The room burst into laughter. Simon’s friends practically doubled over. They laughed so hard.

Of course, they couldn’t resist piling on.

"Simon," one of them yelled, "better watch out! Your fiancée’s about to pull another stunt to get your attention!"

Simon just shook his head, looking more and more annoyed. "Bianca, now you’re trying to play hard to get?"

I couldn’t help but smirk. "With the Hughes family? If I’m not marrying you, who else will marry you?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let’s not forget, you’ve been saying since we were kids that you’d marry me. The whole city already thinks you’re mine."

Then, he whispered, "I’ll let this engagement slide, but don’t forget—yeah, I can give you a big wedding, but the marriage license? That’s only for the one I actually want to marry."

I froze. In my past life, Simon had followed through with his family’s plans at this exact moment, and we’d gotten our marriage registered.

'Could it be that he had been reborn, too?'

Before I could even process what was happening, my cousin Audrey appeared at the party. The moment she spotted me standing next to Simon, her face twisted in distress, and tears began to spill from her eyes.

"Bianca, Simon, I heard you’re getting married soon. I didn’t bring a gift, but I wish you both all the happiness in the world..." she stammered, her voice breaking every word.

Before she could finish, Audrey turned and bolted, sobbing as she ran off.

"Look at what you’ve done, Bianca," Simon muttered under his breath, giving me a furious glare before rushing after her without another word.

When they came back, their fingers were locked together, tight as ever. Audrey's lips were swollen and red, and there was a hickey on Simon's neck.

The whole room was watching, waiting to see what I’d do.

In my previous life, if I saw another woman getting too close to Simon, I’d make a scene to make sure everyone knew I was still his.

Simon stepped forward, positioning Audrey behind him like some kind of shield, his face wearing this weird, expectant expression. But I didn't give him the reaction he was clearly hoping for.

Minutes passed, and his smug little face started to falter. Then, he sneered, "Well, look at that. At least you've grown up a little. No screaming or throwing a fit like you used to."

I didn’t even dignify his jab with a response.