Chapter 1

Ten minutes before my engagement party, my fiancé's ex walks in waving a text on her phone — the venue's cancellation confirmation — while sixty tables of his relatives clap like it's Shark Tank.

The head table sits empty. The hotel manager, sweating through his suit, quietly wheels the food back into the kitchen.

Shane's groomsmen are doubled over laughing. One of them jabs a finger in my face.

"Ivy Sharp, you really thought throwing this circus would lock Shane down?"

"Everybody knows Shane's got commitment issues, and you're the one shoving 'engagement' down his throat every single day!"

"This whole cancellation? It's Shane's little wake-up call for you, sweetheart!"

Shane leans against the doorframe, smirking like he owns the room.

"I told you I've got marriage trauma, and you still book sixty tables to strong-arm me? If I don't cure you now, you'll be holding a wedding gun to my head forever."

The manager slides up while the whole room laughs at me.

"Ma'am, it's a holiday weekend. Every private room is booked. If you cancel, your guests will have to share tables in the main hall."

Shane's little sister Sienna is laughing so hard she's holding the wall.

"Look, guys! The gold-digger's face is turning green! Come on, cry a little! Beg my brother to marry you!"

I shove Shane's hand off my shoulder. And in front of sixty tables of his relatives, I walk straight next door to the private room across the hall.

I knock once.

"Mr. Cross. That marriage alliance you offered me last week—is it still on the table?"

Not a second of hesitation.

"It's on the table."

"One week from tonight. The Cross Family will be ready for the wedding."

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I smile. I turn around and walk right back into the disaster.

Shane is still slouched against the doorframe. Pete lets out an obnoxious whistle.

"Wow, Ivy, if you're gonna fake-cheat to make Shane jealous, at least pick a better script!"

"He cancels one party and you're already grabbing some random guy off the street?"

Sienna is laugh-crying into the wall.

"An alliance? Yeah, right! You've been chasing my brother like a lost puppy since freshman year!"

"If you left him alone for one day, I'd light a candle at church, I swear to God!"

I close my eyes. Three years ago flashes back — the day Shane introduced me to his family.

He had a stomach bug. I drove to his place every night for a week with homemade chicken soup.

He held me tight and swore he'd never let me down.

Now all that love is just me "throwing myself at him."

I ignore the insults, grab my purse, and turn to leave.

That's when Shane finally decides to move toward me.

Classic Shane. Let everyone tear me apart, then swoop in as the good guy.

"Everybody chill out."

"Ivy, look — I should've told you about the cancellation, but I did it to snap you out of it."

"You've been talking wedding, wedding, wedding for months. I can't sleep."

"I told you I've got issues, and you still throw this massive circus? What is this if not emotional blackmail?"

I stare at him. My chest tightens.

"Shane, you picked the date. You mailed the invitations."

"Every single one of those sixty-six tables? Your aunts, your uncles, your cousins."

"If you were so scared of marriage, why didn't you say something months ago?"

"Or is it just that Sloane came back to town, and suddenly the word 'wedding' gives you a panic attack?"

Shane freezes for a second.

"Ivy, don't twist my words."

"I said I have trauma. Sloane was kind enough to help me cancel, and instead of thanking her, you're throwing dirt on her name?"

I stare at him. Then I laugh — short, bitter.

"Fine."

"If you don't want to get engaged, give me back the ring."

"I've got someone else I want to give it to."

Shane's face locks up.

Sienna jumps in first.

"Yeah, about that ring — you're not getting it back!"

"My brother thought the design was cute, so he let Sloane try it on a few days ago."

"Pretty things always go to Sloane first. You know how it is."

Sloane, sitting in her chair, cutely covers her mouth.

"Oh, Sienna, stop it, you're embarrassing me!"

Then she lifts the chain around her neck — and dangling from it is my engagement ring.

I laugh once. Cold. I reach out, grab the ring, and rip the chain straight off her neck.

Sloane screams.

I don't care. I flip the ring over and look inside the band.

Where my initials and Shane's should be engraved? It now says "SW."

Sloane. Whitfield.

I hold the ring up so Shane can see it.

"This is your marriage trauma?"

For the first time all night, Shane looks uncomfortable.

I laugh once more — and whip the ring straight at his chest.

"For seven years — when your mother was in the hospital, I slept in that recliner for six months."

"When your sister got arrested for a DUI, I was the one at the precinct at 3 a.m. bailing her out."

"Now your ex is back. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted."

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