Chapter 32

Sienna’s POV

The doors of the church opened, and a hush fell over the crowd.

This was it.

I inhaled sharply, my fingers tightening around Harry’s arm as he led me down the aisle. The soft hum of whispers filled the air, a mixture of awe, shock, and, undoubtedly, judgment. Harry walking me instead of my father was already enough to set off a scandal. From the corner of my eye, I spotted my father, Victor, sitting stiffly in the front row, his hands clenched into fists. His face was a deep shade of red, his jaw locked so tight I thought it might snap. Beside him, my mother kept her expression carefully neutral, but I could see the slight twitch in her lips. She was furious.

I knew what this wedding meant for them. The media will be swooping all over my father and mother in no time, wondering how it is that a stranger—a mere bodyguard—walked me to the aisle. And then, of course, they will tell another lie to make me appear as the devil.

Why did they hate me so much? I lifted my chin. Let them be mad. They had lost their right to dictate my life a long time ago.

Then, I saw him.

Ethan.

My breath caught in my throat.

He was sitting near the front, just a few rows from my parents. He wasn’t watching the ceremony like the others. He was watching me. His gaze was intense, filled with something unreadable—regret, longing, desperation? I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to know.

I forced my eyes forward. Then, finally, I reached the altar. Max stood there, waiting. He looked annoyingly perfect, his suit crisp, his posture relaxed, like he had all the time in the world. But his eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned my face carefully, reading me like an open book.

“Finally decided to show up, huh?” He murmured, just low enough for me to hear.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I wasn’t going to miss my own wedding.”

His lips twitched slightly, like he wanted to smirk but knew better. The priest cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of Maxwell Hollandale and Sienna Brooks in holy matrimony.”

His voice echoed through the grand church, but my mind had already begun to wander. This was really happening. I was marrying Max. For a moment, I felt my body go numb. I barely registered the vows, the prayers, and the soft murmurs of the audience. Everything blurred together, my ears drowning in white noise.

Then—

The priest turned to me.

“Sienna Brooks,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “do you take Maxwell Hollandale to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Silence.

A long, suffocating silence.

My throat tightened. My heart pounded. Because at that very moment, my eyes betrayed me. They flickered back to Ethan. And just like that, the memories came rushing in.

***

I had been in my room, exhausted from all the wedding preparations, when I heard the door creak open.

I turned, expecting one of the housekeepers—

Instead, my heart stopped.

Ethan.

My ex-husband.

Standing in the doorway.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I had to see you.”

Panic shot through me. If someone saw him here, it would ruin everything.

“You can’t be here,” I hissed, stepping forward to push him out.

But he caught my wrists, holding me in place.

“Sienna, please. Just listen to me.” His voice was soft, almost pleading. It made my stomach twist.

I swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t be here.”

His grip tightened slightly. “Neither should you.”

I frowned. “What?”

“This wedding,” he said, shaking his head. “This marriage—it’s not you. You don’t love him.”

My breath hitched. He was wrong.

…Wasn’t he?

Ethan took my silence as encouragement. He let go of my wrists and cupped my face instead, his touch gentle, familiar.

“Sienna,” he murmured. “We can still fix this. You don’t have to go through with it.”

My heart pounded violently. I felt my breath stick in my throat as I warmed into him. He leaned in and breathed against my lips. I trembled to his touch as I felt his warm lips brush past mine as he drew closer, my bare legs brushing against his hardness as he tempted me to his kiss.

This was Ethan.

The man I had once loved with everything I had.

The man who had broken me.

And yet…

I had missed him.

His touch, his voice, the way he knew me in ways no one else did.

“Come back to me,” he whispered. “We can run away. Start over.”

A dangerous warmth spread through my chest. Then, slowly—too slowly—he leaned in. And for a brief, terrifying second, I almost let him. But then—

I yanked away.

“No,” I breathed.

Ethan blinked, stunned. “Sienna—”

I shook my head, stepping back. “You don’t get to do this. Not now.”

Pain flashed across his face. “But you love me.”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe I did. But not anymore.”

His jaw clenched.

“Go,” I whispered. “Before I call security.”

For a long moment, he just stood there.

Then, finally, he turned and walked away.

***

Now, standing at the altar, staring at him across the church, my mind reeled. That morning, after I had returned from the hospital, I had received a text from him.

"It’s not too late. Leave him. Come back to me."

I had ignored it. But now, with the priest waiting, with Ethan sitting there watching, with Max standing beside me—

My body froze.

“Sienna?” the priest prompted gently.

Time dragged.

My hands clenched into fists.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

Waiting.

Expecting.

And then—

I lifted my chin.

“Yes.”

The word left my lips before I even had time to think.