman!
Charles bolted from the altar and looked at me, his eyes ice-cold. "I was gonna marry you out of obligation. But the moment Olivia showed up, I knew—she's the only one I want."
He yanked off his ring, grabbed Olivia Lane's hand, and walked away without looking back.
I stood alone on the altar, the unused ring clenched in my fist, my heart shattering into a million pieces.
*****
I stared down at the USB drive the priest just handed me.
What was on it wasn't some wedding video. Instead, it was something that ripped my heart to shreds.
Charles always claimed he hated cooking—said the kitchen smoke would kill his lungs, and he just couldn't stand it.
He'd never sit down for dinner with me, always turning up his nose and saying my home-cooked meals were beneath his fancy taste.
But here, on this USB, were thousands of cozy, lovey-dovey moments of Charles with Olivia in the kitchen.
They chopped veggies together and baked side by side. Every single shot screamed pure happiness.
The footage covered six full years—exactly how long Charles and I had been together.
I'd bust my ass hunting down crazy ingredients, sweating over gourmet meals to impress him.
I'd pulled all-nighters, grinding out plans and proposals for his company.
I'd believed we were building a great future together.
Yet this whole time, he had been out there soaking up all that sweetness and warmth with Olivia.
The real kicker was, while I was wearing myself out networking and downing shots to seal deals for him, he was busy having a baby with her.
No wonder he never wanted to come home—turned out he was always with her.
I let out a bitter smile, went back home, and started packing my bags.
Afterward, I called Grandpa, my voice steady. "Grandpa, the wedding's off. Starting today, the Foster and Morton families are cutting all business ties. I'll handle things and come home to take over the company."
"Okay," Grandpa replied, sounding both worried and relieved. "But what's going on? Why'd you suddenly call off the wedding?"
"Don't worry, Grandpa. I've got this. I'll be home in a couple of days," I said.
Before Grandpa could ask more, I quickly hung up.
The maid, Mary, eyed my suitcase with total bewilderment. "This is supposed to be your big day. Where are you off to?"
"The wedding's canceled. From now on, Charles and I are nothing but strangers," I replied flatly.
Mary's eyes went wide in disbelief, but before she could say a word, laughter drifted up from downstairs.
Charles walked in, holding a baby, with Olivia right beside him, carrying tons of baby stuff.
They looked like the perfect little family, all lovey-dovey and happy.
I'd never seen Charles so gentle before. My heart clenched, and I couldn't stop staring at Olivia.
I knew who she was.
She was Charles's ex-girlfriend, the one who left abroad when his family was struggling the most and his business was at its hardest.
After all that time, they'd found their way back to each other.
Charles froze when he saw me, then his brows drew together.
He looked genuinely shocked to see me at home.
Olivia glanced over, her eyes puffy. "Ms. Foster, I'm really sorry about this morning, for crashing your wedding—Charles left with me and the baby. So I rushed back to apologize. I hope you're not too upset."
I gripped the handle of my suitcase so tightly my knuckles turned white.
"Wow, must've been tough—stealing my fiancé and then coming back to play nice," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Olivia went pale, shooting a helpless look at Charles.
Charles's face darkened.
"Sophia," he called, his voice icy, "cut it out. If you're pissed, come at me—I'm the one who cheated and ditched you at the altar. Olivia's got nothing to do with it.
"She's exhausted from taking care of the baby and still recovering. She doesn't need any more drama or gossip. Watch your mouth."
So he was actually capable of caring about others, huh?
It felt like someone had just ripped my heart out, leaving nothing but an endless chill.
When we first started talking about marriage, I thought we'd be planning everything together—even if all he did was cheer me on or check in once in a while.
But in the end, I was left handling everything solo—setting up the venue, working out the schedule, and coordinating with people.
Even on the wedding day, I'd pushed through being sick and kept running around, just so our friends and family wouldn't be kept waiting.
But he had acted like he couldn't care less if I was sick, tired, or hurting.
He hadn't ever stopped to think about how humiliating it was for me to be left at the altar all alone.
"Don't you want to know how I cleaned up the mess you left behind?" I snapped, my voice razor-sharp.