Chapter 1

The crystal chandeliers of the Beaumont Grand Ballroom glittered, casting a warm glow over the rehearsal dinner, my rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow, I, Ethan Reed, would marry Isabelle Davenport. I watched her across the room, a vision in her white silk dress, laughing with her friends, and my chest swelled. She was everything, beautiful, from a family whose name opened doors mine was just starting to crack.

My parents beamed from our table, proud of their son, the "new money" success story, marrying into old prestige. Isabelle's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, maintained a polite, if somewhat cool, demeanor, their approval a prize I thought I'd almost won.

Then Isabelle's laughter faltered, her hand flying to her mouth, her face suddenly pale.

Liam, her step-brother, was at her side in an instant, his arm around her waist.

"Izzy, you okay?" he murmured, his concern almost too pronounced.

She shook her head, a greenish tint now coloring her skin.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Liam didn't hesitate. "I'll take you to a doctor, just to be safe."

He swept her out of the ballroom before I could even stand up, leaving a ripple of concerned murmurs.

Mrs. Davenport hurried over to me. "Oh, Ethan, dear, I'm sure it's just nerves. Don't you worry." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

I tried to reassure her, and myself, but a knot of unease tightened in my stomach.

An hour later, my phone buzzed. Isabelle.

"Ethan," her voice was weak, but there was an edge to it I didn't recognize.

"Izzy, what did the doctor say? Are you alright?"

"I'm pregnant, Ethan."

My world tilted. Pregnant? We hadn't been careless. A wave of confused joy started to rise.

"That's... that's amazing, Izzy! A bit of a surprise, but amazing!"

Her next words shattered the joy. "It's Liam's."

The ballroom sounds faded, the glittering lights blurred. Liam's. Her step-brother.

"What?" The word was a choked whisper.

"It just happened, Ethan. We have to postpone the wedding. For a year, maybe more."

Her voice gained strength, a demanding tone seeping in.

"You need to tell everyone it was your decision, something about work stress. And you'll need to quit your job, that demanding finance thing you do, you need to be here for me, to take care of me."

My mind reeled, unable to process the barrage. Quit my job? The one I'd built from nothing?

"And Liam," she continued, as if discussing dinner plans, "he'll need to live with us, of course. He's the father, he needs to be involved, and he's very sensitive right now."

Liam, sensitive. The man who had just cuckolded me.

"Isabelle..." I couldn't form a coherent thought. My heart felt like a stone.

"It's the only way, Ethan. For the baby. For appearances. You understand."

Understand? No, I didn't understand anything except the crushing weight of betrayal.

"Okay," I heard myself say, the word numb, distant. "Okay, Isabelle."

She sighed, a sound of relief. "Good. I knew you'd see reason. I'll call you later with the details of the announcement."

She hung up.

I stood there, phone pressed to my ear, the dial tone buzzing. Devastated wasn't a strong enough word. My future, the one I'd meticulously planned, had just been obliterated.

Then, a memory surfaced, sharp and clear, a lifeline in the sudden darkness.

A pact. Made years ago, under a starry sky, with my best friend, Chloe.

If I wasn't married by my 30th birthday...

I glanced at my watch. It was 11:58 PM.

My 30th birthday. Today.

And Chloe's laughing voice echoed in my mind: "If you hit the big three-oh still single, Ethan Reed, you're mine. We marry each other. Deal?"

"Deal," my younger self had said, equally laughing.

It wasn't a joke anymore.