Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On the day Miles's first love staged her hundredth crisis, Miles prepared to abandon me at the altar for the hundredth time.

Every single time, he claimed a life was at stake. He always begged for my understanding.

This time, I couldn't help but hold onto him. "If she keeps threatening to end it all, are we just never going to get married?" I asked.

He brushed my hand off with a look of pure annoyance.

"Can you stop being so dramatic? If she actually does something to herself, can you live with that guilt?"

"Besides, we've been together for years. Even if we never marry, does it really change anything?"

I watched his back as he rushed toward the girl who held his heart. This time, something inside me finally died.

There wouldn't be a next time.

......

The venue was packed with our friends and family. In the bridal suite, I carefully adjusted my hairpiece.

I had spent hours on my makeup, making sure it was the most perfect look I'd achieved in a hundred attempts.

The woman in the mirror looked radiant and glowing. I felt like I was at my absolute best.

"This time, it's actually going to happen," I whispered to my reflection, forced a bright smile.

As the ceremony time approached, I carefully lifted my lace train to head out. Suddenly, I ran into my best friend, Sienna.

She was out of breath, her face flushed with anger as she grabbed my shoulders.

"Miles ran off again! Zoe is making another scene, threatening to hurt herself!"

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't think. I just grabbed my skirts and bolted toward the parking lot.

This was the hundredth time. The previous ninety-nine times had all been for the exact same reason.

Whenever Zoe signaled a crisis, Miles would drop everything and leave me without a second thought.

I managed to throw myself in front of his car just as he was about to pull away.

"If she's always going to have an emergency, are we ever going to have a life together?" I screamed.

Miles stepped out of the car and dragged me to the side. His eyes were cold and filled with irritation.

"Stop making a scene, Quinn! If she actually hurts herself, are you going to take responsibility for it?"

"We've been together forever. Why does a wedding matter so much to you right now?"

I gripped his sleeve, my voice trembling with a final, desperate resolve.

"If you leave right now, Miles, we are done. We are never getting married."

"Quinn, she's your cousin. We grew up together. How can you be so heartless?"

"You know she struggles with her mental health! She's fragile!"

He didn't hear a word I said. He shook my hand off with a rough jerk, climbed back into his car, and sped away.

I tried to chase him, my heavy dress weighing me down, until I tripped and hit the pavement hard.

By the time I looked up, his taillights had vanished into the distance.

The world went silent, save for the sound of my own ragged breathing.

The sun beat down on me, making the asphalt burn against my skin. Yet, I felt a bone-chilling cold.

I pushed myself up, wincing as I saw blood oozing from the scrapes on my arms.

"Ouch," I whispered, touching the wound. "That really hurts."

Everything had been so perfect today. I had begged our friends and family to come one last time, promising them this would be it.

Miles had promised me, too. He said he would show up.

But on our hundredth attempt at a wedding, he stood me up again. It was no different from the other ninety-nine times.

With Sienna's help, I had to dismiss the guests once again, offering apology after apology.

By the time the last chair was folded, it was dark. Sienna, worried about my state of mind, took me back to her place.

She cried as she cleaned my wounds, her hands shaking with anger.

"Miles is a complete jerk! He doesn't deserve you!"

I pulled out my phone and the first thing I saw was Zoe's latest post on social media.

The first photo showed her sitting in a hospital bed with a full, home-cooked meal in front of her.

The second was a selfie of her making a peace sign, while in the background, Miles was leaning over, carefully peeling fruit for her.

The caption read: "So lucky to have you. You've saved me a hundred times."

Miles looked so gentle in the photo. It was a side of him I rarely saw―a stark contrast to the cold man who had just pushed me onto the street.

He was a world-renowned neurosurgeon. His hands were considered priceless, the hands of a god.

At home, his hands were too precious for chores. I did everything, even peeling his fruit while he just sat there.

On the rare occasions he had to do something physical, he always wore gloves to protect his skin.

Now, looking at the photo of him holding a sharp knife without any protection, he felt like a total stranger.

My grip tightened on the phone until my knuckles turned white. My vision blurred.

It wasn't that his hands were too precious. It was just that I wasn't worth the effort.

"Quinn, you're so stupid," I whispered. "How did it take you this long to see it?"