Chapter 1

On the wedding day, the bridesmaids smilingly asked Ian three questions.

"Is Natalie's cat male or female? What's her favorite color? What's her shoe size?"

Ian answered without hesitation: "Female, pink, size six."

My best friend turned to look at me awkwardly; not one of his three answers was right.

To give him a pass, she just asked the easiest question she could.

"What birthday present did you give Bianca last year?"

"A diamond necklace I won at an auction house, worth three point eight million."

My best friend let out a sigh of relief, but when she turned around she saw how pale my face had gone.

From outside the door came the coquettish voice of his childhood sweetheart: "Ian, you've got it wrong. That diamond necklace was the one you gave to me."

"Look, I'm even wearing it today."

...

The noise outside the door went quiet for a moment, and then someone tried to smooth things over.

"Natalie, don't take it to heart. Ian's just been so busy with the wedding these past few days that his head's a mess, so he mixed it up."

"If you're really upset, shut the bedroom door tonight and set him straight. For now, don't throw a little fit."

"Yeah, yeah. After all these years, Ian's long been used to having only Bianca around him. Now that you've suddenly come along, of course he's not used to it."

"Hurry up and open the door, don't hold up the lucky hour."

My best friend was so angry she wanted to go out and argue with them, but I gently held her back.

I shook my head, signaling her not to act rashly.

"Never mind. Open the door."

The moment the door opened, Ian and the whole group of groomsmen appeared before me, and the petite figure in the pink gown among them stabbed painfully at my eyes.

Around her fair neck she was indeed wearing a dazzling diamond necklace, so radiant it almost made me cry.

On my birthday last year, Ian told me he was going abroad on a business trip and hadn't prepared any gift for me at all.

Back then he complained on the phone: "You're not a kid anymore. Why celebrate a birthday every year? Don't you get tired of it?"

"If you really want a gift that badly, I'll make it up to you later."

But later, he never did make up that birthday gift.

I thought he'd forgotten, but it turned out he'd given the gift to someone else.

He'd given it to his childhood sweetheart, Bianca Cobb.

As if sensing my displeasure, Bianca sidled up to me with put-on affection.

"There now, Natalie, from now on I'm handing Ian over to you. You have to take good care of him for me."

As she spoke, she came over and bumped into me on her own, then acted as if I had shoved her to the ground.

He'd used the same trick more times than anyone could count, and Ian fell for it every single time.

He immediately steadied Bianca and scolded me, "Natalie, what do you think you're doing? Bianca came to our wedding out of kindness. As the bride, can't you be a little more gracious?"

Bianca huddled in his arms, looking like the wronged party.

"Natalie, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you disliked me this much."

"If it's because of this necklace, I can give it to you—consider it my wedding gift to you both."

"I know that now that you're here, I can't be close to Ian the way I used to be."

"As long as you and Ian are happy, I'm fine with leaving, even."

With that, she blinked a couple of times and the tears fell right away.

Seeing her cry, the group of groomsmen who'd grown up with her and Ian instantly turned unhappy, every one of them stone-faced, looking at me like I was their enemy.

"That's not right of you, ma'am. Say what you want, but we came in good faith to support your wedding. If you don't want us, fine, but why shove someone?"

"Right. Because of you, Ian hasn't gone out to eat with his brothers in ages. Isn't that enough?"

"Enough already. You're just dating and you think you're some little princess? Aren't you just jealous that Bianca's more popular than you?"

"Exactly, and this is worth getting jealous over? If Bianca and Ian really felt that way about each other, it never would've come to you."

Everyone chimed in one after another, and a perfectly good wedding pickup turned into something messier than a farmers' market.

Across the two crowds, I watched Ian, still bent over comforting Bianca.

Bianca, in her pink gown, leaned against him, as if the two of them were the leads of the day.

I smiled and said flatly:

"You don't need to leave."

"This wedding—I'm not going through with it."