Chapter 4

His hand, resting on the bathroom door handle, froze.

A few seconds passed. Then he turned around.

The indulgent warmth on his face had been stripped away entirely.

"Ella. Enough."

He lifted his hand and pressed his fingers against his temple. "Marriage is a major decision. You don't just throw it together because you're upset."

"October twenty-eighth," she added calmly. "The venue is booked. The dress is ready."

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "This is Lana, isn't it? She's been in your ear again. She rushed into her own wedding, and now she thinks everyone else should do the same?"

"Ella, think clearly. Don't let her drag you into something stupid. We've been together for eight years—"

"Nate." She cut him off. "The invitations go to print tomorrow."

A muscle twitched beneath his eye.

"You think this is going to work? This will only make me think you're childish. Irrational."

His voice climbed, each word landing harder than the last.

"I'm at a critical point right now — the family is in the middle of a power shift, and this is supposed to be the moment I prove myself. A wedding right now would split my focus and throw off everything I've been working toward."

"Are you really that desperate to get married?"

The words hit her like stones flung across the room.

Once, this tone would have made her flinch. Would have sent her scrambling to explain, to apologize, to retreat.

Not anymore.

But now she felt nothing in her chest but calm.

His attention had always been expensive. There was only so much of it to go around — between the deals that needed closing, the family politics that needed navigating, and the pretty assistant who required late-night check-ins, birthday surprises, and the occasional business trip that conveniently included a spa resort.

What was left for the girlfriend was never much.

craps. Crumbs swept to the edge of the table.

Ella met his gaze and nodded.

“Yes. All our friends are married now. I want to be married too.”

She turned and walked into the bedroom.

On the nightstand, there was still a fashion magazine from six months ago. The cover headline read: *“Every Bride-to-Be Must Read! The Perfect Three-Month Wedding Countdown Guide.”*

She had bought it in a rush of excitement, flipped through a few pages, and then set it down when Nate said — as he always said — *no rush.*

It had not been opened since.

In the darkness, she stared at the blurred outline of the ceiling.

Her phone buzzed softly.

The screen lit up. A message from Lana.

【Still awake? I can’t stop thinking about that woman’s face. It makes me so angry. What is Nate even thinking?】

What was he thinking?

Nothing special.

Nothing new.

He was exactly who he had always been.

The world doesn’t always bloom just because you wait.

Another long text came in.

【Remember our vow? No more than a week apart. I meant it.】

【But that idiot of yours stood there with the bouquet in your hands and still didn’t get it. Eight years, not eight months. Forget it. This time, I’m giving you permission to break the promise.】

Ella’s fingers paused for a second.

Then she typed back.

【Babe, have I ever broken a promise to you?】