Three days before my wedding, I discovered Eric had changed our venue from my grandmother’s estate to a Spanish castle—Chloe’s favorite place. I rushed to confront him but overheard him complaining: “Thank God Chloe has taste. Otherwise, I’d be a laughingstock.” His friend asked, “But you promised her grandmother’s place. Won’t she call it off?” Eric scoffed: “Her family’s bankrupt. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble.” He smirked, “The planner already called her. She’s probably rebooking her flight right now.” Anger and betrayal twisted inside me. I bit my lip and walked away. Three days later, the castle wedding proceeded. I didn’t rebook my flight. I didn’t show up. Instead, in my grandmother’s garden, I exchanged rings with another man. To this day, Eric doesn’t understand: I didn’t marry him for a way out—but for a love that lasted ten years. When the dream ended, I simply made another choice. 1 Not long after I left the Levine Corporation building, Eric sent me the address of the Spanish castle along with a photo. It was a stunning shot of the castle’s facade—ivory limestone walls, a gilded dome, the very picture of opulence. But front and center in the photo, a striking figure in a flowing red dress with a cascade of auburn curls, was Chloe. My finger hovered over her beaming face for a moment, and a wave of absurdity washed over me. I was the bride. This was supposed to be our wedding venue. Yet the star of the photo he sent was his childhood friend, the one he always insisted was “just a friend, don’t overthink it.” After that, silence. I knew Eric. He figured the wedding planner had already broken the news, so he was just nudging things along, sending the address so I wouldn’t book a flight to the wrong country. A stone had settled in my stomach. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. He had promised me we’d have the ceremony at my grandmother’s estate. Why would he change everything, without a second thought, just because Chloe liked a castle? It was dark by the time I got home. As I approached the door, I heard Eric snapping at the housekeeper. “Ava isn’t a toddler. Does she really expect me to worry if she’s a little late?” “But sir,” the housekeeper said nervously, “Ms. Quinn left right after the call from the wedding planner this morning. I was worried she might…” Eric laughed, a harsh, cutting sound. “She left to sort out her visa and change her flights. Getting the entire Quinn clan rerouted isn’t a simple task.” He sounded so sure of himself. “Don’t worry. Ava has been dreaming of marrying me for years. She’d be lost without me. I could move the venue to Antarctica and she’d crawl her way there, let alone to a castle hand-picked by Chloe.” The housekeeper fell silent, but Eric kept muttering to himself. “Chloe hasn’t texted back in five minutes… I should go check on her.” He hurried out of the house just as I was slipping away. It was the Levine family villa, after all. Not my home. He’d asked me to move in to make wedding preparations easier. At first, it was perfect. We were honey-sweet, just like any other engaged couple. Then Chloe came home, nursing a broken heart, and Eric announced he had to go comfort her. That “comforting” had now stretched into four months. Anytime Chloe felt down, he would drop everything—drop me—and run to her side. I chose the wedding dress alone. I designed the layout for the ceremony in my grandmother’s garden alone. He had no part in it. Whenever I dared to complain, he’d look up from his phone, his face a mask of irritation from being interrupted while texting her. “You only want to marry me to save your family’s business, right?” he’d say. “I’ve already agreed to that. What more do you want?” Then his phone would ring—Chloe, of course—and he’d walk out, a smile already on his face, leaving my words to vanish into the air. “You were the one who proposed to me,” I’d whisper to the empty room. “I said yes because I loved you…” In that moment, I went from a woman giddy with the joy of her upcoming wedding to a lonely spectator in my own life. And now, even the choice of where I would get married had nothing to do with me. I spent that night at a friend’s place. Eric never once tried to contact me. The next day, after finishing the handover at my job, I walked into the villa to the sound of Chloe’s cheerful laughter. “During the vows, you have to have flower petals floating down from both sides,” she was saying, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so much more romantic that way.” Eric sat beside her, his gaze soft and full of adoration, following her every move. “Whatever you want.” It was a look of devotion he had never given me. When she saw me, Chloe waved me over. “Ava, you’re here! I have the most amazing idea for the wedding!” From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric