Chapter 1

### Chapter 1

My fiancé, Tyler Farley, missed our wedding for the twenty-seventh time.in the meantime, I got the call that my parents had been in a car crash on their way to it.

I ran for the hospital as hard as I could, tripped on my wedding gown, and blood soaked through the hem in an instant.

"Miss Hughes, you were pregnant. We couldn't save the baby."

I lay on the operating table with my mind gone completely blank.

Five years of trying, and I'd finally carried a child, only to lose him before I'd had one second to be happy.

Before I could even cry out, a nurse held out a document. "Miss Hughes, this is your parents' death certificate. We need your signature."

My fingers shook so hard I could barely hold the pen. The moment I finished signing, our group chat pinged.

My best friend, Susan Henson, had written: "Queenie, something came up at the studio, I can't be your maid of honor this time. Next time, okay?"

Right after that, a cold message from Tyler.

"Something came up with a big client. Let's push the wedding again. If you insist on going through with it, you can have your parents walk you through it instead."

My vision blurred into a smear. I hurt so much I didn't even have the strength to type.

A chime. Susan's secret account had a new post.

"I keep saying the sea in a storm is a thousand times more romantic than clear skies, and this lunatic actually dragged me out on the spot."

In the video, Tyler threw away his umbrella, and the two of them stood locked together in the churning surf, laughing so freely, so brightly it burned my eyes.

In that instant it felt like I'd been burned to ash.

So the twenty-seventh time he abandoned me to "be with a big client," he'd been with her, watching the rain over the water.

The first wedding got pushed back, and I forgave him for a sudden business trip.

The second time it was pushed back, I believed he'd worked all night and overslept.

The third time, the fourth… until I found this account and understood that every single time he was gone, he'd been with her: seeing the Eiffel Tower in Paris, chasing lions across the African savanna, seeing the whole world.

Now my parents were dead, my child was gone, and I couldn't lie to myself anymore.

I wiped my tears and tapped Like.

From now on, go be as romantic as you want. I don't want the wedding, and I don't want this man.

…

I'd barely finished liking the post when Tyler's message came through.

Two words: "Take it down!"

I clutched the cramping ache in my chest, my voice trembling.

"Being with a big client meant taking her to the beach?!"

"Susan is your best friend, and to me she's just a business partner. Are you sick? You're jealous over even this?"

I held my parents' portrait against me, tears swimming in my eyes.

This had already happened more times than I could count.

Ever since Susan came to Chicago from the country, Tyler had changed.

Back when I had a fever of a hundred and two, he'd said through the door, "Drink plenty of hot water, and don't get me sick."

Now when she caught a small cold, he took time off to sit at her bedside, cutting the apples I'd bought into little pieces and feeding them into her mouth.

He stayed up with her while she studied for her continuing-ed exams. On my birthday he took her shopping.

He put up ten million to open a high-end yoga studio for her, and every member came from the circle of wealthy wives he'd invited in.

Every holiday, he bought gifts in pairs. One for me, one for her.

The moment I questioned any of it, his face would drop.

"I'm only doing this to help you keep your friendship going. Don't be so petty."

Five years ago, at our first wedding, Tyler invited every name in Chicago.

But because Susan posted that "seeing the Eiffel Tower is the romantic dream of my life," he walked straight out.

I stood on that stage in my gown and became the whole city's joke.

After I found that account, I asked him countless times to keep his distance from her.

He'd get impatient with me, like I was a child who didn't understand anything.

"She has no one in this city. If you won't help her, fine, but then you turn around and blame me. Sometimes I wonder if you even have a heart, Queenie Hughes."

One sentence, and every hurt I felt got shoved back down my throat.

Then I yanked the cheap ring off my middle finger and hurled it out the hospital window.

The year I turned eighteen, my parents spent everything they had to send him abroad to study.

He knelt in front of them and swore he'd cherish me for the rest of his life.

"Queenie, once I've made it, I'll buy you the most beautiful diamond ring and make you the most beautiful bride."

I thought I could go on lying to myself forever.

But today that diamond ring, the one I'd chosen, was on Susan's hand.

I sent him the hospital's location.

"Come to the hospital. I have something to tell you."

"Addicted to faking sick now? You made Susan cry, and I'm here cleaning up your mess!"

Listening to that accusing tone, I wanted to tell him: my parents are gone.

But the second I opened my mouth, my chest hurt too much to breathe.

As if he'd read something into my silence, Tyler lowered his voice.

"I was just worried it wasn't safe for Susan to go to the beach in a storm. Don't blow this out of proportion."

The cold words drilled into my ear, and the pain pushed the tears up.

"Tyler, the year I was kidnapped and thrown off a cliff and nearly died, you were away on business telling me to stop making a scene. And now you tell me you're afraid it isn't safe for her to see the sea."

I laughed out loud.

"My parents are dead! There's no wedding to hold anymore."

He froze for a second, then let out a scornful laugh.