Chapter 2

Someone in the background let out another chuckle. This time, Tristan didn't join in.

But he didn't do a single thing to stop them, either.

I shifted my gaze away from his face and reached down to pick up my umbrella.

One of the structural ribs had been bent out of shape when someone accidentally bumped into it earlier.

When I snapped it open, the fabric canopy listed heavily to one side.

I stared down at the warped frame for a couple of seconds, but I still stepped out into the pouring rain, holding it over my head.

Behind me, Tristan’s voice cut straight through the heavy downpour. "Grace, if you walk away today, don't expect me to come crawling back to smooth things over with you."

My footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second.

Then, I kept walking forward.

The following morning, the wedding planner called my phone, asking for a final confirmation on the names for the main reception backdrop.

By the time I arrived at the venue, Sunny was standing right in the center of the grand ballroom.

She was wearing a sleek white satin gown.

It wasn't an actual wedding dress, yet it bore a striking resemblance to a bridal gown, far outshining any standard evening wear.

Tristan was sitting in the front row, his head lowered as he reviewed the itinerary clipboard.

The wedding planner let out a massive sigh of absolute relief the second she saw me walk through the doors. "Miss Thorne, thank God you're finally here. Miss Pierce insists on altering the primary backdrop layout to a custom graphic she designed herself, and we didn't dare authorize it without your approval."

I turned my eyes toward the stage.

The original backdrop was supposed to display our names in bold typography: Tristan & Grace.

Instead, it had been completely changed to a single sentence.

Hidden beneath the grand quote, my name had been forced into a tiny footnote format at the very edge of the display.

Sunny offered a warm, breezy smile as she stepped forward. "Grace, please don't get the wrong idea. I just felt like slapping two names directly together looked a bit unrefined. It’s a wedding, you know? It deserves to feel high-end and elegant."

Before I could even open my mouth to answer, Tristan lifted his head. "I already reviewed the layout. It looks great."

The wedding planner looked incredibly uncomfortable. "But this is the primary backdrop for the entire reception. The bride's name is completely miniaturized. It might not even register properly in the official photography."

Sunny immediately dropped her gaze, her lip trembling slightly. "Oh, never mind then. I was genuinely just trying to lighten the load. After all, with Grace’s hearing difficulties, I know how exhausting it can be to manage all these vendors."

Tristan snapped the itinerary clipboard shut. "We’re going with Sunny’s layout."

I stared directly at him. "Tristan, this is my wedding."

His expression remained entirely flat. "It’s my wedding too."

That single sentence hit me like a physical wall, leaving me completely speechless for a long moment.

Sunny glided over, linking her elbow through mine with aggressive familiarity. "Grace, don't be so incredibly serious. Getting married is supposed to be a joyous occasion. If you keep wearing a long face like that all the time, you're just going to exhaust Tristan."

She was leaning in so close that the sharp notes of her perfume invaded my senses.

Without making a scene, I smoothly extracted my arm from her grasp. "I don't approve of this design."

Sunny’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. "Are you... are you saying you don't approve of me being here either?"

Tristan abruptly stood up from his seat. "Grace, stop taking your frustrations out on her."

I looked at him calmly. "I simply said I don't approve of the design."

"You know perfectly well she was just trying to do something nice for us," he replied. He took a few steps forward until he was standing right in front of me, dropping his voice to a low, warning whisper. "The wedding is coming soon. Do you genuinely have to humiliate everyone in the room?"

A few of the venue staff members immediately lowered their heads, pretending to look busy, but I knew they were hanging on to every single word.

My ears might miss out on a lot of spoken details, but I could feel the physical weight of those judging stares.

They felt like a hundred tiny needles pricking against my skin.

Sunny dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. "Let it go, Tristan. We should just stick to Grace’s original layout. She’s always been incredibly sensitive."

Sensitive.

There was that word again.

In the past, Tristan used to tell me that I wasn't being sensitive. He used to tell me that the people speaking to me simply lacked basic human decency.

But now, he stood firmly on someone else's side.

Using his heavy silence to dictate the truth.

To tell me that I was, indeed, just being sensitive.

I reached into my purse, pulled out the original layout blueprints, and handed them directly to the wedding planner. "Execute this version."

Tristan’s face turned completely cold. "Grace."

I didn't even look back at him. "The name signed on the primary vendor contract belongs to me, and I was the one who wired the initial deposit. The layout arrangements will be executed exactly according to my terms."

This was the absolute first time in all our years that I had ever openly contradicted him in front of outsiders.

A flash of pure, stunned bewilderment flickered deep within Tristan’s eyes. "Is making a petty scene over contract logistics honestly satisfying to you right now?"

Sunny hovered right behind his shoulder. "Tristan, please don't argue on my account. I'll just step away from the planning committee, okay?"

The moment she turned as if to walk away, Tristan instantly reached out and caught her wrist securely. "Nobody is telling you to leave."

I stared down at his hand. He was gripping her wrist tightly, as if terrified she might actually experience a single shred of mistreatment.

The wedding planner stood there, looking more awkward than ever. "Um... so, which layout are we officially executing?"

Tristan locked his eyes onto mine. "Grace, don't push this tantrum so far that it becomes a complete mess to clean up."

Those words sounded entirely too familiar.

The invitations have already been sent out. What else am I supposed to do at this point?

A complete mess to clean up.

It turned out that the decade we had built together was nothing more than a formal obligation to him.

I slowly placed the original blueprints back into my purse. "Then let the two of you decide."

Tristan’s brow relaxed a fraction, a look of minor victory washing over his face as if he had finally triumphed in some tedious, exhausting argument.

A radiant smile broke across Sunny’s face as well. "Grace, don't you worry about a thing! I promise I will make sure your wedding turns out absolutely beautiful."

Right before I exited the grand ballroom, I turned back to look one final time.

The stark white spotlights illuminated the stage, making that sentence look completely cold and devoid of any real warmth.

My name was so incredibly small it was virtually invisible.

Standing there, a sudden thought crossed my mind—maybe this was actually a good thing.

If it was invisible, I no longer had to look at it.

My phone vibrated inside my pocket. It was a private text message sent surreptitiously by the wedding planner.

[Miss Thorne, if you choose to cancel the wedding event, the contract stipulations allow for a sixty-percent refund on your initial deposit. However, we would need your final confirmation before five o'clock this afternoon.]

I stared intently at those words for a very long moment, my thumb hovering silently over the screen, hesitant to tap the glass.

Tristan’s voice suddenly called out to me from behind.

"Grace, send me Sunny's measurements for her bridesmaid dress."