Chapter 3

He froze for a moment, then laughed with contempt and certainty:

"Replace the groom? Where would you find one? You think life's a TV drama?"

"Everyone in Seattle knows you're mine."

"Of course, if you really have the ability to find someone who dares marry you, I wouldn't mind letting you—"

He opened the car door and tossed back a casual quip:

"Stop making a scene. Be good and wait for me to come back. Those other women, I know my limits, okay?"

The groomsmen behind me exchanged glances.

Matthew chased after him: "Xavier, you're really leaving—"

"You guys hold down the fort. It's not like I'm not coming back."

Xavier closed the car door, his voice carrying a hint of impatience,

"Windsor's too hard to deal with. I don't want to make trouble for myself."

The car started and drove off.

I stood where I was, the hem of my wedding dress lifting in the wind.

The photographer beside me held his camera, standing awkwardly. No one spoke.

I looked down at my empty ring finger on my left hand and slowly curved my lips into a smile.

Xavier, go ahead, go get your certificate.

This multi-million dollar wedding of the century—I'll gladly accept it.

I lifted my dress and walked into the church.

Guests were seated, the officiant was in position, and the wedding march was playing.

Everything was perfect, except the groom wasn't there.

Matthew caught up to me with a forced smile:

"Olivia, Xavier has an urgent matter. He'll be back soon. Just sit for a bit."

Another groomsman, Edward, also came over: "Right, right, Xavier always knows what he's doing. It's your big day today, he'll definitely be here soon."

"Exactly, Xavier never drops the ball on important things."

Several of them chimed in, making "the groom ran off" sound like he'd just gone to pick up a package.

I glanced at the clock at the front of the church. 10:40 AM.

"Okay, I'll wait for him." I calmly sent them away.

Matthew visibly relaxed and quickly had people bring me tea and water.

I'd wait. But who I was waiting for was none of their business.

This wedding had been hyped for three months.

Most of the groom's important relatives were present.

I looked around, my gaze falling on every detail.

The white rose waterfall by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the crystal bead curtains hanging from the dome.

Even the font on the guest place cards was specially designed by a designer he'd hired.

Xavier was the type who, when he did something, did it to perfection.

He was like that when he pursued me, and the same when planning the wedding.

He'd made this wedding the talk of the town, the stuff of every woman's dreams.

Yet even his infidelity was equally extreme.

No room for negotiation, no explanations.

In his logic, treating someone well and hurting that same person never conflicted.

And I only had one option: "accept it."

In the dressing room, my best friend Barbara, who'd flown from Australia to be my bridesmaid, held my dress train with an indignant expression.

"Is Xavier sick in the head? Running off to get a marriage certificate with another woman on his wedding day? Did his brain get caught in a door?"

She huffed and sat down beside me, tugging at her bridesmaid dress:

"I thought he was just talking. But even if it's true, did it have to be today?"

Her voice carried a fire of indignation on my behalf:

"When you two were planning this wedding together, he searched every flower shop in the city just to pick the perfect bouquet for you. When you tried on wedding dresses, his eyes got red faster than yours."

"I was so jealous of you I got sour and beat up my clueless boyfriend!"

She paused, her voice dropping: "Who could've imagined he'd turn around and do something like this?"