Chapter 2

The numbness receded, replaced by a cold, hard anger.

I walked back to the head table, where Isabelle's parents were holding court, assuring guests Isabelle was fine.

I didn't raise my voice. "Mr. Davenport, Mrs. Davenport, Isabelle just called."

They looked up, expectant.

"She's called off the wedding."

Mrs. Davenport gasped. "What? Why? What did you do, Ethan?"

"I didn't do anything," I said, my voice flat. "She said she can't go through with it. You'll have to ask her why."

Mr. Davenport's face hardened. "This is an outrage! After all the expense, the embarrassment! This is what happens when you mix with... new money. No stability."

His disdain, always simmering beneath the surface, was now overt.

"Isabelle cancelled," I repeated, turning away. "Direct your questions to her."

I needed to get out, to breathe. I headed towards the bridal suite, where my change of clothes was.

I pushed open the door to the suite.

Chloe was sitting on the edge of the plush sofa, a small, wrapped gift in her hands. She looked up, her expression shifting from cheerful anticipation to concern as she saw my face.

"Ethan? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Isabelle called off the wedding," I said, the words still tasting like ash. "She's pregnant. With Liam."

Chloe's eyes widened, then narrowed. "That... bitch."

She stood up, closing the distance between us. She didn't offer platitudes, no empty condolences.

Instead, she looked me straight in the eye, a small, determined smile playing on her lips.

"Well, Ethan," she said, her voice clear and steady. "A deal's a deal."

She tapped the gift in her hand. "Happy 30th, by the way."

I stared at her, the pact, their youthful promise, suddenly very real.

"What are you saying, Chloe?"

"I'm saying, if Isabelle Davenport is too stupid to marry you, I'm not." She took a breath. "Marry me, Ethan. In three days. I'll handle everything."

Three days. It was insane. It was... possible.

A tiny spark ignited in the wreckage of my heart.