Chapter 1 · The Wedding Day I Heard Everything

On my wedding day, I suddenly woke up able to hear everyone's real thoughts.

My husband's mom, Margaret Slater, smiled as she slipped a gold bangle onto my wrist—but inside, she sneered, 'This damaged goods isn't fit to set foot in my house.'

My husband, Ethan Moore, gazed at me with deep feeling and said I'd always be his greatest love—but inside, he was thinking, 'If it weren't for her money, who'd want a woman who's been passed around?'

My best friend, Bambi Hale, gave me a teary-eyed toast—but inside, she was laughing, 'Someone's finally taking this damaged junk off her hands!'

I smiled, raised my glass, and quietly walked to the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming to my wedding. Before we start the party, I want to share a little story with you," I said.

The room went silent. I looked out at all those fake faces beneath the stage—and my smile grew brighter than ever.

*****

On my wedding morning, I was pulled from bed at 5 a.m. for makeup.

The makeup artist, Clara Vance, was a woman in her thirties, nails done in deep burgundy, patting and dabbing all over my face. I kept my eyes shut and let the puff go where it pleased, my head still back on the report I hadn't finished yesterday.

"Your skin looks great," Clara said. "What kind of skincare do you use?"

I was about to answer, but suddenly, I heard a voice in my head.

[This foundation costs 90 dollars a bottle. What a waste on her face. And look at those pores—they're like an orange peel. You can't even cover them up.]

I froze for a second and opened my eyes.

She was beaming at me, but her lips never moved.

"Just... whatever I have on hand," I replied.

"Must be natural, then." Her smile grew even sweeter.

[Natural, my foot. She definitely didn't sleep well last night. The bags under her eyes could kill a mosquito. Hurry up and finish so I can get to my next appointment. That one's in the fancy neighborhood—I hear they give out huge tips.]

I stared at her face for a few seconds. Her lips hadn't moved.

Maybe I'm just exhausted. I hadn't gotten to bed until midnight, then tossed and turned all night. Four hours of sleep, tops.

I closed my eyes again.*****

At seven, my bridesmaids showed up.

My girl gang was four—three college friends and Jade Keller, my lifelong ride-or-die. They packed the makeup room, nonstop hyping me up.

"Wow, you look insanely gorgeous today!" Bambi squealed, shoving her phone in my face to snap a bunch of pics.

[Gorgeous, my ass. Her makeup's so thick you could use it as mortar. And that wedding dress? It's last year's outdated model. When I got married, I rocked fresh-off-the-runway couture.]

I turned to look at her.

She edited photos on her phone, grumbling, "Ugh, this lighting sucks."

"Bambi," I called out.

"Hmm?" she looked up, giving me that typical worried friend look.

"...It's nothing," I replied.

At eight, the wedding cars pulled up outside.

I sat on the bed in my wedding gown, waiting for the groom to come get me. The bridesmaids crowded by the door, giggling and demanding red envelopes for good luck.

Ethan called from outside the door, "Open up! I brought the cash gifts!"

[God, what's with all this blocking the door? So annoying. Let's just get this over with. This wedding is such a waste of time.]

I sat bolt upright.

That was Ethan's voice. He was the one thinking that.

But he was outside, behind two closed doors. There was no way I could hear him that clearly.

And besides... that tone, those words—they didn't sound like him at all.

Ethan had always been gentle and slow to speak. He never cursed. In the three years we'd been together, the strongest thing I'd ever heard him say was "That's not very nice."

"Don't get too excited, bride-to-be!" Bambi said, pressing me back down. "Let them work for it!"

[Excited about what? It's not like she's never seen a man before. I was way more composed at my wedding. Look at her—she's practically throwing herself at him.]

There it was again.

It was Bambi's voice, echoing straight through my mind, just like before.

I sat back down slowly, my fingers clenching the bedsheet.

Outside, Ethan called out again, "Open up, baby! I miss you!"

[Miss her? Please. I see her every damn day, and I'm sick of it. If she didn't have money, who'd want a woman who's been passed around?]

The blood drained from my body.

