For our third attempt at a wedding, Garrett once again pulled the vintage Rolls-Royce up to the curb of my best friend’s brownstone. When I questioned him, his brow furrowed with familiar impatience. “Does it really have to be a federal case every single time? Are you the bride, Hannah, or is Serena the maid of honor? What difference does it make who I pick up first?” “You’re sitting in the back anyway. It’s the exact same ride. Just be good and stop making a mountain out of a molehill.” I froze, my gaze landing on the slender silhouette sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. Serena. My best friend, and Garrett’s ex-girlfriend. On her ring finger, the diamond caught the morning light. It was the same ring Garrett had “mistakenly” given her during our first wedding attempt. “I must have mixed up your sizes. Let Serena wear it for today to spread the good energy, okay? Be good, Hannah, I’ll buy you a new one later.” Even the designer silk gown she wore was the one Garrett had “mistakenly” delivered to her house for our second wedding attempt. “Since it’s already tailored to her, let Serena just wear it as her maid-of-honor dress. Be good, Hannah, I’ll take you back to the bridal shop next week to pick out an even better one.” I had spent six months preparing that dress, taking dozens of half-days off work to perfect every seam and lace detail. Remembering my tears and the quiet breakdowns from those first two failed weddings, Garrett rubbed the bridge of his nose, braced for another one of my quiet storms. But this time, I only felt a strange, hollow sense of relief. Because two days ago, I had “mistakenly” sent the confirmation details for our City Hall marriage license appointment to my ex-boyfriend instead. And right now, he was already driving a getaway car of his own, heading this way to steal the bride. It worked out perfectly. Today, all four of us would finally get the marriages we actually wanted. … Halfway to the venue, my stomach began to churn violently. I grabbed a paper bag from the seat pocket, dry-heaving into it. Garrett immediately glanced back, his eyes tight with worry. But when he spoke, his voice was a hushed whisper: “Keep it down. Serena’s sleeping.” I stared at him, numb. Garrett knew exactly why I was sick. He knew better than anyone that I had a severe, life-threatening allergy to motion sickness medication. Yet earlier, when Serena had handed me a bottle of water, he had watched me drink it down before murmuring with a slight hesitation: “Serena knew you get carsick and hate swallowing pills, so she was sweet enough to dissolve one in your water.” The fact that I was only nauseous right now, and not in anaphylactic shock, was a miracle. Eventually, the car rolled to a stop outside the reception hall. Following a script he had run a dozen times before, Garrett stepped out and immediately opened the passenger door for Serena. The waiting media herd swarmed them instantly, cameras flashing in a frenzy. “Is this the lovely bride, Miss Hannah? Absolutely stunning! Look at how cherished she is—true love indeed!” I couldn’t blame them for the mistake. I had spent five years dreaming of this day. Every detail—from the venue styling to the floral arrangements—had been planned entirely by me. But Garrett had handed all of it to Serena on a silver platter. A beautifully made-up woman sitting in the front seat, helped out of the car by the groom himself, looked infinitely more like a bride than the pale, shaking ghost left behind in the back seat. I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat and slipped out of the other side of the car. I had only taken two steps before Garrett caught up, grabbing my wrist. “What is your problem now? Just because I didn’t stop the car to let you switch seats?” “You know how sensitive Serena is about her boundaries. If she realized she took your spot and forced you to sit in the back, she’d blame herself for weeks.” My lips parted, but no sound came out. Right. Serena’s feelings were always the priority, lest she feel a moment of guilt. So my stolen engagement ring became a generous gift to “spread good energy.” The wedding gown I designed became a custom-made bridesmaid dress. Even the wrong parking spots, the wrong seating arrangements, and the endless delays of our actual wedding day—Garrett explained them all away as my own stage fright, claiming I had begged Serena to step in and take the pressure off me. A quiet ache bloomed in my chest. I looked up at him. “Garrett, do I look like the bride of this wedding to you?” He blinked, his handsome features tightening into a