Chapter 1 One

I had always liked him, always. I liked him first, long before she entered the picture. Then she came along, and suddenly, she was all he could think about, dream about.

Ugh! I was utterly frustrated.

And yet, here I was, attending their wedding. Yes, you heard me right: Charles was marrying Caroline, my best friend. I know what you're thinking, how could I harbor such feelings for Charles? What kind of friend does that? But Charles and I had been inseparable since childhood. I had always had a crush on him.

We were drawn to each other, constantly in each other's company. We went through high school together, college together, and now, we both worked at the same tech company in New York. But I could never bring myself to tell Charles how I felt.

Why?.

Because he called me his sister. His sister! How was I his sister? Oh, Lord help me. Charles was an only child, spoiled with love by his parents. Meanwhile, I had the best father in the world. Over the years, my feelings for Charles deepened, transforming into something more profound.

I fell deeply in love with him. His dark hair and hazel eyes reminded me of summer, and I foolishly clung to the hope that one day, he'd love me back. But that day never came. I met Caroline in my second year at Atech, the same company Charles and I worked for. She was the sweetest person and worked as a chef in the cafeteria.

Her food was unmatched, and over time, we became as close as sisters. As someone who never had a sister, just a younger brother I adored; it felt special. I introduced Caroline to Charles, and the two of them acted like strangers. Of course, that was because the company's ruthless CEO had implemented a strict no-dating policy for employees.

Who was he to dictate love? It wasn't until I visited Caroline's apartment unannounced that I discovered the truth. I walked in on them in a compromising position. That's when I realized they were in a relationship.

Charles scrambled to explain why he hadn't told me, bombarding me with excuses and apologies. I was devastated. The signs had been there all along-the stolen glances, the lingering eye contact, Caroline's incessant questions about Charles.

But I had refused to see them. Even though it hurt, I loved them both. They were my closest friends, and so I did what any "sane" friend would do: I put on a brave face and pretended to be happy for them. It made me want to scream, but what choice did I have? Caroline, with her delicate Asian features and dyed strawberry-blonde hair, seemed to light up Charles's world.

She said the color brought out her eyes, though I never understood how-her midnight-black eyes were captivating enough. Apparently, Charles thought so too. I thought their relationship was the worst heartbreak I'd face that month. I was wrong. The next month, Caroline announced she was pregnant. Charles was overjoyed, and I was... torn.

I smiled and celebrated with them, but inside, I felt as though my world had crumbled. Their lives were moving at lightning speed, while mine felt stuck in place. Then came the proposal. Charles got down on one knee and asked Caroline, the mother of his unborn child, to marry him.

Right in front of me.

I watched my first love, the man I had cherished for 25 years, choose someone else in the span of two. I cried like a child that night. And now, here I was at their wedding, watching them dance, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders.

I couldn't stop thinking, That could have been me. If only I'd had the courage to tell him how I felt. Every kiss he gave her felt like a dagger, and I blamed myself for never speaking up. Unable to endure the pain any longer, I stood and checked the time: 8:45 PM.

I made some excuse about feeling unwell and left, ignoring their protests. Walking through the bustling streets of New York, I took in the cacophony of life-the mingled scents of food, cigarettes, and perfume.

The city's constant motion was the only thing that brought me solace. I stopped to take a deep breath, but my peace was interrupted by a pressing need: I had to use the restroom. I found a nearby bar and hurried inside, only to be stopped by a staff member.

"Ma'am, our policy requires you to purchase a drink before using the restroom," she said, smiling politely.

Frustration bubbled up inside me. I didn't have time for this!.

"How about I use the restroom first and buy a drink after? Same difference, right?" I snapped, trying to sidestep her.

But she blocked my path again, her eyes pleading with me.

"Please, ma'am, I don't want to lose my job." Before I could argue further, a deep, commanding voice interrupted.

"Is there a problem here?"

That voice.

That voice would become my redemption, my undoing, my joy, and my solace. It belonged to the man, who would change everything.