Chapter 2

A wave of cheers swept over us, and every pair of eyes in the room turned to Lucas and me.

I said nothing. I looked at him standing a few steps away.

The moment our eyes met, he glanced away, uneasy, and looked at Ella beside him.

As I watched him glance almost instinctively at Ella, something in my chest snapped.

"Don't joke about it.

"The bride and groom are over there." I lifted my chin toward Lucas and Ella. "You're cheering for the wrong people."

The room went quiet. Everyone turned to Ella. She'd shrunk behind Lucas, clutching his sleeve, her eyes red.

Lucas's expression slowly darkened. His voice was low and angry. "Freya, didn't we settle this earlier? Why are you bringing it up again?"

It was almost funny. My mouth twisted into a smile, but my eyes were already burning.

All these years, I'd been the only one left looking like a fool.

The day his first bonus came in, he went straight to the jewelry counter and bought that limited-edition bracelet.

Everyone assumed it was for me. All I got was a strawberry cake with a markdown sticker on it.

The day I had appendicitis, I took a cab to the ER alone, signed my own forms, and paid my own bill. After all that, I looked through the observation room window and saw him sitting at Ella's bedside.

Even today at the venue, the pity in the wedding planners' eyes had made me feel like a joke.

I thought back on it all and fought to hold back my tears.

Just then, Ella raised her head, her eyes red and her voice choked with tears. "Freya, I'm sorry... I never wanted to take anything from you... I just envy you so much.

"Don't be angry with Lucas. This is all my fault..."

Then she started crying.

Lucas instinctively stepped in front of her. "Leave her alone!

"I know you're upset, but I already explained it to you. Why do you have to do this in front of all these people?"

He took a breath and his voice dropped. "Freya. Apologize to Ella."

Bitterness rose in me as I watched him stand between us.

He used to do this for me. Whenever a client gave me a hard time, he'd step in without hesitation and take the brunt of it.

He'd drop everything at work the minute I said I felt sick, drive nearly 200 miles to get back to me, and refuse to leave my side.

He'd cried when I burned my arm while cooking and promised I'd never have a hard day again as long as he lived.

1,000 little things like that had convinced me he was the one. So whenever he took Ella's side, I told myself he was just being kind.

Now I was looking into the eyes that used to make my heart skip a beat, and all I saw was a stranger.

I gave a small smile but said nothing. Then I turned to pick up my bag from the couch.

He reached me in one stride and caught my wrist. "Did you hear me? Apologize."

"All right." I nodded, turned back, and gave Ella a polite smile. "I'm sorry."

Then I took the ring off my finger and held it out to her. "You should have this too. I hope you're very happy together."

Lucas stared at the ring on the floor for two seconds. His expression finally shifted, and he lifted his head.

"Freya, what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm congratulating you. Wasn't that clear enough?"

His expression changed, and he blocked my way. "Do you know what people will think of her after this? They'll call her a homewrecker. They'll say she came between us. Do you think she can handle that?

"Ella's been an orphan since she was little. Do you have any idea how hard it's been for her to get this far on her own? You don't have to feel sorry for her, but did you have to humiliate her in public? How is she supposed to hold her head up after this?"

He stared at me like he was interrogating me.

I opened my mouth, but my throat was raw. No words came out.

Six months ago, on the night my mother was in critical care, he said he had to help Ella prepare for an interview. I sat alone in that hospital corridor until four in the morning.

When I finally got him on the phone, the first thing he said was, "Freya, can you stop calling in the middle of the night? Ella was nervous. It took her forever to fall asleep."

Last year, I started knitting his birthday scarf three months in advance.

The night before his birthday, he said Ella wasn't doing well and he had to be with her.

I sat on the couch all night.

He came back at dawn wearing a scarf Ella had knitted. The stitches were crooked, but he hadn't taken it off the whole way home.

I unraveled mine afterward, wound the yarn into a ball, and threw it all in the trash.

Standing there watching him worry about her, I suddenly felt exhausted.

The tears finally spilled down my face.

I raised a hand to wipe them away.

Panic flashed in his eyes when he saw me crying. "Freya... That isn't what I meant. I just..."

He stepped forward and reached for my shoulder.

I turned aside and stepped back, away from him.

I took a breath, and my voice caught. "Lucas. Cancel the wedding."