scowl. “Can you please grow up? Serena flew back from Paris three months early just to be here for you. Now you’re throwing a tantrum, saying you don’t want to be the bride? What is she supposed to do?” “Garrett, if Hannah doesn’t want to do this, she shouldn’t have to,” Serena said, stepping between us. Her tone was soft, protective, and completely reasonable. “I can stand in for her for the ceremony so the guests aren’t confused. You two can just sign the legal papers later.” Garrett reached out and took her hand. The movement was so natural, so practiced. “Fine. Let her do what she wants. She’s always throwing these little fits at the worst times, making everyone walk on eggshells. You’re the only one who tolerates her.” “Hannah only has us,” Serena murmured, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We should be patient with her.” They traded soft words, turning their backs to me as they walked hand-in-hand into the grand ballroom. But Garrett seemed to have forgotten that when he was in that horrific car crash years ago, I was the one who threw my body over his to shield him from the glass. And Serena seemed to have forgotten that when her family tried to ruin her reputation and safety during their corporate feud, I was the one who took a physical blow for her. Years had passed, and the fierce loyalty I had poured into my friendship and my love had been reduced to a dismissive, “She’s got a small heart and a terrible temper.” I stood before the welcome sign—”The Wedding of Garrett and Hannah”—for five long minutes. The irony of it was suffocating. The hives on my neck were beginning to bleed from where I had scratched them. The allergy was clawing its way through my system. I pulled out my phone, booked an outpatient appointment at the hospital, and turned to hail a cab. But before I could open the taxi door, two of Garrett’s private security guards blocked my path. “Sir’s orders, ma’am. You can’t leave. Miss Serena will worry if she can’t find you.” By the time they dragged me back inside, Serena had already changed into a stunning silk reception dress. She was floating through the crowd on Garrett’s arm, raising glasses to the guests. Whispers of “the perfect couple” drifted through the air, as if this had always been their wedding. I gripped the edge of a table, my chest tightening as the room spun. I needed to get out. But before I could send a text, Serena appeared in front of me, holding a crystal glass with effortless grace. “Hannah, a toast. To our friendship. You will always be my sister.” Garrett naturally took the glass from Serena’s hand and held it out to me, replacing hers with a glass of sparkling water. Serena laughed softly. “You’re overprotecting me again. I can handle a sip of champagne.” I stared at the amber liquid in front of me. The nausea was rising, my vision blurring at the edges. “I can’t. I’m not feeling well.” Garrett didn’t seem to hear me. “Be good, Hannah. Don’t embarrass Serena in front of everyone.” Seeing my hesitation, Serena quickly spoke up. “It’s fine, Garrett. If Hannah doesn’t want to drink, she doesn’t have to.” “No, she does.” Garrett’s smile remained intact for the surrounding guests, but his voice dropped to a cold, warning whisper. “Hannah, it’s one glass of champagne. Your tolerance isn’t this low.” I looked up at him, disbelieving, my eyes stinging. “Garrett, if I drink this right now, I might end up in the ICU. Do you still want me to drink it?” He frowned, looking at me like I was a hysterical child. “Are you really going to use dramatic threats to ruin everyone’s night?” My throat closed up, not from the allergy, but from the sudden, sharp realization of what I was to him. I didn’t say another word. I reached out with a trembling hand, took the glass, and downed it in one swallow. The alcohol burned like fire against my swollen throat. I broke into a violent, racking cough. Garrett reached out to pat my back, but I shoved him away with every ounce of strength I had left. “Hannah!” Garrett pulled Serena back, his face darkening with irritation. “Leave her. She always demands that everyone cater to her drama. It’s embarrassing.” I left their voices behind, stumbling blindly into the corridor and collapsing into the nearest restroom stall. I retched until my throat tasted like copper and bile. By the time the black spots cleared from my vision, the noise from the grand ballroom had died down to a low murmur. I checked my phone. Two hours had passed. Neither Garrett nor Serena had sent a single text to check if I was alive. I let out a dry, silent laugh. Supporting myself against the cold tile wall, I