Chapter 2

Shawn began massaging my shoulders just like he always did, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Come on, babe, you aren't seriously jealous of someone with the mental capacity of a ten-year-old, are you? Tell you what, let's find some time in the next couple of days to go sign the papers and make it official. As for the wedding, we can always have it once her condition stabilizes."

Disappointment washed over me, and I pulled away from his touch.

"She's sick, but what does that have to do with us?"

A deep, unshakable guilt settled over Shawn's features.

"Wendy's mental health took a turn for the worse after I forced her to leave the country. When she found out we got engaged, she got into an accident while drinking. It took her over a year of recovery just to get to this point.

"I ruined her life, Rory. I have to take responsibility for her."

It was an announcement, not a discussion.

I knew Shawn too well, which was exactly why the absolute, unyielding certainty in his voice cut so deep.

That very night, Shawn informed his family and posted on social media to confirm the wedding was off.

It wasn't long before my dad called, his voice full of suppressed rage.

"Rory, what is the meaning of this? Is the wedding off?"

Gripping my phone, I forced my emotions down. "Yeah. It's off for now."

When Shawn had overheard that I had a falling out with my family, he didn't realize it was just something my dad had said out of sheer anger because I refused to hold the wedding at Northstar City.

Trapped in the memories of our past, I couldn't sleep a wink that night.

When Shawn first found out that I had feelings for him too, he had been so ecstatic he wanted to shout it to the entire world.

My dad hadn't approved of us at first because he already had the perfect son-in-law in his mind.

Despite the hurdle, Shawn never complained. Instead, he channeled every ounce of his energy into proving his worth.

Even back when he still believed I came from an ordinary family, he never treated me with a shred of disrespect or held any sense of superiority.

Shawn used to say, "It's just because I'm not good enough yet to make your dad happy,"

Everyone knew that Shawn had entirely made up his mind to marry me.

He had gradually transformed from an arrogant, reckless boy into a grounded, dependable man.

It was only after he proved himself by achieving real success at Vance Group that my dad finally gave him a warm reception. On the day of our engagement, Shawn had been so overwhelmed with emotion that he cried.

"Don't worry, Mr. Kingsley. I promise I will never let Rory suffer a single day of unhappiness."

And he had truly lived up to that promise.

Shawn had always maintained incredibly strict boundaries with other women, shutting down any hint of ambiguity, and putting me first in absolutely everything.

But when Wendy came back, he broke his promise.

The next morning, Shawn walked out of Wendy's bedroom with dark circles under his eyes.

Catching the stunned look on my face, he offered an awkward explanation. "She feels really insecure. She needs someone to soothe her before she can fall asleep."

Brushing past him, I walked into the walk-in closet, wanting to safely store away the wedding dress that had been prepped earlier.

However, the display rack was completely empty.

A sudden, terrible premonition flared up in my chest.

Laughter drifted up from downstairs. There was Wendy, wearing my wedding dress, completely absorbed in making a painting.

The hemline had been hacked short, and the fabric was smeared with a chaotic blend of different paints, entirely unrecognizable from what it used to be.

A deafening roar filled my ears.

That dress had been meticulously designed for me by my late mother, refined over many iterations.

It wasn't just a keepsake she had left behind for me, but a mother's profound love and blessings for her daughter.

And now, it was completely ruined.

She twirled around in front of me, looking at me with pure defiance.

Her eyes were entirely clear, devoid of even a hint of simplicity. In that moment, I saw through it all.

"Hey, bad woman, what do you think of my dress?

"Isn't it pretty with all these colors?"

I clenched my fists, a wave of fury rushing straight to my head.

"Take it off!"

She paid me no attention, picking up more paint and continuing to smear it over the fabric.

"Why should I? No way! Shawn slept with me last night and he told me that this place is my home now, and everything here can be mine."

I lunged forward, grabbing Wendy by the hair, and slapped her hard across the face, twice.

"Ahhh! Shawn, save me!" she shrieked, bursting into tears.

"I said, take it off!"

Her long acrylic nails scratched and clawed at my hands, but I refused to let go. Just as I raised my hand to strike her again, Shawn caught my wrist.

Wendy shrank into his embrace as if terrified out of her wits. She pointed at me and cried that I was trying to kill her.

Shawn looked at me defensively. "It's just a piece of clothing. What kind of madness has possessed you to start hitting people?"

I was shaking so hard from rage that I could barely breathe.

"She's faking her illness!"

Shawn didn't believe me.

But as his eyes followed my gaze back to the dress Wendy was wearing, his expression instantly froze.