That Wedding Ring's Not for Me

The morning of my wedding, my bridesmaid posted something on social media that sent a chill down my spine.

[I hope someone will put a ring like this on my finger one day!]

The photo showed my wedding ring, glinting on her ring finger.

I replied instantly: [Looks great on you!]

She came to me soon after, crying as if her world had crumbled, begging me not to be angry.

Moments later, my husband stormed in and snapped at me.

"She was just testing out the ring! She's your best friend. Why are you overreacting?"

I left him with a divorce agreement and walked away without looking back.

By the time the ceremony ended and the guests were moving to the banquet hall, Callum Xander was busy escorting Lily Aslon home under the pretense of calming her down.

I stayed behind, still wearing my wedding dress, alone in the lounge.

Callum returned a while later, carrying a glass of juice. He placed it on the vanity table as though he were doing me a favor.

"Here. Lily asked me to bring this to you. She thought the hotel food might be too greasy and said this would help."

His voice carried a faint trace of impatience.

"Seriously, she's your best friend. Why are you acting so jealous? Look how thoughtful she is."

Without a word, I poured the juice straight into the trash can.

Callum exploded.

"Serenity McKayla! What the hell is wrong with you? How can you be so disrespectful?"

I looked at him calmly.

"I'm allergic to citrus. Did you forget?"

My so-called best friend, the one who knew me better than anyone else, had gone out of her way to bring me something I couldn't drink. On my wedding day, no less. How considerate.

Callum froze, his eyes darting to the trash can.

"It must've been a mistake. Lily probably didn't know…"

He hesitated before adding, "She meant well. Apologize to her tomorrow. Don't let this blow up. Honestly, the way you're acting right now, even I'm disappointed in you."

I let out a cold laugh.

"I'm done."

Callum's face darkened, his irritation barely concealed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I started gathering my things, ignoring his question.

"You can handle the rest of the wedding yourself. After all, you're good at entertaining people. Oh, and I won't be helping your company with any more lawsuits either."

His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and forcing me to face him.

"Serenity, don't forget—you own shares in the company too. You can't just walk away!"

A wave of nausea hit me suddenly. I yanked my arm free and bolted into the lounge's bathroom.

Callum stood frozen for a moment before scrambling to search through my handbag.

"Where's your medicine? The doctor said you were almost fully recovered!"

His voice trembled, panicked, as he turned my bag inside out.

I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection—pale, tired, and drained. Next to Lily, I had always looked washed out.

Callum often complained that I didn't put enough effort into my appearance. But no amount of makeup could hide the exhaustion etched into my features.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, he handed me a glass of water and a pill.

"Take it."

I swallowed the medicine without a word.

He hesitated awkwardly before speaking again.

"There's a lawsuit with Rocket Ventures the day after tomorrow. Make sure you go."

Before I could respond, he continued, "By the way, Lily just messaged me. She's not feeling well, so I'm heading over to check on her. I might have to leave early tonight."

He grabbed his car keys and forced a strained smile before walking out.

I didn't stop him. I didn't see the point.

Only Lily could make a groom leave his own wedding reception to take care of her.

The next day, my assistant Lydia Burton barged into my office, shoving her phone in front of me.

"Serenity, you need to see this."

On the screen was a trending post from a social media platform.

The headline stood out in bold letters: [Help! Is my boss into me?]

The post detailed how her boss had shown her special treatment—personally driving her home in the rain, accompanying her to the hospital late at night, and even preparing custom-made tea for her.

It ended with a coy remark:

[I can't help but have feelings for him. He's just too nice. What should I do?]

The accompanying photo showed the back of a man in a suit, standing in what looked like an office.

I knew that figure.

I knew that office.

I knew it all too well.