Past Due Love

When everyone else doubted me, only Cole stood by my side.

When someone tried to hurt me, he was the one who protected me.

Even when the media spread false stories, claiming I had schemed to seduce him, he didn't hesitate to speak up, publicly declaring that it was he who had pursued me, regardless of his lofty status.

Once, when a thug tried to attack me, Cole beat him within an inch of his life. He was seriously injured in the process, but still shielded me with his own body.

And yet, the man who once loved me so deeply… suddenly stopped loving me.

Everything that once felt like happiness had vanished.

Cole might have forgotten. Or maybe it never mattered to him in the first place.

Back when we were together, I'd once told him, "If you ever stop loving me, just tell me. I won't cling to you. But if you deceive me, I'll leave. And after that, we'll never see each other again."

"Lisa, what are you doing just standing there? The dresses are here. Come try them on."

The door opened and Cole walked in, grasping my hand and leading me toward the living room.

I followed him, but then… I saw a faint smudge of lipstick on his collar.

I stopped walking.

He turned to look at me, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

My eyes searched his face. He looked so innocent, so unaware. I gave a small shake of my head.

What would be the point of saying anything? To argue? To cry?

No. I didn't want that.

I just wanted to leave quietly.

In the living room, the staff were waiting, holding three wedding dresses. All custom-made. All beautiful.

I tried on each one. None of them fit.

Cole lost his temper and lashed out at the assistant.

"Idiot! What's going on with the sizing? Don't you even know her measurements?"

The assistant lowered his head and stayed silent.

I stared at Cole and for the first time, he felt like a stranger to me.

He rarely got angry. He was always composed and measured. This was the first time I'd ever seen him explode like this.

Watching him now, using rage to cover his own carelessness, I felt a kind of bitter amusement.

Did he really think I was that naïve?

Did he think I couldn't tell who'd made the mistake?

If he truly cared, how could he get the size wrong?

He used to spoil me endlessly. Every piece of clothing he gave me fit perfectly. Mistakes like this were unthinkable in the past.

Still, I didn't call him out. Instead, I smiled.

"Forget it, Cole. Don't be angry. It's just a ceremony. Any dress will do."

He let out a long breath, relieved. "Sorry. I just wanted you to have a one-of-a-kind gown."

I shrugged. "It's fine."

So he handed me a tablet to choose a different design.

I scrolled through the options.

Next to me, he was on his phone.

Something caught his eye. His gaze lit with intense desire.

"Madam, which one do you like?" the assistant asked.

I didn't answer. I was watching Cole.

He must have felt my stare, because he put his phone away and glanced over with a faint look of guilt.

"Lisa," he said, "there's an emergency at work. I have to take care of it. Just pick whatever dress you like. I'll buy it."

Without waiting for a reply, he rushed out the door.

My expression dimmed. I smiled bitterly.

A message came. I opened it. It was a photo of the three wedding dresses that didn't fit me. All three, exactly the same.

So Cole had the wedding dresses made—for his lover.

So much for a one-of-a-kind gown.

I was never his only bride.

How greedy he'd become. He wanted a proper wife at home, but still kept mistresses outside.

There was no point in choosing a dress anymore.

It didn't matter. Because I was never going to marry him.

On the day of the wedding, the only bride who'd show up would be a dead one.