My Fiancé Skipped Our Engagement Party

"Lionel, I feel terribly nauseous. Could you stay by my side for a moment?"

Vivienne Powell's sultry voice could capture anyone's attention, and her enchanting figure only added to her allure. At that moment, Lionel Ross—Norah's fiancé—was right there beside her, resting a soothing hand against the small of her back.

The two were nestled close, Vivienne's seductive curves brushing against Lionel's arm. He didn't pull away. Instead, his hand stayed on her, easy and familiar. To anyone watching, they looked like a couple completely in love.

Norah Fisher stood just outside the room, taking in the scene through the cracked door. Her eyes were cold, her face unreadable. The engagement party she was supposed to be having with Lionel was already falling apart.

Norah and Lionel had been childhood sweethearts. They'd loved each other since they were ten, and after fifteen years, today was finally supposed to be their day. Lionel had always promised she was the only one he'd ever marry—that he would never betray her in this lifetime.

So when had everything changed? Maybe the moment Vivienne came back six months ago.

Norah drew a deep breath, forced her emotions down, opened the door, and walked in. The second the pair saw her, they sprang apart like they'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Norah." Lionel stood, guilt flickering beneath his calm.

Before Norah could get a word out, Vivienne cut in softly, "Norah, I'm so sorry. I wasn't feeling well, so Lionel stayed to keep me company for a little while. Please don't be upset."

Norah didn't even look at her. Her gaze locked on Lionel. "The engagement party's about to start. Are you coming?"

"Yes, of course. Today is the most important day for us," Lionel said, stepping toward her and taking her hand.

Norah pulled her hand away immediately, repulsed because his hand had just been on Vivienne's body.

Lionel paused, taken aback by her coldness. He frowned, clearly displeased.

"Let's go," she said, unfazed. She turned to leave.

But just as they started walking, Vivienne's soft whimper stopped them. Lionel turned back to find her clutching her stomach, face twisted in pain.

"Vivienne." He rushed to help her up. "Are you okay?"

Vivienne clung to his hand, wincing. "Lionel, I'll be fine. I can't keep you from your engagement party. Go. I'll be okay once I rest a little."

Lionel looked between Vivienne and Norah, torn.

"Maybe we should cancel the engagement party," Norah said coolly. She didn't need him to say it. His hesitation told her everything—he wouldn't be coming with her now.

The cold calm in Norah's voice rattled Lionel. He opened his mouth to respond, but Vivienne let out another sharp moan.

"Norah, Vivienne needs to get to the hospital right now. You go ahead to the engagement party. I'll catch up as soon as I can," Lionel said quickly, already lifting Vivienne into his arms.

Norah stared after his retreating figure, a sharp ache squeezing her chest.

Lionel had never walked away from her like this before.

But ever since Vivienne came back, everything had changed. Norah wasn't his first choice anymore. Whenever it came down to her or Vivienne, Lionel chose Vivienne. Every single time.

Vivienne glanced back, shot Norah a triumphant smile, and mouthed the words, "I won!"

Norah clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, but she couldn't feel a thing.

At the engagement party venue, the missing bride and groom had everyone buzzing.

As whispers rippled through the room, Norah walked in, calm and composed. Every eye turned to her—curious, questioning.

"Norah, where's Lionel? Why are you alone?" Hattie Ross asked, her tone more accusation than question.

Norah knew her future mother-in-law had never approved of her. The Fisher and Ross families had both once been prominent, but the Ross family's rapid rise over the years had left the Fishers far behind. The Fishers had stagnated.

Hattie had always believed Norah wasn't good enough for Lionel—not fit to be a Ross.

Norah raised her voice on purpose. "Lionel took Vivienne to the hospital. The engagement party is canceled."

A shockwave rippled through the crowd.

"What's going on with Mr. Ross and his sister-in-law?"

"Do you think Mr. Ross is leaving Norah for his brother's widow?"

"I've heard rumors about Mr. Ross and Vivienne being a little too close. Guess they were true. Why else would he be the one taking her to the hospital?"

Norah let out a soft, bitter laugh.

If everyone else could see what was going on, surely Lionel knew too. She just didn't matter to him the way she used to.

Hattie was furious when she heard people tearing her son apart. "Norah, what kind of nonsense are you spreading? Lionel took Vivienne to the hospital, but that doesn't mean he isn't coming back. Cancel the engagement party? Are you seriously willing to give up on marrying Lionel?"

Exactly.

Norah smirked.

From the moment Lionel saved her fifteen years ago, she'd sworn she would marry no one else. Even knowing his family and friends couldn't stand her, she had humiliated herself more times than she could count to win them over.

She'd made herself a laughingstock and never complained—as long as Lionel still loved her.

But Lionel had crushed her heart, too.

"I, Norah Fisher, vow that I will have nothing more to do with Lionel Ross. Consider this engagement dead and buried. If I ever look back, may I lose everything I have left."

"You—you—" Hattie sputtered, furious.

A vow was one thing. That was unforgivable. Hattie decided then and there that Norah would never be welcome in the Ross family again.

Ignoring Hattie, Norah walked out of the venue with her head high, leaving a room full of stunned faces behind.

Hattie yelled after her, "Have you looked in the mirror? Someone like you was never good enough for my son—you'll never be a Ross!"

Norah's mind flashed through every scornful word Hattie had thrown at her over the years, each memory sharper than the last.

Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

After a long second, she turned around, grabbed a glass of wine from the table, and strode straight over to Hattie—then threw it right in her face.