Chapter 3

The wedding plans moved with lightning speed. The Fullers and the Lesters were two of Boston' s most influential families, and when they decided to do something, it happened. A venue was booked, a designer was flown in from Paris for my dress, and invitations were sent out to everyone who mattered in the worlds of finance and tech.

It felt surreal, but right. Ethan was a rock. He was calm, supportive, and completely focused on me. He made it clear that this wasn't just a business arrangement for him. He was in this for real, and he was patient, letting me set the pace.

One afternoon, while I was at a dress fitting, my phone rang. It was an unknown number from a Colorado area code. I almost ignored it, but a strange premonition made me answer.

"Maddy? Is that you?"

It was Caleb. His voice was casual, almost condescending, as if nothing had happened.

"Where have you been? I've been calling."

"I've been busy," I said, my voice flat.

"Yeah, well, I've been thinking," he said, and I could hear the arrogance in his tone. "That night was a mess. You were out of line, but I probably overreacted too. I'm willing to forgive you."

I almost laughed. Forgive me?

"I'm on a little trip in Aspen with Maria and Leo," he continued, completely oblivious. "Giving them a nice vacation. She deserves it. You should use this time to reflect on your behavior, Maddy. Think about how you can be more supportive. I'll be back in a few days, and we can talk about putting this behind us."

I was speechless. The sheer audacity of it was breathtaking.

Then, I heard another voice in the background, a woman's voice, husky and low. "Caleb, baby, are you coming to bed?"

It was Maria. She was wearing a revealing nightgown; I didn't need to see it to know it. The image was burned into my mind.

My father, who had been waiting for me, saw the look on my face. He took the phone from my hand.

"Mr. Scott," my father's voice was ice. "This is Richard Fuller. Madisyn is no longer available to take your calls. Do not contact this number again."

He hung up before Caleb could respond.

I looked at my father, my resolve hardening into steel. "Dad," I said. "Move the wedding up. I want to get married this weekend."

My father nodded, a grim smile on his face. "I'll make the calls."

That evening, a friend sent me a screenshot from Instagram. It was Maria' s account. She had posted a picture of Caleb giving Leo a piggyback ride in what was clearly a luxury hotel suite. The caption read: "Almost a family again ❤️ #Aspen #FamilyTime #Blessed"

Dozens of their hometown friends had liked it, with comments like "So happy for you guys!" and "Finally!"

I felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy. Just a cold, clean sense of finality.

I picked up my phone, went to her post, and left a comment.

"Congratulations, you two. I'm getting married myself!"