Chapter 2

During the reception, my phone, now in my possession, buzzed relentlessly on the table. A stream of texts from Ryan.

"What the hell was that?"

"Is this a joke? You staged this to make me look stupid?"

"This wedding isn't real. You can't be married to that guy."

Then the calls started. I ignored them, letting each one go to voicemail. Andrew watched me, a question in his eyes.

"It's him," I said simply.

When it rang again, Andrew calmly picked it up and put it on speaker.

"This is Andrew Lester, Gabrielle's husband," he said, his voice polite but firm. "She's a little busy right now. Can I take a message?"

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end, then Ryan's voice, choked with rage.

"Who the hell are you? Put Gabrielle on the phone. This has nothing to do with you."

"Actually," Andrew said, his tone still perfectly pleasant, "it has everything to do with me now. We're married. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop harassing my wife."

He hung up before Ryan could respond and blocked the number.

He looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling a wave of relief so powerful it almost made me dizzy. "Better than okay."

The whole thing had been my idea, born from a moment of pure, gut-wrenching pain.

A few weeks ago, I'd overheard Ryan at a bar with his friends. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop; I was just there to pick up a catering order for the restaurant. He was loud, arrogant, and drunk.

"She's so obsessed with me," he was saying, and I knew instantly he was talking about me. "I bet you a hundred bucks I could crash her wedding, and she'd still leave the groom for me."

His friends had laughed and taken the bet.

My heart didn't break. It just turned to stone. All the years of pining, of letting him use my feelings as his personal ego boost, it all ended in that moment.

I went home that night and cried, not for him, but for myself. For all the time I had wasted.

The next day, I found Andrew. Or rather, he found me.

It was my birthday. Ryan knew it was my birthday. He also knew I' d be at Zilker Park for the annual food truck festival, a tradition of ours.

That's where he chose to stage his grand romantic gesture. Not for me. For his new girlfriend, a flashy social media influencer named Nicole Chavez.

A drone light show filled the sky, spelling out "NICOLE, BE MINE." Flower petals rained down from a low-flying helicopter he' d hired. Everyone was cheering. And I was just standing there, a piece of birthday cake in my hand, feeling like the world's biggest fool.

I threw the cake in the trash and just started walking. I didn't know where I was going, I just needed to get away.

I ended up on a bench near the Travis County Clerk's office, just staring into space, contemplating what to do with my life.

That's when a man sat down next to me.

"Gabrielle Johns?" he asked.

I looked up, startled. It was Andrew Lester. I hadn't seen him in ten years.