Chapter 2

That night, Edward didn't come home.

He took Jenny to that new couples' restaurant everyone had been raving about.

She posted a full grid of photos on social media with the caption: [Mr. CEO says we have to properly celebrate our first day as newlyweds.]

Staring at the matching phone cases and the playful poses Edward made for her, I felt heartbroken.

Early in our relationship, I had suggested couple selfies and matching accessories. But he silenced me with a dismissive wave of his hand, coldly calling my ideas childish.

Now here he was, older than ever, happily doing all of it with Jenny.

While I was still staring at my screen, a notification popped up on the work app.

[Your resignation has been approved.]

I blinked at it, feeling oddly numb. Then my eyes drifted back to Jenny's photos, and the rings on their fingers caught my attention. I recognized them instantly.

I got up and went to the closet. Finding the ring box, I opened it. But it was empty.

I froze as I realized the rings on their fingers were the very ones I had custom-designed for my wedding.

They had cost me nearly every cent I had, close to a million dollars of savings I had built up over years. Even if the wedding never happened, those rings were the only asset I had left to my name.

I forced myself to stay calm as I texted him: [Where are my rings?]

He read my message, offering nothing but silence.

I cut straight to the chase, texting: [If you have no clue, then I'm reporting a theft. The police can find them for me.]

Immediately, the typing notification appeared at the top of the chat. It took him thirty seconds of hesitating before he actually dared to reply.

Edward: [Jenny and I are having a church wedding tomorrow, but the rings we ordered haven't arrived yet. Just borrowing yours for now. I'll return them after the ceremony.]

Knowing that my most sacred symbols of commitment had been reduced to nothing more than a casual gift for another woman shattered what was left of my heart.

I replied: [Don't bother returning them. I don't wear secondhand. Since you've already given them away, you can pay for them. Transfer me seven million dollars.]

I figured he would refuse, but a second later, my phone lit up with a wire transfer notification. Seven million dollars had hit my account.

Then his call came through.

His voice was ice as he warned, "Olivia, the money's in your account. So behave yourself and stay away from Jenny."

He hung up, leaving the screen to fade into a dark mirror that reflected my own face staring back at me. I looked exhausted and hollowed out, with tears I hadn't even realized I was shedding streaking silently down my cheeks.

Every late night at work, every errand run for his family, and every single shirt collar I scrubbed clean of another woman's glitter combined to make me realize how utterly worthless my nine years of unwavering loyalty had been to him.

I had endured everything for the sake of a pathetic delusion, clinging to his empty words that his flings meant nothing because I was the only woman who held the title of wife in his heart.

Under the subtle influence of his manipulation, I found that his twisted explanations eventually started to make sense to me.

But how do you trust a man who can't even be faithful to keep a promise?

I threw myself into packing and called the movers. I wanted out of that house as fast as humanly possible.

The next morning, before the moving company even arrived, I had visitors. They were Edward's parents, who were back from their vacation overseas.

His parents were immediately moved to tears by my gaunt appearance and weary eyes when they saw me. They clung to me, grieving for the vibrant woman I used to be before I gave everything to their son.

"It's all his fault. We told him not to put you through IVF. You poor thing, you've suffered so much.

"If he ever dares treat you badly again, we won't let him get away with it."

Their words hit me like a slap of cold water.

All this time, I had believed it was them who insisted I get pregnant before the wedding. I thought Edward had tried to argue on my behalf but failed. That's what he told me.

Indeed, I had been upset about it. But the Harrington family was old-fashioned, and Edward was their only heir, the last in a direct line of nine generations of single sons.

My devotion to him and my gratitude toward his parents blinded me to a foolish compromise.

Now I realized the truth was the exact opposite.

My fists clenched so hard the bubble wrap in my hands let out a sharp crackle.

"That boy has lost his mind," Jane Harrington, Edward's mother, complained. "Making a woman get pregnant before marriage with IVF? Does he have any idea what that does to a body?

"Olivia, sweetheart, you've been wronged. Tyson and I came back to give you the wedding of the century. You won't have to lift a finger. Just sit back and walk down that aisle like the queen you are."

Then she noticed the half-packed boxes and the suitcases. Her husband, Tyson Harrington, met her eyes, the two of them exchanging a look of sheer confusion.

"Wait, are you moving? Where's Edward? Why is he letting you do heavy lifting?"

In the past, whenever Edward's affairs surfaced, I covered for him, making excuses to his parents to protect his image. But he no longer deserved the grace I once afforded him.

I let out a bitter laugh, explaining, "He's busy planning a wedding with his secretary, Jenny Carter."

I told them everything. Jane grumbled as her jaw dropped, "This is insane. How can he be planning a wedding with you and then marry someone else?"

Tyson looked livid, yelling, "That project was yours from start to finish. If anyone deserved a reward, it was you. Jenny Carter is a nobody."

"Has he completely lost it?" he snarled. "Humiliating his own fiancée for some girl who pours coffee?"

Their faces were dark with fury as they called Edward immediately.

The phone rang until it timed out over and over again.

Shaking with rage at being ignored, Tyson and Jane called the VP directly to track Edward down. They secured the address where Edward was hosting his wedding with Jenny.

Jane squeezed my hand softly, declaring, "Olivia, don't you worry. Today, we're going to teach that ungrateful brat a lesson he'll never forget."

Before I could even protest, they bundled me into the car and floored it to the church.

Inside, the scene was obscene in its beauty. Million-dollar Juliet roses carpeted the aisle. A pastor stood at the altar, solemnly reading vows.