Chapter Two: He Chose Me

Amelia didn’t remember walking. Only the sensation of cold air against her skin and the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.

The garden lights blurred as she crossed the lawn. Her heels sank slightly into the grass, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t slow down. If she did, she feared she might collapse right there, in the middle of white flowers and fairy lights meant to celebrate a love that had never truly existed.

Her chest burned. Each breath felt too shallow, too sharp.

She reached the low stone wall at the edge of the property and gripped it, finally allowing herself to bend forward. Her curls fell into her face as she gasped, trying to steady herself.

Inside the house, music still played. Laughter still rang. People were still raising glasses to her happiness.

They had no idea.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob that clawed its way up her throat. Her engagement ring dug painfully into her palm. She opened her hand and stared at it. The diamond caught the light, mocking her.

How many times had Evan sworn he loved her? How many nights had she defended him against Natasha’s subtle digs? How many times had she ignored that uneasy feeling in her gut because she wanted to believe in something good?

Footsteps crunched behind her.

“Amelia!”

She straightened slowly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her father stood a few feet away, concern etched deep into his features.

“What’s wrong?” Davis asked. “People are looking for you.”

She looked at him and almost broke again. Her father, who had once carried her on his shoulders, who used to brush her hair after her mother died because he didn’t know what else to do. The same man who had slowly faded into silence as his new wife took control of the house.

“Dad,” she said, her voice trembling. “Did you know?”

His brows pulled together. “Know what?”

Her lips parted, then closed. How could she say it out loud? How could she turn this night into a public wreckage?

Before she could answer, Sylvia’s voice cut through the air.

“There you are,” her stepmother said, approaching with a tight smile. “Why are you hiding out here? Guests are asking questions.”

Natasha appeared beside her, moments later, hair perfectly arranged, lipstick flawless. If Amelia hadn’t seen her minutes ago, she might have believed the innocent act.

Natasha’s eyes flicked briefly to Amelia’s clenched fist.

Then she smiled.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked sweetly. “You look pale.”

That did it.

Something snapped inside Amelia, sharp and sudden.

She opened her hand and held up the ring. “Ask her,” she said, her gaze never leaving Natasha’s face. “Ask your daughter why my engagement just ended in one of the guest rooms.”

Sylvia’s smile faltered. “What are you talking about?”

Davis looked between them, confusion turning to alarm. “Amelia?”

Natasha sighed, as if bored. “She’s being dramatic.”

Amelia laughed, a hollow sound. “Dramatic? You were naked with my fiancé less than ten minutes ago.”

Silence crashed down like broken glass.

Sylvia’s face drained of color. Davis took a step back.

“That’s not true,” Sylvia said quickly. “Natasha would never—”

“Wouldn’t I?” Natasha interrupted calmly. “Evan and I just… happened. These things do.”

Amelia stared at her, disbelief mixing with rage. “You don’t even deny it.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Why should I? He chose me.”

The words sliced deep.

Davis finally found his voice. “Evan?” he said hoarsely. “Is this true?”

Evan stepped out into the garden then, his shirt wrinkled, his tie crooked. He looked like a guilty child caught stealing.

“Sir,” he began. “I can explain.”

Amelia turned on him. “Don’t.”

Her voice was quiet now. Dangerous.

“You don’t get to explain,” she said. “You don’t get to touch me, or look at me, or say my name like it means anything.”

Evan reached for her arm. She pulled away instantly.

Sylvia recovered first. She always did. “This is not the place for this,” she said sharply. “People are watching.”

Amelia laughed again. “You’re worried about people watching? Your daughter slept with my fiancé. On my engagement night.”

Sylvia’s eyes hardened. “Lower your voice.”

That was it.

Amelia felt something settle inside her. Cold. Solid. Final.

“I’m done,” she said.

She slipped the ring from her finger and held it out toward Evan. He hesitated before taking it, shame flickering across his face.

“I hope it was worth it,” she told him.

Then she turned to her father. “I’m leaving.”

Davis opened his mouth, pain etched deep into his eyes. “Amelia, please—”

“I can’t stay here,” she said softly. “Not tonight. Maybe not ever.”

She didn’t wait for permission.

Amelia walked back into the house, ignoring the curious stares, the whispered questions. She climbed the stairs two at a time and went straight to her room, locking the door behind her.

Her hands shook as she pulled a suitcase from the closet.

Clothes. Shoes. Documents. Anything she could grab.

Her reflection in the mirror looked hollow now. The glow was gone. In its place stood a woman who had just learned how easily love could be stolen.

As she zipped the suitcase shut, one thought echoed louder than the rest.

She couldn’t stay in this house.

She couldn’t stay in this life.

And somewhere deep inside, beneath the heartbreak and humiliation, a reckless need began to form.

A need to forget.

Just for one night.