Chapter 1

After learning that Ted Moretti had proposed to his secretary, I called my mother.

“Mom,” I said softly, “I’ve decided to accept the marriage arranged by the family.”

The living room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tightly. My voice sounded distant and hollow—as if it came from another person.

There was a sharp silence on the other end of the line.

“You were so vehemently against it before,” my mother said cautiously. “Carly, marriage isn’t a transaction. The important thing is your happiness. Don’t force yourself.”

Her concern made my throat tighten.

“I’ve thought it through,” I replied. “You can start making arrangements.”

She exhaled slowly, as if she had expected me to say that.

“You and Ted have been together for so many years,” she said gently. “But he’s never acknowledged you at home. He doesn’t even remember your birthday. Your father and I have known for a long time—this relationship will never end well.”

Every word she spoke clearly and painfully revealed the truth.

Everyone saw the truth—except me.

“The Ryder family is powerful,” my mother continued. “Their son is steady, disciplined, and upright. He understands the rules of our world. Carly, you should find someone who puts you first.”

I closed my eyes.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said. “I believe you.”

“Would you like us to arrange a meeting first?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I replied softly. “Let’s start planning the wedding first.”

After a brief silence, her tone became pragmatic.

“Then let’s set the wedding for a month from now.”

After hanging up, I felt someone behind me.

Ted was standing there.

He held a gift box—black and gold, with a prominent logo of an Italian luxury brand.

“A wedding?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Who’s getting married?”

He stiffened, alert and wary.

“It’s definitely not me,” I said casually.

I smiled and shook my head gently.

“Just a friend.”

The tension on his shoulder almost instantly dissipated. The sight stung my chest.

He sighed in relief. Was it because he thought I wasn't pressuring him?

Or because he thought I hadn't yet discovered that he—the wedding everyone was celebrating—was already engaged?

“I brought you your favorite LV bag,” he said. “Would you like to try it on?”

Once, such a gesture would have made me feel valued.

But now, I only felt bitterness.

Not long ago, I saw Anya's social media post.

That LV bag wasn't my favorite.

It was hers.

Perfume, lipstick, and all the gifts Ted had given me over the years—they were all her favorites.

Then I realized something worse.

Ted only started giving me gifts after Anya joined his company.

So, Ted, when you think of me…

Are you really thinking of me?

I swallowed hard.

“I don't like LV anymore,” I said calmly. “Don’t buy me anything anymore.”

He stared at me. “When did this start?”

I didn’t argue.

“My taste has changed,” I replied.

Some things, once seen clearly, can never be forgotten.