Chapter 1

1.

My childhood friend, Sophie, had cancer, and her dying wish was to have a wedding.

My boyfriend, Preston, completely ignored me as I lay in a hospital bed after a car crash to grant her that wish.

I woke up from surgery and saw her Instagram post.

She was in a wedding dress, arms wrapped around Preston's neck, grinning like she’d won the lottery.

The caption read: "Finally Mrs. Vance! ?? I've waited my whole life for this day #DreamComeTrue"

Everyone was waiting to laugh at me, the official girlfriend.

So I commented right below it:

"Congrats, you two. I guess you don't have to sneak around anymore. ??"

…

Three days ago, my boyfriend, Preston, and his childhood flame, Sophie, had a massive wedding. The video went viral.

The internet was flooded with comments about what a perfect couple they were.

Meanwhile, I was in a three-day coma. I’d gotten into a car accident on my way to pick up a specialty bisque from his favorite organic spot.

When I woke up from surgery, Preston finally remembered his actual girlfriend.

But not because he was worried.

His first call was to chew me out.

"Chloe, what the hell is going on? Where were you at the wedding?"

He sounded furious.

My voice was weak from the surgery.

"Preston, I was in a car accident. I’m in the hospital..."

"Oh, cut the crap, Chloe. Is that the best excuse you could come up with?"

He cut me off, his voice dripping with disdain.

"If something really happened to you, someone would've told me by now. Stop the drama."

"I already told you, Sophie has terminal cancer. Her last wish was to have a wedding with me. It’s not like it’s real. Do you have to be so damn dramatic about everything?"

"God, you're exhausting. You turn everything into a federal case."

Preston hung up, convinced I was lying.

Then, he blocked me. Again.

All to defend Sophie.

It was always Sophie first.

We had fought about her countless times. Each time, he made me feel like I was the crazy one, the one with the conspiracy theories.

I opened my phone and scrolled through Instagram.

Sure enough, Sophie had a new post.

That picture of her in the wedding dress, clinging to Preston, beaming with pure joy.

"Finally Mrs. Vance! ?? I've waited my whole life for this day #DreamComeTrue"

The comments were a sea of congratulations, calling them the golden couple, a match made in heaven.

Everyone was just waiting for me, the girlfriend, to become a laughingstock.

Preston and I had been together for eight years. I’d asked him to marry me more times than I could count.

He shot me down every single time.

"Marriage? Is that all you think about? God, Chloe, you’re draining the life out of me. Mention it one more time, and we're done."

But Sophie just had to whisper that she wanted a wedding, and he didn't hesitate. He left me in a hospital bed to give her one.

Usually, when he got tangled up with Sophie, I forced myself to stay calm.

But this time, I think I finally just… didn't care anymore.

After that day, Preston and I fell into a cold war.

In our eight years together, every time we fought, I was always the one to crawl back. I’d beg and plead for his forgiveness until he was satisfied―no matter who was right or wrong.

My best friends thought I was pathetic, a total doormat. They couldn't stand to look at me.

But I didn't care, as long as Preston was happy.

When he’d finally take me back, a hug or a kiss was all it took. He didn't even have to say anything sweet. I’d forget everything.

I treated him like a king, and I was always the one on my knees.

Every time he got mad at me, I wanted to kill myself. I couldn't eat. All I could think about was how to make him happy again.

I even stood outside his office in the pouring rain, just hoping he'd feel sorry for me and take me back.

This time, though, I was strangely calm.

The accident wasn't too severe. I hired a caregiver to help me. The day I was discharged, I handled the paperwork myself and went home.

I didn't call Preston.

But surprisingly, he texted me.

"How about the beach at Lake Michigan tomorrow?"