And from that moment on, everything about him would cease to matter to me.
The next morning, the smell of breakfast wafted through the house.
Marcus had gotten up early to make breakfast.
"Baby caught a cold last night..." Vivian’s voice was raspy, like she had been crying for hours.
I stopped at the corner of the stairs. "Baby? Who’s Baby?"
Both of them turned to look at me.
Marcus was quick to recover, his voice steady. "No, it’s just a nickname for children. Vivian was talking about her best friend."
He hurried over, pulling out a stool for me with a forced cheerfulness. "Good girl, I made your favorite steamed buns today. Try it."
He took my hand and sat me down, serving me soup. His movements were careful, as though he feared the soup might burn me. He picked up a small spoon, feeding me bite by bite.
"Good girl," he said softly. "I know you’re on your period. I made this hot soup just for you. After breakfast, we’ll go try on wedding dresses."
He wore an apron, his sharp jawline and defined features adding to his charm. He looked at me with so much tenderness, it almost hurt.
Good man. Good husband. That’s what everyone thought of him.
---
Later, at the bridal shop, as the Maybach rolled to a stop, the clerks rushed to greet us.
"Miss Lila, you look stunning in this dress, like a fairy descending from the heavens. Mr. Rivers truly adores you—he spent one million to have our chief designer make this just for you."
"Yes, Mr. Rivers is handsome and wealthy. You two will be so happy together after the wedding."
They helped me into the wedding dress, their voices dripping with admiration.
I stared at myself in the mirror, the delicate fabric, the sparkling beads. But all I could feel was emptiness.
Ha.
Marcus Rivers—admired by everyone, loved by all—will soon become nothing more than a joke.
I pulled two invitations from my bag, handing them over with a calm smile.
"Eight days from now, I’ll be marrying Marcus. Please come and have a drink with us."
The two clerks gasped, their excitement palpable. They hugged each other, repeatedly thanking me and wishing me a lifetime of happiness with Marcus.
I stepped out of the fitting room, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I emerged, Marcus, who had been seated on the sofa, froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of me.
At that moment, the door to another fitting room opened, and Vivian stepped out, wearing a wedding dress of her own.