Chapter 2

Watching the scenery race backward past the train window, my thoughts drifted, whether I wanted them to or not, back to seven years ago.

The group chat wasn't wrong. Amos really had saved me.

Back then I was a green little intern reporter with barely any experience, desperate to break a story that would blow up.

By day I roamed the streets with a camera. By night I drifted through the clubs with my phone.

Then one day, I actually caught something big.

I was so thrilled I nearly screamed.

Unfortunately, they saw me.

A pack of thugs chased me for blocks, and just as I ran out of road, I yanked open the door of Amos's car and got in.

I turned to look at him and froze.

He was the best-looking man I had ever seen in my life. I'm not exaggerating.

Big eyes, a straight nose, gold-rimmed glasses perched on it.

Refined. Restrained.

Amos looked at me and frowned slightly. He glanced at the men outside and said nothing.

He didn't kick me out of the car. Instead he handed me a handkerchief and pointed at my face. "Wipe the sweat off."

"Thank you."

To someone being hunted, he might as well have been a god descending from heaven.

After he parked, I used washing his handkerchief as an excuse, and it fell naturally into place: I got his contact information.

Only later did I learn we'd gone to the same school.

Because we were alumni, we had a lot of friends in common.

The days went by, and it happened as naturally as anything: we became a couple.

Holding hands, hugging, kissing.

I thought God had sent him down to save me, to let an orphan with no father and no mother feel a little warmth in this world.

After we got together, he really was good to me. He remembered when my period was coming and made me hot ginger tea. He brought me gifts when he came back from business trips. When I was in a bad mood, he took me to the handbag store and told me to pick whatever I wanted, put it all on his card.

Late at night, in the quiet, I'd think that even if this was some elaborate scam meant just for me, I'd accept it.

Every time I remembered those days, it felt like a dream.

But time went fast. Seven years, and he never once brought up marriage.

I wanted to marry him. Wanted it for years. The proposal came from me.

That day he was so moved. He held me and kissed me for a long time.

I thought he was happy.

But not long after, I ran into him and Kirsten at the bridal shop.

My nightmare.

She was wearing the wedding dress that should have been mine, standing blissfully in front of the mirror, asking Amos if it looked good.

Amos, all smiles, played along. "It looks good."

I asked him coldly why he was letting her wear my wedding dress.

He put an arm around my shoulders, lowered his head, kissed my cheek. "Be good. Kirsten's just getting a feel for it."

I looked up at him. "Getting a feel for it, in my wedding dress, with a man?"

He glanced instinctively at Kirsten, a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

He pulled me aside and said, holding on to his patience, "Don't make a scene. It's just a dress."

I shot back, "And next time? Are we going to plan another wedding too?"

I didn't spare him.

He looked at me, all disappointment. "Cecilia, I never thought you'd think that way."

"I always believed you were a sensible girl."

"Kirsten went through some things when she was young, so she's a little afraid of men. She won't have any ideas about them."

Afraid of men?

She looked pretty happy when she was smiling at him.

For the sake of marrying him, I forced it all down.

...

Who could have guessed she'd pull the same trick again.

Right now, she was sitting in my bridal car, her arm hooked through my fiancé's.

And me, sitting on this train, I'd become a joke all over again.

【Mm, it really does look good. Kirsten's always had good taste.】

I clenched my teeth and stared at that line.

Kirsten's taste.

Her again.

【Right? I really do have an eye for it. I said this dress suited you, and Amos bought it on the spot. You look like a fairy come down to earth in it.】

Kirsten chimed in, right on cue, backing Amos up with a few lines.

I bit my lip and sniffed, my eyes stinging like grit had gotten into them, my vision slowly blurring.

【No wonder it felt prickly when I wore it. Did you two lace it with poison?】

The moment I sent it, Amos's call came through.

I answered, cupping my hand over my mouth, and said quietly, "What is it?"

"It's your big day. How can you talk like that? Kirsten meant well, helping you pick the ring, picking the dress, and you go looking for faults in her."

"She's the one who stitched the thorns in. That's why she thinks everyone's picking at her."

Amos went quiet on the other end.

He said nothing, and neither did I.

Finally, he said impatiently, "Are we still getting married or not?"