Chapter 1

I stumbled into a wedding reception by accident—and the groom's name was identical to my fiancé's.

My feet stopped dead.

Had to be a coincidence.

There was no way Ethan would be here.

But the next second, the floral arch parted.

Ethan walked down the aisle in the suit I'd picked out for him with my own hands.

His gaze was fixed ahead, soft in a way I hadn't seen in a long time.

"I finally get to marry you."

Applause erupted as my best friend, Sophie Lane, floated toward him in a wedding gown.

Last night she'd clung to me in tears, swearing she'd be my most beautiful bridesmaid.

"Kiss her!"

"Kiss her!"

The guests chanted.

When their lips met, Sophie's eyes found mine across the crowd.

Panic flickered through them—but she only tightened her grip on Ethan's arm, pulling him closer.

Ethan followed her gaze. His face went white. Through the sea of guests, he pressed a finger to his lips.

Stay quiet.

"Now let's randomly pick a guest to offer their blessing!"

The spotlight slammed onto me.

Dozens of faces turned at once.

I walked toward the stage. One step at a time.

The emcee held out the microphone.

"And how do you know the happy couple?"

Ethan stepped in front of Sophie and dropped his voice to a warning.

"Claire, this is Sophie's wedding. Whatever you have to say, save it for later."

I took the mic. Opened the wedding planning file on my phone.

The cover page read, clear as day:

Claire Bennett & Ethan Cole

"Well. What a coincidence."

I looked up and locked eyes with his bloodless face.

"Ethan—do you have anything you'd like to say to your bride from next week?"

…

My voice carried through every speaker in the banquet hall.

The wedding march had stopped at some point. I didn't know when.

Every guest in the room turned to stare.

Phones went up. Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Next week's bride?"

"Then what does that make today's?"

Under the spotlight, the color drained from Ethan's face completely.

He rushed off the stage and snatched the microphone from my hand.

"Claire Bennett, do you have to make a scene here?"

I gripped my phone tighter.

The man who'd sworn he only loved me seven years ago was now standing at someone else's wedding, wearing the suit I chose, telling me I was the one being unreasonable.

"I only have one question."

I stared straight at him.

"Is the groom today—you?"

Camera flashes fired in rapid succession.

Ethan's throat bobbed.

"Yes. But it's just a ceremony."

He said it like it was nothing.

As if the red carpet, the vows, the kiss—none of it counted.

Heels crushed rose petals underfoot.

Sophie gathered her wedding dress and walked over, lifting a hand to wipe her tears. The diamond on her ring finger caught the light—blinding.

"Claire, you've got it all wrong."

"My grandmother's been in poor health for a long time. To put her mind at ease, I told her years ago that I was engaged."

"Recently she took a sudden turn for the worse. Her only wish was to see me walk down the aisle in a wedding dress while she's still lucid."

Ethan gently wiped the tears from Sophie's cheeks. Then he turned to me.

"We never applied for a marriage license. We didn't sign a single legally binding document."

"This was purely symbolic."

"It won't affect our wedding next week."

He paused.

"Claire, you get me for a lifetime."

"Sophie only borrowed me for a day."

A few sighs rippled through the guests.

"She just wanted to give the old woman some peace."

"If they didn't actually register, there's really no need to blow this up."

My gaze dropped to Sophie's hand.

"Fine. Everything else is fake."

"So the ring's fake too?"

That was the ring I'd designed myself.

Seventeen revisions of the blueprint. Our names engraved on the inside of the band.

It was supposed to go on my finger next week.

Sophie clutched her skirt, trying to hide her hand in the white fabric.

Ethan stepped forward, blocking my line of sight.

"It's just a ring."

"I'll buy you a better one next week."

Gold confetti drifted from the ceiling and landed on his shoulders.

Just a ring.

He knew exactly how many allnighters I'd pulled in the studio to finish that design.

Now the ring, the wedding, seven years of us—all of it was something he could just replace with money.

Ethan reached for me, his tone finally softening.

"Claire, stop being difficult."

"Let today's ceremony finish."

"Next week I'll make it up to you. I'll make yours even bigger."