Chapter 3

After I hung up with Mr. Smith, I took my suitcases to a hotel near work.

I'd barely checked in when my phone lit up.

Derek had posted something.

It was the photo from yesterday—the three of us.

Except Joan and Derek were front and center, grinning like a couple.

I'd been cropped almost completely out.

Just one blurry shoulder left.

His caption said:

[Some places aren't yours just because you're standing in them. Thanks, Joan, for always choosing me.]

Our mutual friends had already jumped into the comments.

[Wow. If I didn't know better, I'd think Derek was the groom.]

[Joan really does treat Derek better than everyone else. Same as always.]

[Best friend? Dude gets more attention than the actual groom.]

I stared at the comments.

It was almost funny.

I wasn't mad anymore.

I just felt cold.

I screenshotted the post, then grabbed a cab to Joan's office.

I opened the CEO's office door and found them sitting way too close, sharing the same takeout.

Joan picked up a piece of food and fed it straight to Derek.

The second she saw me, her hand froze.

"Why didn't you knock?"

She pulled back fast and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

I walked to the desk and looked at Derek's hand.

My custom wedding band was still on his finger.

Covered in sauce and crumbs.

I stared at it. "Could you at least be careful when you eat?"

Derek blinked like he had no clue what I was talking about and wiped the ring with a napkin.

"My finger's still swollen. I can't get it off. You don't mind that it got a little dirty, right?"

Joan frowned, instantly taking his side.

"It's just grease. Once the swelling goes down, he'll take it off and get it cleaned."

"Did you seriously come all the way here just to start something over this?"

I pulled up his post and held out my phone.

"Tell him to delete it."

Joan barely glanced at the screen before pushing my hand away.

"They're joking. Why are you making it such a big deal?"

"Derek's done a lot for us. What's wrong with him posting one picture?"

She'd said almost the same thing before.

Except back then, she'd gone off on our friends for making me the joke.

Now she was the one helping them humiliate me.

I lowered my phone.

"Joan Quinton, let's postpone the wedding."

The office went dead silent.

Derek rubbed his nose, pretending to be shocked.

Joan shot to her feet, furious.

"Are you insane? The invitations are already out, and now you want to postpone it?"

"You think threatening me with the wedding is gonna make me put up with your tantrums?"

She pointed at the door. "Get out. Go cool off and stop embarrassing yourself."

I looked at her for a second, then turned and left.

The second I stepped outside, HR called.

"Clint, have you decided about the three-year assignment at our overseas branch? There's only one opening, and you need to sign today."

I looked up at the blinding sun.

"I'll sign."

Back at the hotel, a credit card alert popped up.

Five figures.

From the fanciest watch store in the city.

And the watch?

The exact limited-edition one Derek had liked in a post the day before.