frown at me. “Where have you been? Chloe’s been working on this wedding for four months, and you’ve barely lifted a finger.” He didn’t stop there. “It’s for the best, I guess. Chloe’s taste is far better than yours. That rustic theme you came up with was so embarrassing. I almost became a joke in my circle.” That feeling of being an outsider washed over me again, cold and sharp. “I’m tired,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m going to rest.” Ignoring the deep furrow in Eric’s brow, I walked straight to the guest room. As I closed the door, a message popped up on my phone, one I had ignored many times before. “Just say the word, and I’ll crash that wedding, even if it costs me everything.” From outside the door, I could hear Chloe describing her dream of a flower-filled castle wedding, punctuated by Eric’s endless, patient refrains of “Whatever you want.” I gave a bitter smile and typed a reply. “You don’t have to crash it. You’ll be the groom.” Eric, if you were destined for a castle, then I would go south, back home. I would set you free. And in doing so, I would finally set myself free. 2 I tossed and turned all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I was flooded with memories of the last ten years with Eric, of a love I thought was boundless. He used to be my staunchest defender. No matter who said I wasn’t good enough for him, he would stand by my side, unyielding. My grandmother, in her final days, had taken his hand and told him she was entrusting me to him. His gaze had been a fire, and he’d nodded solemnly. “Grandma, don’t worry. I love Ava more than I love myself. I will never let her suffer.” “I promise you,” he’d sworn, “we’ll get married right here in your garden, so you can see her walk down the aisle with your own eyes.” Those vows felt like granite then, unbreakable and eternal. But I had forgotten that even stone can be worn away by water, that time erodes even the most sacred of promises. The day before the wedding, I found a long purple dress laid out in the living room. It had a sweeping train and a giant, blood-red flower blooming on the chest. Chloe rushed over, beaming. “Ava, look! I designed this wedding dress for you myself.” “Eric said you liked a rustic, countryside style, so I did a lot of research on village weddings to get it just right!” Even though I had already made my decision, the sight of this so-called “wedding dress” made me cringe. “In my hometown, the bride wears a wedding dress,” I said coolly. “Not a bridesmaid’s gown.” Chloe’s smile faltered, and she took a step back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to overstep.” “I just thought… I thought you would like it… I’ll get rid of it right now!” She grabbed a pair of scissors and moved toward the dress, but Eric, emerging from his study, snatched them from her hand. “How many times have I told you not to be careless with scissors? What if you hurt yourself?” Tears welled in Chloe’s eyes, her voice trembling. “Eric, did I do something wrong? Ava is so angry with me…” Before I could explain, Eric turned on me, his face dark. “Chloe spent four months designing this for you. She pulled all-nighters talking to the seamstress. Is this how you repay her?” “If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t even have a dress to wear.” “Apologize!” he commanded. I met his furious gaze, and the situation struck me as utterly ridiculous. When I had tried to discuss the dress with him weeks ago, he’d told me not to bother him while he was taking Chloe to Bali to cheer her up. Yes, Chloe was so very important. When Chloe was sad about her breakup, he stayed up all night talking to her. On my birthday, he booked out a theater for Chloe so she could watch a romance movie. When I was burning up with a fever from overwork, he told me to “drink more water” before rushing Chloe to a private clinic for a tiny scratch on her arm. This was my wedding. I had done everything I was supposed to do. But because Chloe had inserted herself, the narrative had become “she did everything for me.” Eric’s relatives all saw me as lazy and ungrateful. They all despised me. The truth was, my real wedding dress and his suit were hanging in the closet of my guest room right now. He hadn’t even bothered to look at them, yet here he was, demanding I apologize to her. The disappointment settled deeper, and my expression hardened. Eric sneered. “You’re not going to apologize? Fine. Then the wedding is off. We’ll get married when you decide to say you’re sorry to Chloe!” Suddenly, my clenched fists relaxed. I looked at him, my voice clear and steady. “Fine.” With that, I went to my room to pack. Noah had told me the bougainvillea at my grandmother’s house was in full bloom. I wanted to see it again. Grandma and I had planted it together before