Chapter 2

2.

The next afternoon, I went to the wedding studio alone to finalize everything.

"Ivy, are you sure you want to cut all these elements? You really don't want to discuss it with Mr. Carrington first?"

Madeleine Shaw, the wedding planner, was asking me for the third time. She'd handled all twelve of my and Elliott's previous attempts. We went way back.

I let out a tired smile. "No need. Simple is fine. He won't care."

"I still remember the first time the two of you walked in here together. The chemistry between you, the sparks. Like something out of a movie. Bright. Happy. I don't know why your weddings never make it to the altar, but the state you're in now, it looks like you've been drained dry."

The ache in Madeleine's voice cut deeper than professional concern.

She was right. Elliott and I had once shared moments beautiful enough to survive countless heartbreaks. That time was short, but it was enough to keep me going through all the pain.

It was late when I got home. I collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted.

I looked around. Festive decorations everywhere. I'd put them up myself for Sunday's wedding. White and champagne balloons floated in the living room. Eucalyptus leaves and ribbons draped the mantel.

By the floor-to-ceiling windows stood the wedding dress I'd flown to Paris to commission for our first attempt.

When I'd ordered that dress, my heart was so full. So hopeful. I'd poured every dream of our future together into it. That dress never made it through a single complete ceremony.

The house was so quiet. All those thoughtful decorations, and it still felt empty. Just like my heart.

I washed up, then opened a folder I hadn't touched in a long time. My old design work. Sitting in the cloud, gathering digital dust.

One by one, I looked at the jewelry designs. Some of my best work. Something warm stirred in my chest.

Before the marriage, I was a jewelry designer. I had a name in the industry.

After, he said he wanted me home more. I dropped everything. Poured every ounce of myself into him. Slowly, my sketchbook got shoved into a storage closet.

Thinking back now, I realized what I'd lost wasn't just a career. It was me.

I wasn't always like this. People used to say I was decisive. Efficient. Never dragged things out. These past years, I barely recognized myself.

Once I saw it clearly, I made the call. I knew the number by heart.

"I've thought about it. I'll take the offer."

The voice on the other end paused, then lit up. "Great. I'll book your flight right now."

I hung up. My fingers rested on the satin of the wedding dress for a moment. So smooth. And so cold.

Sunday would be the last time. Two more days. Then everything would go back to where it was supposed to be. Elliott and I, we probably wouldn't see each other again.