Chapter 2 Betrayal on the Wedding Day

Aria's POV

The morning after the shooting incident, I woke up to find my phone buzzing with notifications. With a pounding headache, I reached for it and was stunned to see what was happening. The incident had gone viral. Social media was ablaze with comments condemning Liam for prioritizing Sophia over me during the shooting.

"Imagine marrying a man who'll dive in front of a bullet—but only if it's for someone else."

"What kind of man abandons his future wife in a life-threatening situation?"

"That poor Jones girl… she deserves someone who actually remembers who he's engaged to."

Reading these comments made my stomach churn.

My phone rang, and my father's name flashed across the screen.

"Aria," his voice was stern, filled with suppressed anger. "I've seen the news. "The engagement is over, Aria. I'll be damned if I stand by and watch my daughter marry a man who lets her bleed while he cuddles another woman."

"Dad, please," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "It wasn't like that. Liam was just... he wasn't thinking clearly. It was a split-second decision in a chaotic situation."

Even as I defended him, a small voice in my head whispered: But shouldn't protecting you have been his instinct?

"A split-second decision that could have cost you your life, Aria! Do you understand that? If that bullet had hit you instead of grazing your arm—"

"But it didn't," I interrupted, not wanting to imagine the alternative. "Dad, I love him. We've been together for twelve years. One mistake doesn't erase all that."

There was a long pause before my father sighed deeply. "You've always been too forgiving for your own good, just like your mother. Fine. But if he ever puts you in danger again—"

"He won't," I assured him, though uncertainty lingered in my heart.

Later that day, Liam arrived with his parents, William and Elizabeth White. While Elizabeth's face was a mask of polite concern, William looked genuinely remorseful.

"Aria, dear," Elizabeth approached first, her designer heels clicking against the floor. "We are so sorry about what happened. It must have been terrifying for you."

Liam stepped forward, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. "Aria, I can't express how sorry I am. I wasn't thinking clearly. The moment I realized what I'd done, I was horrified. Please forgive me."

Looking into his blue eyes, the same eyes I'd fallen for when we were teenagers, I nodded. "I understand, Liam. It was a chaotic situation."

To appease both our families and the public, we released a joint statement explaining the incident as an unfortunate misunderstanding during a moment of panic. The media frenzy began to subside, and life seemingly returned to normal.

In the days that followed, Liam was attentive and loving. He accompanied me to every wedding preparation, from cake tastings to venue inspections. His dedication made me believe that perhaps the incident was truly just a momentary lapse in judgment. With each passing day, my doubts faded, replaced by excitement for our upcoming wedding.

Finally, the day arrived. The Jones-White wedding was the talk of the town, with over a thousand guests filling the grand ballroom that had been transformed into a fairy-tale setting. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the white roses and lilies that adorned every corner, and a string quartet played softly in the background.

I stood backstage with my father, my heart racing with anticipation. My ivory gown, with its intricate lace and pearl embellishments, had been custom-made, and I felt like a princess in it.

"Nervous, sweetheart?" my father asked, placing a comforting hand on my arm.

I was about to respond when I heard the master of ceremonies announce, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our handsome groom, Mr. Liam White!"

The crowd erupted in applause, but as seconds ticked by, there was no sign of Liam. The applause gradually died down, replaced by murmurs of confusion. The master of ceremonies tried to maintain his composure, making light of the "small delay," but as the minutes passed, even he began to look concerned.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted backstage. A sharp slap echoed through the air, followed by Elizabeth White's shrill voice, "Liam White, you come back here this instant!"

Before I could process what was happening, Liam rushed past me, his face pale and determined. He'd ripped off his "groom" boutonnière, and his eyes briefly met mine.

"Aria, I'm sorry," he blurted, panic etched on his face. "Sophia fell—she's hurt. I can't just leave her like that. We'll… we'll reschedule the wedding, alright? Just a few days."

My world shattered in that moment. All the joy, the anticipation, the dreams for our future... gone in an instant. The warning signs had been there all along, from the moment he chose to protect Sophia during the shooting. Deep down, I'd known, but I'd chosen to ignore it.

My father's face darkened with rage. "Liam, you can't just—"

But Liam was already running towards the exit, leaving me standing in my wedding gown, surrounded by confused guests and a shattered dream.

Something inside me snapped. After all we'd been through, after all the preparations, after I'd defended him to everyone... he was still choosing Sophia. I couldn't let him walk away, not without facing me.

"Liam!" I called out, gathering my billowing gown in my hands and chasing after him. The high heels I wore bit into my skin, each step a painful reminder of the lengths I was willing to go for someone who wouldn't do the same for me.

As I reached the hotel lobby, I saw him outside, about to cross the street to a waiting car. I pushed through the doors, my desperation mounting.

"Liam, please!" I cried out, stepping onto the road.

The screeching of tires filled the air, and I turned to see a black car swerving to avoid me. In my haste to avoid it, I lost my balance and fell hard onto the pavement, the pristine white of my gown now stained with dirt and blood from my scraped palms.

Through the blur of my tears, I saw Liam pause. Just for a second. He turned back, his eyes meeting mine across the distance—conflicted, guilty...

But he still got into the car.

He had chosen her.

Again.

And in that moment, something inside me quietly died.