At My Engagement Party, My Fiancé Told Me He'd Been Cheating

I was standing in the most expensive ballroom in Boston. My mother's voice echoed in my head.

"The Harrises spared no expense, sweetheart. Every single flower was flown in from Holland. Every girl in this city would kill to be in your place."

A chill ran through me. Like I'd been dropped into ice water.

I thought back to the day Connor went for his suit fitting. He'd frowned. He'd said the one I'd picked out looked dated.

Sophia had stood next to him, smiling as she fixed his tie. "That's much better."

No wonder his mouth had curved into a smile.

He acted like nothing had happened. He opened the ring box.

Applause erupted in the ballroom.

My mother's eyes filled with tears. The Harris elders nodded their approval.

Sophia was the first one in the crowd to clap.

I looked at her and felt my stomach turn.

Connor held the ring out for a long moment. When I didn't move, he frowned and pushed it toward me again.

I extended my hand.

The applause swelled.

Then I snapped the ring box shut.

The applause died. Everyone stared.

Connor forced a smile. "Charlotte's just being playful."

He lowered his voice. "Stop."

I laughed. I laughed until I almost cried.

I was the one making a scene?

Fine. He wanted a scene.

I picked up the ring box and threw it straight at his face.

"You bastard. Get out!"

Connor glared at me. "Do you have any idea what kind of event this is? Every important name in Boston is in this room."

I cut him off.

"The engagement is off."

I took a deep breath and walked off the stage.

Chaos broke out behind me. Connor stood there, face dark, frozen. No one moved. Only Sophia ran after me.

"Charlotte."

She caught me in the hallway and grabbed my hand. Her voice was frantic. "Charlotte, what happened? You're scaring me."

"Did Connor do something? Tell me. I'll tear him a new one."

She said it so naturally.

So naturally that for a split second I almost remembered the Sophia from years ago. The one who used to stand in front of me on the playground and tell the bullies if they hit me, she'd hit them back twice as hard.

But what came to mind instead was last week. Sophia on my couch, legs crossed, voice low and teasing.

"Charlotte, have you ever met a guy you just can't get out of bed for?"

I came back to myself and pulled my hand away. I looked down at her, and saw the bruise on her collarbone. Something stabbed at me all over again.

Connor wouldn't sleep with me. He said he wanted to wait until after the engagement.

I'd thought it was love. I'd thought it was respect.

Charlotte, you idiot.

I gave her a thin smile. "This guy you can't get out of bed for… It's Connor. Isn't it."

Sophia's hand flew to her mouth.

"He told you? That's why you just..." Her voice cut off.

She blinked, and tears spilled out.

"I had no idea he was going to just say it." Her voice broke. "I didn't mean for this, Charlotte. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear."

"Sophia. Do I look stupid to you?"

Her face went pale.

"Aren't you exhausted from the act?"

She bit her lip. She looked up at me and grabbed my shoulders. I flinched back on instinct.

There was a sharp tearing sound. She fell, taking my dress down with her.

The dress ripped. My shoulder was bare.

I heard footsteps rushing toward us.

Connor's eyes lingered on my bare shoulder for one second. Then he bent down to help Sophia up, his voice cold.

"Charlotte. That's enough."

The guests had spilled out of the ballroom into the hallway.

My mother pushed to the front of the crowd, white-faced. She didn't say a word. She just walked over and draped her shawl around my shoulders.

The Harris elders frowned at me.

Connor pushed past me and pulled Sophia behind him.

"I'm the one who went after her," he said. "Don't take it out on her."

"If you have to take it out on someone, take it out on me. Don't push your own sister like this."

Sophia hid against his chest, crying without a sound.

And just like that, every face in the hallway turned.

Like I was the crazy one. Throwing a tantrum at my own engagement party.

No one noticed that the torn gown was the one my mother had worn on her own engagement night. The one my father had commissioned, finding the tailor himself.

It was a record of how much they'd loved each other. It was my mother's wish for my happiness.