After My Ex Ruined My Wedding Dress, I Married His Rival

I stood at the edge of the rooftop terrace, looking out over Manhattan. The city stretched away in every direction, a grid of light and glass and noise. Behind me, two hundred guests moved through the party I had spent three months planning. White orchids climbed the pergola. Candles floated in low glass bowls on every table. The caterers circulated with champagne and those little tartlets Easton's mother specifically requested. Everything was perfect.

I turned back and scanned the crowd. Easton stood near the bar, talking to his college roommate. He looked good in the suit I picked out for him. Navy, tailored, no tie. He laughed at something and the group around him laughed too. That was Easton. He made people comfortable. He made rooms feel easy.

I checked my phone. No messages. I checked the seating chart one more time, even though I had memorized it weeks ago. Aitana Larson was at table seven. Far from the center. Far from us. I had been careful about that.

My best friend Delphine appeared at my elbow with two glasses of champagne. She handed me one. "You did it," she said. "This is beautiful."

"Thanks." I took a sip. It was good champagne. Easton's father, Saul Wallace, didn't do anything halfway.

"You nervous?" Delphine asked.

I shook my head. "No. I'm ready."

She looked at me for a long moment, then squeezed my hand. "Okay."

The DJ lowered the music. That was my cue. I crossed the terrace toward the microphone stand set up near the center. Guests turned. Conversations quieted. Easton looked up from the bar and smiled at me. I smiled back.

I reached for the microphone.

Then I saw Easton's face change. He pulled his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and his whole posture shifted. He looked toward table seven. I followed his gaze.

Aitana sat alone, her head down, her shoulders curved inward. She was crying.

I watched Easton put his phone away. I watched him say something to his college roommate. I watched him cross the terrace, past me, past the microphone, past two hundred people who had come to celebrate us.

He sat down beside Aitana.

The terrace went quiet in a different way. Not the anticipatory quiet of a moment before a toast. Something else. Something awkward.

I stood there with my hand on the microphone stand. Easton leaned close to Aitana. He said something I couldn't hear. She shook her head. He touched her shoulder. She turned into him slightly and he wrapped his arm around her.

I had seen this before. Not at a party. Not in front of people. But I had seen it. Aitana upset about something. Easton dropping everything to comfort her. Me waiting.

I let go of the microphone stand.

Delphine was beside me instantly. "Jimena—"

"It's fine," I said.

It wasn't fine. I could feel every single person on that terrace watching. Some of them looked away quickly when I met their eyes. Some of them didn't. Easton's mother, standing near the pergola, looked at me with something that might have been pity. His father, Saul Wallace, stood completely still with a glass in his hand, his face unreadable.

I walked toward table seven. My heels clicked on the stone. Easton didn't look up until I was standing right in front of him.

"Easton," I said quietly.

He looked up. "Babe, give me a second. Aitana's really upset."

"I can see that."

Aitana looked at me. Her eyes were red but her makeup was perfect. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to ruin anything. I just—being here tonight, watching you two—it made me feel so alone. I shouldn't have come."

I looked at her for a long moment. Then I looked at Easton.

"Get up," I said.

He blinked. "What?"

"Get up. Come with me. Right now."

He glanced at Aitana, then back at me. "Jimena, she's upset. Just give me a few minutes."

I felt something inside me go very still. Very clear.

"No," I said.

Easton frowned. "What do you mean, no?"

I turned and walked back to the center of the terrace. I picked up the small velvet box sitting on the table beside the microphone. The ring box. I held it in my hand for a moment, feeling its weight.

Then I set it down again. Unopened.

I took the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," I said. My voice was steady. "I know you came here to celebrate an engagement. But there isn't going to be one."

The silence was total.

I looked at Easton. He was standing now, staring at me.

"I'm sorry you came all this way," I continued. "Please stay. Enjoy the food and the drinks. They're already paid for."

I set the microphone down and walked toward the exit. Delphine caught up with me at the elevator.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Home," I said.

The elevator doors opened. I stepped inside. Delphine got in beside me.

As the doors closed, I saw Easton push through the crowd, trying to reach me. But he was too late.

The elevator descended. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

I didn't cry.

Not once.