dragged my exhausted body out of the restroom, only to collide straight into a broad chest. I gasped, immediately trying to push him away, but Garrett’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me tight against him. “Don’t move,” he mumbled, his voice thick with alcohol, dropping heavily against my hair. “Just let me hold you for a second.” I froze. I remembered when we first started dating. Back then, Garrett would frequently get drunk late at night, looking lost and vulnerable. He would hold me exactly like this, whispering, “Hannah, please don’t leave me. You’re the only one I have left.” Back then, I was foolish enough to believe that my quiet, years-long devotion had finally earned me a place in his heart. Until the night I accidentally overheard him talking to his friends on his balcony. “Garrett, you know Hannah is completely devoted to you. Leading her on like this when you don’t love her is cruel. What happens when she finds out she’s just a placeholder?” Garrett had flicked his cigarette ash into the darkness, his voice detached. “Keeping Hannah close is the only way I can keep Serena in my social circle without raising eyebrows. Just being able to see Serena from a distance is enough. Since I can’t have her, Hannah is the next best thing. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.” And he had kept that promise. Over the years, the luxury cars, the penthouse keys, the designer jewelry—he gave them to me without a second thought. He was always there when I needed him, giving me a false sense of security that made me believe, just for a moment, that he cared. A warm tear slipped from his cheek, wetting the collar of my dress. He whispered into the crook of my neck: “Serena…” My entire body went rigid. It took me a long moment to find my voice. “Garrett, who am I?” He stiffened. Slowly, the alcohol haze seemed to clear from his eyes. He let go of me, stepping back and rubbing his temples. Neither of us spoke. It felt as if a cold hand had reached into my chest and scooped out whatever warmth was left, leaving only a hollow cavity. I really was just a placeholder. I turned to walk away, but his hand clamped around my wrist again. “Go apologize to Serena,” he commanded. I stared at him, unable to comprehend the words. Seeing my expression, his patience snapped entirely. “Do you still not realize what you did wrong? You made those dramatic remarks, drank the champagne like a martyr, and then hid away just to make Serena feel guilty on her first night back.” “She’s exhausted from running around acting as the bride for your sake, and all you can think about is your own petty jealousy.” I looked at his stern, righteous face, and the truth of my existence in his life became devastatingly clear. Serena’s slight discomfort was an emergency; my actual physical distress was an inconvenience. “Did I ask you to give her my dress?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Did I ask her to take my place at the altar?” “Crash!” The sharp sound of breaking glass shattered the quiet of the hallway. “Serena!” Garrett’s head snapped toward the sound, and he instantly let go of my wrist, throwing me off balance. I stumbled against the wall. When I looked up, Garrett was staring down at me, his eyes cold and full of disgust. “Are you satisfied now, Hannah?” he sneered. “You said those awful things just to hurt her, didn’t you? Serena doesn’t owe you anything. Stop treating her kindness like it’s your birthright!” My ears rang. It was the first time in five years Garrett had ever raised his voice to me like this. Before I could even process the sting, tears blurred my vision. “And now you’re crying. You’re always so damn fragile.” Completely done with me, he turned on his heel and ran toward the ballroom. A few of his friends walked past the hallway, their voices carrying clearly to where I stood. “Honestly, what a waste of space. She’s followed Garrett around like a lost puppy for five years, and she still can’t compete with a single second of Serena’s time.” “She brought it on herself. She never knew her place. She was always just a tool; did she honestly think Garrett would ever actually choose her?” Garrett paused for a fraction of a second, his brow furrowing as if he wanted to say something. But another cry of concern from the ballroom made him quicken his pace, leaving me behind. I slid down the wall, collapsing onto the carpeted floor. My skin was burning with hives, and the copper taste of bile was back in my mouth. My phone vibrated in my clutch. With shaking fingers, I unlocked the screen and sent my live location. The response came within seconds: “Three minutes away.” I waited until the dizziness subsided slightly, then forced myself to stand and drag my feet toward the grand exit. As I passed the open doors of the ballroom, Serena spotted me. She hesitated, then walked over, her expression clouded with gentle concern. