Stella: [Are you out of your mind? You're really marrying that old man?]
[I already know about you and Rhys. Please tell me you're not marrying that guy just to spite him.]
[Don't do something you'll regret. I can give him back to you.]
I'm telling you the truth. I've realized I don't even like him that much.
But I can tell—he really does like you. He can't let you go.
The messages came one after another, but I stayed calm, like none of it mattered.
I wasn't losing my mind. I knew exactly what I was doing.
If this was the ending my mother wanted to see, I'd make sure she got a front-row seat.
The day of the wedding arrived.
I wore a wedding dress that didn't fit, a stiff smile plastered across my face from start to finish.
The guests whispered among themselves.
"Has Irene lost her mind? She's marrying a man older than her own mother."
"Right? And this is his fourth marriage. I heard all four of his ex-wives died of cancer. What could she possibly see in him?"
"She's probably no prize herself. That's the only way you end up in a match like this."
Rhys watched me, his expression unreadable—confusion, bewilderment, heartache, and beneath it all, a thread of something sharper. Something close to resentment.
My gaze drifted past him, unfocused, floating somewhere above his head.
Even if we'd never broken up, we wouldn't have ended up together. There was no point adding more regret to the pile.
Throughout the entire reception, my mother laughed—loud, shameless, triumphant. She dragged me along, raising her glass to toast every table, not caring about the stares, the murmurs, the judgment rippling through the room.
She looked like a woman who had finally, after all these years, won.
A wave of dizziness hit me. I nearly lost my footing.
My mother caught my arm, her voice laced with concern. "Sweetie, is your blood sugar low? Let Joel take you to lie down for a bit."
She shot Joel a look. He immediately wrapped an arm around me and steered me toward the back room.
Behind us, my mother's voice rang out cheerfully. "Everyone, please—eat, drink! Irene hasn't been sleeping well these past few days. I'm just going to help her rest."
My vision blurred. Everything swam. Shapes melted into shadows.
My legs buckled. I stumbled, nearly hitting the floor.
Joel seized the opportunity, scooping me up into his arms. His hands didn't stay still—they wandered, roaming where they had no right to be.