Chapter 1

As I slipped the key into my bag, Edward reached out and pressed his hand against my wrist.

His fingertips felt cold against my wristbone, but his voice remained patient, as though he were coaxing someone who simply didn't understand. "Camellia, the renovation's almost finished. If you make a fuss now, the workers will have to redo everything. There's no need for that."

I glanced at the sunflower painting. "I never asked them to redo anything."

Edward loosened his grip slightly, apparently satisfied that I was finally being reasonable. "Good. Vicky made a special trip here today to take a look. She thought hanging this painting here would brighten up the room."

I gave a faint smile. "How thoughtful of her."

"She has an eye for these things." Edward pulled out his phone to reply to a message, his thumb darting across the screen. "Unlike you, always clinging to the past."

The past…

The painting my mother had left me was nothing more than a relic of the past in his eyes, something he could replace on a whim.

The designer stood nearby, visibly uncomfortable. She clutched her tablet and asked quietly, "Mr. Foxworth, should we still use the champagne-colored bedding Miss Sonnier picked out for the master bedroom?"

Edward didn't even look up. "Yes. She's a light sleeper, so avoid anything too dark."

The designer froze for a moment before casting a quick glance in my direction.

Only then did Edward seem to realize what he'd said. His brow twitched, but he quickly regained his composure. "I mean, she helped test the lighting. She has a better eye for these things. Don't read too much into it."

I nodded. "I'm not reading into anything."

My calm response seemed to catch him off guard. He studied my face for a moment. "What's gotten into you today?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I turned and walked into the walk-in closet.

The shelves had been lowered, and the hanging rod had been adjusted to accommodate Victoria's long dresses.

I'd mentioned before that I owned quite a few winter coats and wanted to reserve one tall section of the closet for them.

Edward had dismissed the idea, saying our home wasn't a warehouse and that I shouldn't make it look like a rental property. Yet all Victoria had to do was mention her fondness for dresses, and the entire closet had been tailored to her preferences.

I pulled open a drawer and found a small, milky-white ceramic deer inside. It wasn't mine.

Edward came over. The moment he spotted the deer, his gaze lingered briefly before he casually picked it up and returned it to its place.

"Vicky must have left it here. I'll tell her to take it home another day," he said.

I asked, "How many times has she been here?"

"It's a renovation. Of course she'd come by." His tone grew colder. "You're busy with work, so I asked her to keep an eye on things. I thought it'd save you the trouble."

"Does she have a key?"

Edward turned his phone facedown against his palm and let out a short laugh. "Camie, do you really have to make it sound like that? She's here to help, not steal from us."

I met his gaze. "I'm just asking whether she has a key."

Just then, I heard a key turn in the front door.

Victoria stepped inside with a box of desserts, as comfortable as if she were returning to her own home. "Eddie, I got you that chestnut cake you like. I picked up a piece for Camie too, since I was passing by."

She spotted me, but her smile never faltered. "Oh, did I come at a bad time?"

Edward took the bag from her with practiced ease. "Not at all. Camellia was just saying how thoughtful you are."

Victoria's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Camie, there's no need to be so formal with me. Your wedding home is a big deal, after all. Of course I want to help you two get everything just right."

My gaze dropped to the soft-soled slippers on her feet. There had been only one new pair in the shoe cabinet, pale yellow and a size smaller than mine.

Edward followed my gaze, and impatience finally crept into his voice. "They're just slippers. She comes by often, so I keep a pair here for her. It saves her the trouble of changing shoes every time."

Victoria bit her lower lip. "Maybe I should take them home. I wouldn't want Camie to feel uncomfortable."

"No need," Edward decided for her. "She's not that petty."

I lowered my head, took the key from my bag, and placed it on the entryway cabinet. "Then I might as well leave this one here too."

Edward glanced at the key, his expression darkening. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You two need it more than I do."

He stared at me for several seconds, apparently trying to decide whether I was genuinely upset or merely attempting to force him to give in again.

Victoria was the first to break the silence. "Camie, please don't misunderstand. Eddie and I have been close since we were kids. Some habits are hard to break, but we're really just friends."

Edward immediately came to her defense. "You heard her. Stop giving her such a hard time that she'll be afraid to help us again."

I picked up my bag. "Mm."

Edward caught my wrist again, his grip noticeably tighter this time. "I'll have the driver take you home. I've got a dinner tonight. And don't go calling my mother to fill her head with this nonsense while I'm gone."

I looked up at him. "What are you afraid I'll tell her?"

"I'm afraid you'll blow things out of proportion." He lowered his voice. "The wedding is only three months away. Don't embarrass both our families."

Three months… We'd been engaged for two years. When we finally set the wedding date, I'd been so happy that I'd circled it three times on my calendar.

And now, everywhere I looked in the home that was supposed to be ours, I found traces of Victoria.

The designer began packing up her things. As she walked past me, her tablet screen lit up.

I caught a glimpse of a few words in the project name field.