Staging a Car Crash to Clear My Name

Julian’s voice carried a hint of laughter.

I gripped the doorknob, my nails digging deep into my palm.

I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat.

“Babe, my stomach hurts so badly today. Can we try it on tomorrow instead?”

The line went quiet for half a beat.

“Stomach pain? Did you eat something off?”

His tone immediately softened into deep concern.

“I’ll come over and pick you up. Stay home and wait.”

“It’s okay, don’t.”

I rejected him without a second thought.

“Don’t be stubborn now. Laura took time off work to accompany you, and appointments at this boutique are hard to book.

“Besides, I really wanna see you in that mermaid dress. You’re gonna be breathtaking in it.”

Laura Crawford, my bestie’s lively, overly affectionate voice chimed in from the background.

“Hazel, hurry up and get over here! I brought you nipple covers. The back of the gown is sheer—it’s gonna be gorgeous on you!”

Sheer back fabric.

Nipple covers.

In my past life, I had handed them their opportunity on a silver platter by stripping naked in that dressing room.

“Fine. I’ll be right over.”

I forced out a smile.

After hanging up, I stood frozen in the foyer.

In the mirror, my face was as pale as paper.

Julian had never been warm or attentive toward me.

When I ran a hundred-and-two-degree fever and called him, he simply told me to go get the meds myself.

He had always been distant and detached, which was why I broke down in tears of happiness when he finally proposed.

Even though the wedding preparations were rushed, I was still filled with anticipation.

When he offered a modest amount of betrothal gift, I made excuses to save his face.

I paid for the event and all the invitations out of my own pocket, and whenever I brought it up, he brushed it off with a flat comment about being busy with work.

There was only one thing he cared about above all else—the wedding dress.

A mermaid gown with a plunging back that exposed everything from the shoulder blades straight down to the lower back, with nothing but nipple covers underneath on the front.

At the time, I couldn’t be more flattered.

In all the years we’d been together, it was the very first time he had taken something related to me so seriously.

At 3:42 PM, I walked into the fitting room.

Inside, I exhausted every ounce of my strength to squeeze myself into the gown.

The nipple covers kept peeling off at the edges, leaving my hands drenched in anxious sweat.

The moment I pulled back the curtain and stepped out, I stood under the spotlight amid wall-to-wall mirrors and a floor covered in rose petals, my heart hammering so violently it felt ready to leap out of my throat.

Julian sat on the sofa, glancing up at me just once.

He offered a flat “You look beautiful” before immediately looking back down at his phone.

The gown strangled the breath out of me, yet I suffered through it gladly.

The very next morning, I was slapped awake.