"Baby" was for me. And that voice... that voice was his, too.

I could actually hear what he was thinking.

I could hear what was truly on his mind.

The door was flung open.

Ethan rushed in, crisp in his suit, hair shellacked with hairspray, grinning like crazy. He dropped to one knee, held out the bouquet, and said, "Amara, I'm here to marry you!"

Chapter 1

On my wedding day, I suddenly woke up able to hear everyone's real thoughts.

My husband's mom, Margaret Slater, smiled as she slipped a gold bangle onto my wrist—but inside, she sneered, 'This damaged goods isn't fit to set foot in my house.'

My best friend, Bambi Hale, gave me a teary-eyed toast—but inside, she was laughing, 'Someone's finally taking this damaged junk off her hands!'

I smiled, raised my glass, and quietly walked to the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming to my wedding. Before we start the party, I want to share a little story with you," I said.

The room went silent. I looked out at all those fake faces beneath the stage—and my smile grew brighter than ever.

*****

On my wedding morning, I was pulled from bed at 5 a.m. for makeup.

"Your skin looks great," Clara said. "What kind of skincare do you use?"

I was about to answer, but suddenly, I heard a voice in my head.

[This foundation costs 90 dollars a bottle. What a waste on her face. And look at those pores—they're like an orange peel. You can't even cover them up.]

I froze for a second and opened my eyes.

She was beaming at me, but her lips never moved.

"Just... whatever I have on hand," I replied.

"Must be natural, then." Her smile grew even sweeter.

I stared at her face for a few seconds. Her lips hadn't moved.

Maybe I'm just exhausted. I hadn't gotten to bed until midnight, then tossed and turned all night. Four hours of sleep, tops.

I closed my eyes again.*****

At seven, my bridesmaids showed up.

My girl gang was four—three college friends and Jade Keller, my lifelong ride-or-die. They packed the makeup room, nonstop hyping me up.

"Wow, you look insanely gorgeous today!" Bambi squealed, shoving her phone in my face to snap a bunch of pics.

[Gorgeous, my ass. Her makeup's so thick you could use it as mortar. And that wedding dress? It's last year's outdated model. When I got married, I rocked fresh-off-the-runway couture.]

I turned to look at her.

She edited photos on her phone, grumbling, "Ugh, this lighting sucks."

"Bambi," I called out.

"Hmm?" she looked up, giving me that typical worried friend look.

"...It's nothing," I replied.

At eight, the wedding cars pulled up outside.

I sat on the bed in my wedding gown, waiting for the groom to come get me. The bridesmaids crowded by the door, giggling and demanding red envelopes for good luck.

Ethan called from outside the door, "Open up! I brought the cash gifts!"

[God, what's with all this blocking the door? So annoying. Let's just get this over with. This wedding is such a waste of time.]

I sat bolt upright.

That was Ethan's voice. He was the one thinking that.

But he was outside, behind two closed doors. There was no way I could hear him that clearly.

And besides... that tone, those words—they didn't sound like him at all.

Ethan had always been gentle and slow to speak. He never cursed. In the three years we'd been together, the strongest thing I'd ever heard him say was "That's not very nice."

"Don't get too excited, bride-to-be!" Bambi said, pressing me back down. "Let them work for it!"

[Excited about what? It's not like she's never seen a man before. I was way more composed at my wedding. Look at her—she's practically throwing herself at him.]

There it was again.

It was Bambi's voice, echoing straight through my mind, just like before.

I sat back down slowly, my fingers clenching the bedsheet.

Outside, Ethan called out again, "Open up, baby! I miss you!"

[Miss her? Please. I see her every damn day, and I'm sick of it. If she didn't have money, who'd want a woman who's been passed around?]

The blood drained from my body.

"Baby" was for me. And that voice... that voice was his, too.

I could actually hear what he was thinking.

I could hear what was truly on his mind.

The door was flung open.

Ethan rushed in, crisp in his suit, hair shellacked with hairspray, grinning like crazy. He dropped to one knee, held out the bouquet, and said, "Amara, I'm here to marry you!"