She Said Yes At The Wrong Venue

I stumbled home, the world a blur. I locked the door behind me and collapsed onto the sofa, crying until my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen shut.

When I first suggested the cliffside villa for our wedding, Julian had smiled gently. "Of course, darling. Whatever you want."

I thought he understood. It was where we'd met. It was where, on a dark, rainy night, I'd been in a horrific car accident while rushing an urgent file to him.

When the truck slammed into my car, my first instinct wasn't to protect myself, but the documents he needed. The scars crisscrossing my skin were a permanent reminder of that choice.

In the hospital, he had wept while clutching my hand. He stayed by my side for three days and nights without sleep, promising me a lifetime of devotion.

I realized now those promises were worthless.

My phone buzzed while I was still curled up in a ball of misery. Julian's voice came through the line over a cacophony of music and laughter. He was clearly at a party.

"I have a business dinner tonight, won't be home," he said briskly.

The line went dead before I could even whisper a reply.

Shortly after midnight, a call from my best friend, Chloe Grant, woke me from a fitful sleep.

She sent me a screenshot of Julian's latest Instagram post.

In the photo, Scarlett was pressed intimately against his chest, the snowy mountains of Aspen a stunning backdrop. His hand rested possessively on her waist.

Someone had commented, "Dude, you're getting married. Don't you think this is crossing a line?"

Julian hadn't bothered to explain. He simply replied: "If Audrey can't handle this, she doesn't deserve to be a Vanderbilt."

He had hidden the post from my feed. He knew it would gut me, and he posted it anyway.

Chloe's voice was sharp with fury. "He's about to get married, and he's shamelessly flaunting another woman online. Audrey, you can't marry him."

"I know," I said flatly, and hung up.

My mind was a calm, cold sea. I was done with him.

A few days later, I went to the hospital for a follow-up on my skin graft surgery.

When I walked into the exam room alone, the doctor did a double-take. "No one came with you today?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

I had spent my entire recovery in the hospital alone. Julian hadn't called once.

One afternoon, I was walking down the hallway to the pharmacy when I saw Julian carefully guiding Scarlett by the elbow.

He was speaking in that soft, gentle voice he rarely used with me anymore. "The doctor said your tests all came back normal. You're fine."

Scarlett leaned against him, her voice weak. "But my head still hurts so much. Are you sure he wasn't just trying to placate me?"

"I'll take you home," he said patiently. "I'll clear my schedule for the next few days to stay with you."

I watched them walk away and let out a short, cold laugh.

When I finally returned to our apartment, it was empty and silent. It wasn't until the third day that Julian came back.

He froze when he saw me, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face before he straightened his tie and his posture. "I've been slammed. Things at the office have been non-stop."

I scoffed. "Maybe you should wash her perfume off your collar before you spin that lie."

He flinched.

"And check your pocket," I added coolly. "You're still carrying the receipt for the luxury handbag you bought for Scarlett."

"Are you following me?" His eyes flashed, turning bloodshot.

"I wasn't following you," I said calmly. "The hospital you took her to for her 'migraine' is the same one where I get my skin grafts treated."

Some of the anger drained from his face. "You… you had a follow-up?"

"Yes. I told you about it. You forgot," I replied.

He sneered, "Well, you look like you're recovering just fine without me."

"I am," I said. "I'm not some delicate flower."

Something in him snapped. He jabbed a finger at me, his voice rising. "What the hell is wrong with you? Scarlett is all alone in Boston. She was sick! What's wrong with me taking care of a friend? You're about to marry into the Vanderbilt family. If you're this petty, how can I ever count on you to stand by my side and face the shareholders?"

I looked down, a bitter smile twisting my lips. "I'm all alone in this city, too."

I had given up a burgeoning career in another city to move to Boston for him, betting everything on the belief that he was a man who would cherish me.

His expression tightened, and he mumbled, "You're different. You have me…"

Just then, his phone rang. Scarlett's suppressed sobs echoed from the speaker.

The anger on Julian's face melted away, replaced instantly by an expression of pure panic. "Don't cry. What happened?"

"The power's out," she whimpered. "I'm so scared…"

"It's okay. Don't move. I'm on my way," he said hurriedly.

He grabbed his coat and threw the door open, then paused to glare back at me. "If you so much as lay a hand on Scarlett out of jealousy, don't blame me for what comes next."

He was gone.

I had more important things to do than waste a single thought on Scarlett.

I glanced at the countdown on my phone. Three days until the wedding.

I messaged the wedding planner, confirming every last detail. Everything was proceeding exactly as planned.

In three days, the moonlight over the cliffside villa would be more beautiful than ever.