Chapter 4

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Serena stared at the ring in her palm.

Ryan stared at me.

His mother stopped crying.

Daniel was the first person to react.

He laughed.

A short, shocked sound.

“Daniel,” Mom whispered.

“What?” He looked at Ryan. “Seems reasonable to me.”

Ryan's face hardened.

“Natalie, stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“You're angry.”

“I was.”

His expression changed.

“You were?”

“About eight years ago.”

I almost said the words aloud.

Instead, I smiled.

“About an hour ago.”

“Natalie, I know you're hurt.”

“You brought your pregnant mistress to our wedding.”

Serena flinched.

“I'm not his mistress.”

I looked at her.

“No?”

Her cheeks reddened.

“Ryan and I aren't—”

“You're pregnant with his child.”

“It only happened once.”

That almost impressed me.

The same lies.

The exact same lies.

Had they practiced them?

Ryan stepped between us.

“Enough.”

I looked at him.

“Yes. It is.”

I reached up and removed my veil.

Mom gasped.

“Natalie.”

I handed it to her.

“I'm sorry, Mom.”

Ryan grabbed my wrist.

“Put it back on.”

The room went silent.

I looked at his hand.

In my first life, Ryan had grabbed me like this countless times.

Never hard enough to leave bruises.

He'd been careful about that.

Just hard enough to remind me that he expected obedience.

“Let go.”

“Natalie, we're getting married in twenty minutes.”

“No. We're not.”

His fingers tightened.

Daniel moved immediately.

“Take your hand off my sister.”

Ryan released me.

“This is between Natalie and me.”

“Not when you're putting your hands on her.”

“Daniel,” Dad warned.

I touched Daniel's arm.

“It's okay.”

“No, it isn't.”

I looked at my brother.

In another life, he was dead.

Because of them.

The rage returned so violently I could taste it.

But I couldn't destroy Ryan today.

I had no evidence.

No proof.

Only memories of things that hadn't happened yet.

I needed to be careful.

“Ryan,” I said, “you should marry Serena.”

“I don't want to marry Serena.”

Serena's face went white.

Beautiful.

For the first time that morning, something genuinely hurt her.

Ryan noticed too late.

“I didn't mean—”

“No,” I interrupted. “You were perfectly clear.”

Serena looked down.

His mother hurried toward her.

“Sweetheart, Ryan is under enormous pressure.”

I almost laughed.

Sweetheart.

She'd called Serena that at my wedding too.

I should have noticed.

How many things had I refused to see?

Ryan dragged a hand through his hair.

“Natalie, I love you.”

“No, you don't.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Then live with it.”

“You're really going to throw away ten years because of one night?”

There it was.

The guilt.

I remembered it so well.

Ten years.

Our history.

Everything we'd built.

Every time I tried to leave during our marriage, Ryan reminded me how much time I'd already invested in him.

As though wasting ten years meant I owed him another ten.

“No,” I said. “I'm going to make sure I don't throw away any more.”

His face changed.

“Natalie—”

“Enough.”

Grandpa's voice silenced the room.

Everyone turned.

My grandfather walked toward us.

For one horrible second, memories overwhelmed me.

His funeral.

Ryan's hand around mine.

Serena standing at the back of the church.

The closed coffin.

I swallowed.

Grandpa stopped in front of Ryan.

“Did my granddaughter know about this child before today?”

Ryan hesitated.

“No, sir.”

“Did you?”

Another hesitation.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Three months.”

Grandpa's expression became glacial.

Three months.

I hadn't known that.

In my first life, I'd never asked.

Grandpa looked at Ryan's father.

“And your family?”

Mr. Coleman cleared his throat.

“We found out recently.”

“Recently when?”

“About six weeks ago.”

Mom made a small sound.

Dad's jaw clenched.

They had all known.

The Colemans had attended our engagement dinner two weeks ago.

Ryan's mother had helped Mom finalize the seating plan.

They'd smiled in our faces while hiding Serena.

Grandpa turned to me.

“Do you want to marry him?”

Last time, nobody had asked me so plainly.

Or perhaps they had and I'd been too afraid of the answer.

“No.”

Ryan stepped forward.

“She doesn't mean that.”

Grandpa didn't even look at him.

“I wasn't asking you.”

Something inside me loosened.

“No, Grandpa. I don't want to marry him.”

“Then you won't.”

Ryan stared at him.

“Mr. Bennett, with respect, three hundred guests are already downstairs.”

“Then they'll eat the food and go home.”

“This will become public.”

Grandpa shrugged.

“Then perhaps you should have considered that before arriving at my granddaughter's wedding with another woman carrying your child.”

I wanted to hug him.

Ryan looked at Dad.

“Mr. Bennett?”

Dad was silent for a moment.

Then he looked at me.

“If you're certain.”

“I am.”

He nodded.

“Then that's enough for me.”

Ryan's composure finally cracked.

“You're all being ridiculous.”

Daniel took a step forward.

“Careful.”

“No, I'm serious. Natalie and I have been together for ten years. She's upset and humiliated, and all of you are encouraging her to make a life-changing decision while she's emotional.”

My nails dug into my palm.

Ryan turned to me.

“You'll regret this.”

I smiled.

That was one thing I knew with absolute certainty.

“No. I won't.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You think you can just walk downstairs and announce that the wedding is cancelled?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

“Then I live my life.”

Ryan laughed.

There was nothing amused about it.

“You're twenty-eight, Natalie. Every person who matters in this city is downstairs. By tonight, everyone will know you walked away from a ten-year relationship at the altar because you couldn't accept one mistake.”

“One pregnant mistake.”

His mouth tightened.

“Fine. Walk away.”

He gestured toward the door.

“But don't fool yourself into thinking some other man in our world is going to rush in and marry you after this spectacle.”

I stared at him.

And suddenly remembered the guest list.

One name.

One man Ryan had personally argued against inviting.

A man Grandpa had insisted belonged there.

Dominic Sullivan.

I slowly smiled.

Ryan's expression faltered.

“You're right,” I said.

He frowned.

I picked up my bouquet.

“Why cancel the wedding at all?”