my parents moved me to the city. In the living room, Eric was comforting Chloe, but a flicker of irritation crossed his face. He glanced at the guest room door and, turning away from her, discreetly texted his assistant. The reply came quickly: “Mr. Levine, Ms. Quinn does have a record of a flight change with LevineAir, but I don’t have the clearance to see the final flight information. You’ll have to check it yourself.” The tension in his face eased. He replied with a simple, “No need.” As I finished packing, a text from Eric came through. “If you’re going to be my wife, you need to work on that temper. Chloe was only trying to help. How could you hurt her feelings like that?” “Anyway, there’s a family dinner this afternoon. I’ll take Chloe over first, and I’ll send a driver for you.” “When you get there, just apologize to Chloe, and we can move past this. We’re getting married tomorrow. Let’s not ruin the mood.” A Levine family dinner, and he was escorting Chloe. When the driver knocked, I took one last look at my luggage. Fine. Eric had proposed to me in public. It was only fitting that I call it off in public, too. 3 When I arrived at the old Levine estate, Chloe was the center of attention, surrounded by admiring relatives. “Ava, over here!” She spotted me and glided over in her stilettos. I noticed she had changed into a stunning red evening gown. It was identical to the reception dress I had chosen for myself. I instinctively bit my lip. Just then, Eric came down the stairs. His eyes landed on Chloe, and they lit up with genuine wonder. “Chloe, you look beautiful!” She blushed. “Eric, stop it. Ava’s right here.” She turned to me, her expression a perfect mask of contrition. “Ava, please don’t be upset. I feel so terrible about causing that fight between you two this morning.” Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her, the sparkle in them undeniable. He didn’t even glance at me as he gently brushed an eyelash from under her eye. The gesture sent a ripple of laughter through the room. Eric’s father sighed wistfully. “Chloe and our Eric always did make a better pair, didn’t they?” I looked down at my own simple sea-green dress. I was no goddess, but Eric used to tell me I was beautiful all the time, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear with such care. Chloe was now chiding his father playfully. “Uncle, please don’t say things like that in front of Ava. You’ll hurt her feelings.” Eric’s parents just chuckled. Finally, Eric deigned to look at me, his face clouded with annoyance. “My parents watched Chloe grow up. Can’t you be a little less petty? It was just a compliment.” “No wonder my mother always says a good upbringing is everything,” he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. “You grew up with your grandmother in the countryside and didn't move to the city until you were eighteen. You really don't have any class at all.” My brow furrowed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Eric, you know how much my grandmother loved you. Aren’t you afraid of hurting her by saying that?” He looked momentarily guilty, but with his family watching, his expression hardened again. “The point is, Chloe and I are just friends who grew up together. Don’t let your petty female jealousy upset her.” It always came back to Chloe. A profound weariness washed over me. The weight of the past few months, of our entire history, felt like a mountain crushing my chest. After a long moment, I finally spoke. “I came here today because I wanted to tell you…” “Eric!” Chloe interrupted loudly. “My best friend wants to come to Spain too! Are there any empty seats on the flight?” Eric nodded immediately. “Of course. I’ll arrange it.” His assistant hesitated. “Sir, wasn’t the last seat reserved for Ms. Quinn…?” “Oh, then never mind,” Chloe said, her voice laced with disappointment. “I don’t want to upset Ava…” Eric couldn’t stand to see her sad. “Ava can take another flight,” he said decisively. “Chloe’s friend doesn’t know anyone. She has to fly with us.” Chloe beamed, grabbing his arm and swinging it playfully. “Eric, I knew you were the best!” The contemptuous glances in the room shifted back to me. “Eric chartered two private jets just for the wedding, and now the bride isn’t even on one of them.” “So what? To save her family, Ava would walk there if she had to.” The whispers of ridicule surrounded me, but Eric, his eyes only for Chloe, didn’t hear me, didn’t see me. I was, and always had been, just a spectator. Sighing internally, I turned to leave. I would cancel the engagement later. But as I did, my eyes caught a glint of gold around Chloe’s neck. A necklace. Dangling from it was a diamond, cut in the shape of a plum blossom. My world exploded. “Where did you get that diamond?!”
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