Chapter 1

After taking care of everything at the hospital, I returned to the small hall we'd set up for the wedding.

All the guests had already left.

A large wedding sign hung in the center of the room. I'd put it up myself the night before, carefully adjusting it until it was perfectly straight.

Mom had always said that everything should be done properly on a wedding day. She believed it would bring good luck for the life that followed.

The cake she'd picked out was still sitting on the table, its frosting already starting to melt. The layers had begun to slump into a sticky mess, and somehow, they looked exactly how I felt.

I took off my tuxedo jacket and began cleaning up the mess without thinking.

Halfway through, Yvonne Hurst and Colin Lowell finally arrived. They were carrying a bag from that trendy bakery everyone had been talking about.

"Nathan, we're back! We even picked out a low-sugar cake for Ms. Brooks. It's one of their specialties—"

Colin's cheerful voice died the moment he stepped inside.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, staring around the empty room in confusion. "Weren't we supposed to be having a wedding? Why is the place completely empty?"

Yvonne frowned too. "Hey, Nathan. Colin's asking you a question. Where did everyone go?"

I said nothing.

Sensing the tension in the room, Colin tried to smooth things over.

"Nathan, is Ms. Brooks upset?" he asked, his voice tentative. "It's my fault. I didn't manage my time properly. Yvie only came with me to pick up the cake, so—"

"Colin, don't overthink it," Yvonne cut him off, turning to reassure him instead. "Ms. Brooks is so kind. Even if she finds out, she won't blame us."

Her words pierced me like a needle, making my eyes sting.

Of course Mom wouldn't blame him. She'd spent her entire life making excuses for people like them.

Ten years ago, when Yvonne's parents were going through a bitter divorce, no one was there for her. She had collapsed from a perforated ulcer, and Mom drove her to the hospital through a heavy downpour.

The hospital demanded a deposit before they would treat her, so Mom put down two months' worth of her own salary without hesitation.

Later, afraid that Yvonne would feel embarrassed or indebted to her, Mom simply smiled and said, "I'm your teacher. Helping you is what I'm supposed to do, so don't feel pressured to pay me back. You're going to do great things someday, Yvie. You can pay me back when you're back on your feet."

Yvonne lay in that hospital bed clutching Mom's hand. She cried for a long time, promising that she would repay her kindness someday.

From then on, Yvonne became a regular at our house.

She was always the first to show up during the holidays. Whenever Mom was sick, she'd worry more than I did. Even our relatives used to praise her, saying she cared about Mom like she was her own daughter.

But in the end, she couldn't even keep up the act when it mattered most.

I tossed my tuxedo jacket over a chair.

"The wedding is off," I said, my voice so hoarse that it barely sounded like me. "And there won't be another one."

Yvonne froze for a moment before letting out a cold laugh.