She released me, but kept hold of my hand as she led me inside.
Within minutes, we had our license.
Isabella had an urgent meeting, so I drove home alone.
I stared at the marriage certificate in my hand, dazed.
“How is she?” My father’s voice came over the phone, full of pride.
“She’s the one I chose for you. I knew I wouldn’t be wrong.”
Since I’d decided to let go of Claire, he had been searching for a suitable match. He’d collaborated with Claire often in business, which was why he once preferred her.
“She’s much better than Claire,” I admitted.
Then my eyes landed on Ethan’s newest post online:
[ Thank you for being there, making my mother’s passing less painful. ]
A scenic photo accompanied it.
I knew he meant Claire. And her “like” beneath the post stabbed me like a knife.
In ten years, she’d never once liked anything I posted.
Even the day my mother died, she had been too busy with classes to offer me comfort.
That vow she made to my mom—it had all been for show.
Bitterly, I pressed “like” on Ethan’s post.
In an elevator somewhere, Claire stared at her phone in shock.
“You liked this? Ethan, did you do it on my account?”
Ethan’s face turned red, stammering nonsense.
But Claire’s hands trembled when she saw it.
Then came a new notification—my post.
[ Turns out getting a marriage license isn’t that hard. ]
Photo: my marriage certificate.
[ Who did you marry? ]
A message popped up from her.
I glanced at it—and blocked her.
[ Don’t joke around. ]
[ Marriage isn’t something you play games with. ]
