My Wedding He Never Knew About
BagelCountdownWinning Back the WifeTragic LovePlot TwistsFeel-Good StoryMafiaAwakening
I'm getting married. But Ryder, my boyfriend of seven years, has no idea.
He recently hired a new assistant, Blair, and has been swamped ever since.
The two of them are the toast of the high-society circuit, a perfect power couple frequently seen at galas and parties together.
To celebrate a major project Blair landed, Ryder booked an entire restaurant for a celebratory dinner.
During the dinner, Blair intentionally swapped my lemonade for a strong cocktail. Unaware, I took a large sip.
Ryder just watched, smiling playfully as he asked, “How is it, baby? How does it taste?”
He forgot. He forgot that I have a deadly alcohol allergy.
My throat swelled shut faster than I could have imagined. As I collapsed, the only sounds were my own gasps for air and a porcelain plate shattering on the floor.
That night, I lay in the family's private medical wing.
When I opened my eyes, the oxygen mask was still pressed to my face. I nodded at my mother.
The arranged marriage. I agreed to it.