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. I almost tripped, and Garrett caught me. But… during the rush, his necklace caught on my bracelet. It broke.” I looked down at the glittering green shards scattered on the floor. I recognized that necklace. Years ago, after the car crash, Garrett had been so guilt-ridden and desperate to save our relationship that he had climbed to the peak of a snowy mountain temple in the middle of a blizzard. He knelt there for three days and three nights, praying for my recovery. When he came back, he gave me a pair of matching jade amulets. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile like a happy child. I looked up at Garrett, whose jaw was clenched tight. He was terrified. Terrified that I would say something to upset his precious Serena. I forced a small, tired smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a necklace. It wasn’t anything important anyway.” I reached up to my own neck, unclasped the matching jade amulet, and held it out to Serena. “Since you like it so much, you can have this one too. I don’t want it anymore.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop to freezing. Before Serena could reach for it, Garrett lunged forward, snatched the necklace from my hand, and slammed it onto the marble floor. “Fine! If you don’t want it, then none of it matters!” The jade shattered into a hundred pieces. Garrett instinctively stepped back, shielding Serena from the flying shards. But my balance was gone. I stumbled, falling hands-first into the sharp debris. A sharp, hot pain sliced through my palms. Blood pooled instantly onto the white marble. Garrett started to bend down to check if Serena had been touched by the shards, but she violently pushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me! I’m fine… Garrett, look at Hannah!” Garrett finally turned his head. His eyes widened slightly as he registered the angry red hives covering my neck and arms, and the blood dripping from my hands. His face went pale, but his voice came out defensive and angry. “Hannah! Can you stop causing a scene for one minute?!” He stepped forward to lift me up. I flinched, pulling my hands back, refusing to let him touch me. His hands hung uselessly in the air as I scrambled to my feet, using the wall to steady myself as I made my way toward the exit. “Hannah, stop! What are you doing?!” he yelled, his voice rising in panic. “I’m warning you—if you walk out that door today, the marriage license is off the table! We are done!” He made a move to follow me, but Serena’s weak voice drifted from behind him. “Garrett… I think the blood is making me dizzy…” Garrett’s head snapped back. He instantly turned around, catching Serena as she swayed. “Don’t look at it. Close your eyes, I’ve got you…” No one noticed the sleek black Maybach idling quietly under the canopy outside. The door opened, and a tall, commanding figure stepped out. Without a single word, he gathered me into his arms, lifting me off the wet pavement. Buried against his chest, the last of my strength finally gave out. After ensuring Serena was resting comfortably in the bridal suite, Garrett felt a dark, restless anger settling in his chest. He was convinced I was just throwing a tantrum. He was certain that within three days, I would crawl back to him, apologizing. To teach me a lesson, he spent the next few days taking Serena to high-profile events, making sure the media captured every moment. The tabloids were flooded with photos of them. Serena had watched him with a look of quiet exhaustion. “Garrett, since when did you become so childish?” Garrett kept his mouth shut, but his grip on his phone was tight enough to turn his knuckles white. But by the day we were supposed to sign our marriage license, I still hadn’t called. After tossing and turning all night, Garrett finally broke. He picked up his phone and typed out a message: “Hannah, this is getting ridiculous. Have you completely forgotten that we’re supposed to register our marriage today?” He pressed send. A sharp red exclamation point popped up on the screen. He stared at it, frozen. Before he could process the block, his phone began to ring. It was one of his friends. “Garrett! You need to look at the news right now. Hannah…”
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