Chapter 1

On the day I was trying on wedding dresses, Ethan Pierce sent me a photo of a marriage certificate.

The bride wasn't me.

His voice was gentle, almost like he was trying to soothe me. "Liv, don't be upset. She's only eighteen, she's too young to deal with all this.

"Let's cancel the wedding. Your husband hates seeing you hurt, and I don't want you walking into that kind of humiliation to marry me."

I gripped the pregnancy test printout so tightly that the edge of the paper dug into my palm.

The lights in the bridal shop glared off the white gown, making my eyes burn.

I almost took out the pregnancy test printout, but ended up shoving it back into my pocket.

He was right.

I shouldn't have to make myself suffer.

*****

In the bridal shop's fitting room, the zipper snagged at the small of my back. The assistant bent to adjust the skirt; the tulle brushed my ankles, and a delicate itch crept upward.

In the mirror, I stood up straight, my waist tightly cinched, the harsh lights making the skin below my collarbone feel dry and overheated.

The sales assistant smiled and said, "Ms. Lane, Mr. Pierce won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you in this."

My phone buzzed on the soft stool beside me.

As I reached for it, the corner of the pregnancy test printout slipped out of my purse and grazed the back of my hand.

Earlier that morning, after leaving the hospital, the doctor handed me the printout and said I was five weeks pregnant, reminding me to get plenty of rest.

I stood outside the hospital for a long time, the sweet scent of roasted sweet potatoes blending with the lingering smell of disinfectant in my nose. I touched my still-flat belly and sent Ethan a message.

I texted him, [Come home early tonight. I have something to tell you.]

He replied with a voice message, there was laughter in the background. "Okay, baby. Wait for me."

I listened to his message three times, then folded up the printout and tucked it away in the innermost pocket of my purse.

Now, my phone screen lit up, Ethan had sent me a photo.

It was a marriage certificate with a red background and an embossed seal, their names printed side by side.

Ethan.

Chloe Quinn.

I stared at the photo, the red background almost burning my eyes. My finger hovered over the screen, frozen, unable to swipe away.

The sales assistant was still talking behind me. "Ms. Lane, do you want to send Mr. Pierce a photo? The wedding's only seven days away, he must be dying to see you in this dress."

My phone buzzed again.

Ethan sent me a voice message.

I tapped it, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Liv, did you see it?" he asked.

His voice was soft and low, like when he used to coax me into taking my medicine. "Don't worry. Chloe's young and stubborn. She said if I didn't get the marriage certificate, she'd walk away. I couldn't do anything about it."

My throat tightened. I wanted to speak, but the words stuck in my chest, making my ribs hurt.

There was the sound of wind on his end, and a girl's impatient voice cut in. "Ethan, are you done talking to her yet? I'm hungry."

Ethan chuckled, his voice sounding more distant from the phone. "Almost done."

When he came back to the phone, his voice was even gentler. "Let's cancel the wedding for now. Don't feel bad. I know you've stuck by my side for five years, that can't have been easy."

I gripped my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white. "Not easy?

"Yeah," he sighed. "You're always the mature one, always putting me first. But Chloe's not like you. When she cries, I can't handle it."

I heard myself ask, "So, in seven days, the bride won't be me?"

"It's not about replacing you. We're not having a wedding anymore," he corrected me, like he was fixing a typo in a contract. "Chloe and I are already married. Having another wedding would make things worse for you."

In the mirror, my lips were almost drained of color.

The sales assistant's smile froze on her face. She was still clutching the hem of the dress, too nervous to let go.

Ethan said again, "Liv, don't make a fuss. Your husband hates seeing you hurt, and I don't want people laughing at you."

Your husband.

Those words slipped into my ears, leaving me with a damp, nauseating feeling that made my skin crawl.

I wanted to pull out the pregnancy test printout from my purse and tell him, "Ethan, I'm pregnant. Our baby was five weeks along. Say it again, you're really canceling the wedding?"

But as my fingers touched the edge of the paper, Chloe's voice came through the receiver. "Make it clear to her. Don't let her keep clinging to you. I'm not going to be the other woman."

Ethan said softly, "I know, you're not the other woman. Don't worry."

He turned back to me, still sounding patient. "Liv, you can stay in the apartment for now. I'll cover the wedding dress, and you'll get everything you're owed. Don't put yourself through this, go find someone who really suits you."

I looked at myself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was so white it looked almost ghostly, with tiny diamonds scattered across the bodice. Under the bright lights, it sparkled so much it made my eyes ache.

I shoved the pregnancy test printout back into my purse and zipped it up. "Ethan."

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Where are you?"

He paused, his tone softening, probably thinking I was finally going to beg him for comfort. "I'm outside city hall, about to take Chloe out for dinner."

"Okay."

"Liv, don't come over. There's really no need to make a scene."

I reached up, took the veil out of my hair, and handed it to the sales assistant. "I won't."

Ethan was silent for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"