Chapter 1 The Groom Wasn't the Problem

When Cecilia Fox heard the words "replace the groom," something flickered in her eyes. Still, she immediately launched into a self-righteous defense.

"Amanda, are you really going that far? Do you have any idea how exhausted Ignatius is after work every day? Other than threatening to break up with him, what do you ever do? He said he can't even breathe when he's at home. The only peace and quiet he gets is sitting in his car."

Several coworkers who had come to help her move chimed in with amused smiles.

"Cecilia, you're so thoughtful. That's what a real partner should be like."

"If you ever take Amanda's place, we're all pitching in for a huge wedding gift."

I laughed.

Of course she was thoughtful.

Wasn't that swimsuit photo labeled "My Love" the same one that had gotten wedged in Ignatius' passenger seat?

Back then, I panicked and called Ignatius. Instead of his voice, I heard a woman's breathless moans on the other end.

The shock shattered me.

I broke down crying, only for someone to put the call on loudspeaker. My sobs echoed through the entire conference room.

Audrey Winslow screamed that I was trying to ruin her son's future.

Internet strangers dug up my personal information. My supervisor decided I was too emotionally unstable to lead a team.

Even when I lost control and slashed my own arm with a razor blade, Ignatius still believed Cecilia had not meant any harm and told me not to overthink things.

Again and again, he chose to forgive her.

In the end, I was the only one left wounded.

But this time, I did not lose my mind.

Instead, I spoke calmly. "I paid for every appliance in this house. Ignatius has no right to give any of them to you. Transfer the money to me within 24 hours, or I'll sue."

Cecilia looked as if she had been slapped. Her face flushed bright red.

Only then did the coworkers notice me standing in the doorway. The place instantly fell silent.

…

I shut the door and opened a group chat titled "Operation Bring Amanda Home."

My mother and brothers worked fast. Within seconds, more than twenty profiles of potential marriage candidates flooded the chat.

My five stepbrothers practically competed with each other to make recommendations.

"This one's never touched cigarettes or alcohol, and his personal life is spotless."

"This guy built his own business from the ground up. He's romantic, successful, and one of the six most handsome men in Kingsport."

My finger paused over the final message.

"I knew a long time ago he'd disappoint you. If he truly loved you, why would he postpone the wedding 19 times? The wedding is scheduled for ten days from now. Take your time choosing the groom."

It turned out that whether someone loved me or not was obvious to everyone else.

I should not have kept trapping myself in a five-year obsession, pretending not to see the truth.

After a few taps on my screen, I sent my reply. "Mom, you can choose for me. I like all of them."