Walking Down the Aisle to a Different Groom

My phone relentlessly buzzed with excited messages. "I'll start planning the wedding right away!"

Erica Jones leaned against Christopher Scott while pouting. "Scarlett, you know I never believed in marriage. I just wanted to experience it once, and Anthony and Christopher jumped at the chance to make it happen!"

I said nothing. Before I could even react, Christopher slapped the phone from my hand. "Are you deaf? Didn't our family teach you any manners? Erica's being sincere. Why do you have to be so petty that you can't even answer her?"

My fiancé, Anthony Scott, stepped in front of me—not to defend me, but to shield Erica. He glanced down at the screen. "What are you planning? Are you going on a trip?"

I quickly picked up the phone and locked it. "It's a company project."

The three of them stood there like a perfect picture, like a scene straight out of a magazine. And me? I was the joke.

Around me, murmurs swirled like smoke.

"She still thinks she's the bride? Please. This whole party was clearly planned for Ms. Jones by the Scott brothers."

"She tried to marry Mr. Anthony, and when he bailed, she latched onto Mr. Christopher. Honestly, Mr. Anthony must've realized just how desperate she is for a man..."

The guests were all rich socialites. To them, I was nothing more than entertainment.

And the two childhood sweethearts who once promised to protect me forever? Their eyes never left Erica.

I scanned the room. The romantic setup I'd painstakingly crafted for weeks lay in ruins. White balloons and delicate roses were defaced with blood-red spray paint that read, "Cheers to Single Life!"

What a cruel performance to humiliate me. It was staged and directed by Anthony and Christopher, meant to showcase just how much they adored Erica.

I picked up one of the roses, but I couldn't stop my hands from trembling.

Erica froze, and her eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry, Scarlett... It was my idea. I wanted to surprise you with a fun bachelorette party... I never meant for it to turn out like this..."

Anthony gently ruffled her hair and turned to me with a grim expression. "Can you stop playing the victim? You're a wedding planner—you've seen worse. Don't act like you can't handle this."

Christopher didn't wait for an answer. He stormed forward, grabbed my wrist, and shoved me toward Erica. "Scarlett! Erica's just a sweet, naive person. How can you be so cruel? You're the only one she's scared of, and it's only because you pretend to be so damn pitiful. Apologize to her right now!"

A sharp pain shot up my arm, but I said nothing. Instead, I slid off the ring I had designed myself.

Anthony's expression flickered. Instinctively, he covered his hand—the one that had once proudly worn the custom wedding ring I'd spent three months crafting.

It had already been swapped out for a matching pair with Erica.

I kept my voice calm. "You're right. Let's enjoy the bachelorette party."

They stared at me, stunned. This was the first time I didn't argue when it came to Erica.

In the past, I had always fought back. For example, when she threw out my gastric pills, and they'd pulled strings to stop every ambulance from reaching me. Yet, all Anthony could say about that was, "Can you stop making scenes and faking it every time Erica's around?"

But not this time.

"Let's break up." I tossed the ring without a second thought.

Anthony froze, and his face darkened.

I smiled. "Cheers to single life, right?"

Christopher was the first to snap. "Are you insane? Erica planned this surprise for you! Now, you're throwing it in her face? If you don't marry into the Scott family, who else would ever want you?"

Just when I thought it couldn't hurt any more, his words cut even deeper.

Still, I smiled. Calmly, I tossed the rose at his chest.

He stared at me in disbelief. Then, he lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. "How dare you!" he growled.

The pain was sharp and immediate.

Funny. I remembered how they'd used to fuss over every little scrape I got, wrapping me up in bandages like I was something fragile.

But not anymore.

"This was Ms. Jones' idea. I thought you should get the full experience," I indifferently said.

Christopher's face twisted—first red, then white. He hurled the rose back at me like garbage. "Have you had enough, Scarlett?"

Anthony scowled as he charged toward me. "The wedding's on Sunday. If you're planning to make a scene again in front of all these people, don't blame me if I cancel it."