Chapter 1

One week before my wedding, my fiancé Ryan changed the venue behind my back.

Worse, he made a bet with someone about how long it would take me to notice.

I found out only when my friend Vivian called.

“Amelia, don’t tell me you still think the wedding’s in Ireland.”

I froze. “Isn’t it?”

“Ryan, I won!” she cheered on the other end. “I knew Amelia still hadn’t figured it out. Don’t forget what you promised me.”

Ryan gave a low laugh and took the phone from her.

“Babe, you did it again. You just cost me another bet.”

“The wedding’s in Iceland now. We changed it a while ago. Change your flight. You don’t want to miss your own wedding, do you?”

In that instant, my blood seemed to turn to ice. A sharp ringing filled my ears.

I could barely hear what else he said. All I knew was that the two of them were laughing on the other end, and somehow, I was the joke.

After the call ended, I didn’t change my flight.

Instead, I opened a message thread I hadn’t touched in a long time and typed:

“One week from now. Markree Castle Chapel in Ireland. Are you coming?”

It took a while before the reply came.

“As a guest? I might be busy.”

“No. I need a groom.”

A second later:

“I’m in.”

I stared at those two words for a long time.

They loved making bets, didn’t they?

Fine.

This time, I would make one of my own.

How long would it take them to realize I had replaced the groom?

...

This wasn’t the first time they had turned something of mine into a game.

When I closed the message thread, my wedding planner sent me a photo.

It was the welcome portrait they planned to display at the venue.

Vivian wore an elaborate vintage wedding gown, her fingers intertwined with Ryan’s as they smiled into each other’s eyes.

Meanwhile, I was in a plain sweater and slacks, crouched beside her to straighten the train. I looked less like the bride and more like an assistant.

My phone rang almost immediately.

Emily, the wedding planner, sounded deeply apologetic.

“Miss Hayes, I’m so sorry. Mr. Prescott specifically told us not to tell you about the venue change.”

“He had us notify the guests and rebook their flights and hotels. Yours was the only itinerary he told us to leave untouched because he said it was part of a bet.”

“And just now, he asked us to replace your original welcome portrait with this one. He and Ms. Sinclair wanted to see how long it would take you to notice.”

“I really think you should speak to Mr. Prescott as soon as possible.”

Every word felt like another slap across my face.

I stared at the picture of Ryan and Vivian holding hands.

“Don’t change it,” I said quietly. “Use that one.”

“And from now on, just do whatever Ryan wants with the wedding.”

“But—”

“It’s fine.”

If they wanted to be the stars of that wedding, they could have it.

I was stepping out of the picture.

Emily hesitated for several seconds before finally falling silent.

After hanging up, I pulled the original Ireland wedding plan from my bookshelf.

I had spent months putting it together.

From the castle chapel to the white roses and lilies of the valley on every table, all the way down to the pieces the string quartet would play, every detail was covered in my handwritten notes.

A month ago, the last time I’d gone over the plan with Ryan, he had pinched my cheek and laughed.

“What? Afraid I’m going to make another bet with Vivian about the wedding?”

“Relax. A wedding is serious. I’d never actually let you get hurt over it.”

I believed him then.

My project at work was also nearing completion, so I stopped checking every little detail.

I never imagined every humiliation I would suffer would come from him.

I picked up a pen and slowly crossed Ryan Prescott’s name off the cover of the wedding plan.

Then I wrote another name in its place.

Liam O’Connor.

I had barely finished when the apartment door opened.

“What are you doing?”

Ryan came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his chin against my shoulder like he always did.

I lifted the wedding plan and slipped out of his embrace.

“The groom’s name was wrong, so I fixed it.”

“They got the groom’s name wrong?”

He blinked and reached for the folder, but his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

His hand changed direction without hesitation.

He picked up the phone instead.

It was a voice message from Vivian.

“A bet’s a bet. Don’t even think about backing out.”

Ryan chuckled and sent back, “I know.”

When he looked at me again, there was a small red jewelry box in his hand.

“For you.”

Inside was the Cartier bracelet that had been sitting on my wish list for almost a year.

Every time I passed the boutique, I looked at it a little too long, but I could never bring myself to spend that much on myself.

So he had noticed after all.

“Thank you.”

The words had barely left my mouth when he took my left hand and slid my engagement ring off my finger.

The sudden emptiness around my ring finger made me go still.

“Glad you like it. I’m borrowing the ring for a few days.”

When I didn’t react, he bent and kissed the back of my hand.

“Vivian won the venue bet. The ring is what she asked for as her prize.”

“Relax. She’s only going to wear it for a few days. I’ll make sure you have it back before the wedding.”

The living-room light fell across his face.

For a moment, I saw him as he had been four years ago, the night he proposed.

He had pointed to the words engraved inside the ring and grinned like a boy who had just been handed the entire world.

“Love of my life.”

“Amelia, this isn’t just a ring. It means you’re the one and only love of my life.”

So even the love he once called his one and only could be loaned out this easily.

I gave a quiet laugh.

“No need to give it back.”

Not the ring.

Not the man either.