Chapter 1

On the most luxurious stretch of Frosa's Virellis Lane, I looked down at the dozen wedding plans Dad had just sent me.

My fingers paused over the final message.

"I always knew you and Jack wouldn't last. A man who truly wants to marry you doesn't keep you waiting for ten years. You're realizing it now, and that's good enough. The wedding is in three days. Take your time packing."

Everything seemed so clear from the outside. Still, I'd been adrift in Jack's empty promises.

"I like whatever you think is best. Just keep it simple," I replied.

I hadn't realized Jack was behind me until I heard his startled voice. "Wedding? What wedding?"

He tried to look at my phone screen, but I quickly locked it and tucked it away. Just as he reached to grab it, the office phone rang.

In the stillness of the evening, I heard a soft Galish accent on the other end of the line. "Darling, I just landed. The Frosa skyline is stunning, but I'm a little scared. Can you come get me?"

Jack's expression tensed instantly. "Emily, don't worry. Wait for me in the hotel lobby. I'll be right there."

The wedding conversation vanished from his mind the moment he hung up. He grabbed his jacket without a second thought and rushed into the night to pick up Emily Clay. She was the one who had transformed from his first love to "just a friend"—the one with royal blood from Galoria.

After he left, I called my godmother to say goodbye.

My parents had moved to Eclana ten years ago, and I had been living with my godmother ever since.

She had noble lineage and lived in a white stone house in the Royal District.

That summer, Jack Dickinson and I became neighbors.

That was where our story began—just beyond that garden gate.

Jack, the aristocrat, had pursued me relentlessly. Even though I had no title or noble family, he had claimed he wanted to marry me.

Later, my godmother got married and moved to Braledo, so she sold the house. I didn't want to intrude on her new life, so I moved in with Jack.

I hadn't expected that living arrangement to stretch into ten years. After her husband passed away, my godmother moved back. Although I still lived with Jack, we often had dinner together. She thought well of him.

When I told her I was getting married, she let out a surprised gasp. "Married? To Jack? Well, it's about time. Ten years is long enough. You two need closure."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. "No. It's an arranged marriage. My parents set it up. I don't even know the guy."

My godmother fell silent. It was a long pause before she finally said, "Are you sure about this? Jack might still be working his way up, but he really loves you. I could talk to him, if you want."

I gave her a faint smile. "No need. It's not really love anyway. We never even officially dated. It's just ten years of being in limbo. If I don't end it now, I'll waste the rest of my youth on uncertainty."

That was when she understood. After a decade together, Jack and I had never even defined what we were. She stopped trying to talk me out of it and simply said she would support my decision.

Before turning off my phone, I set a countdown for three days.

The next day, I asked my parents to send over some luxury goods as a gesture of thanks for my godmother's years of care, and also a quiet goodbye.

That evening, the delivery finally arrived. I had the driver bring it to her house. But as I was heading downstairs, I ran into Jack.

Emily trailed behind him, all sweet and coy. They had just returned from the supermarket, and right on top of the bag were condoms. The two of them were laughing and chatting, looking every bit like a couple about to move in together.

It looked like our story was always meant to end here, after all.