Chapter 1

The sound of ripping fabric was louder than any wedding bell.

It cut through the soft music and the polite murmurs of our guests, a sharp, ugly sound that made everyone freeze.

I looked down. The front of my custom-made wedding dress, the one I had saved for over a year to buy, was torn open from the bodice to the knee. Delicate lace and silk hung in tatters, exposing the plain slip underneath.

Brittany was on the floor at my feet, sprawled out in a mess of limbs. She looked up at me, her big blue eyes wide with fake shock.

"Oh my god, Chloe! I am so, so sorry!"

She scrambled to her feet, brushing off her own perfectly intact bridesmaid dress.

Before I could say a word, Liam, my fiancé, rushed past me. He didn't even glance at my ruined dress. He went straight to Brittany.

"Britt, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

He fussed over her, checking her arms and hands as if she were a fragile doll that had fallen off a shelf.

Brittany leaned into him, her voice trembling. "I'm fine, Liam. I just... I tripped. My heel caught on something. Oh, Chloe, your dress..."

Liam finally turned to me, but his expression wasn't one of concern for me. It was annoyance.

"It's just a little tear, Chloe. Don't make a scene. Brittany didn't do it on purpose."

He said it so casually, waving a hand at the wreckage of my dream dress. A playful prank. A clumsy accident. Nothing to get upset about on our wedding day.

My throat felt tight. I looked from his dismissive face to Brittany, who was now hiding behind him, peering at me with a look that was more triumph than apology. Her hand rested on Liam's arm, a possessive, familiar gesture I had seen a thousand times.

She added, her voice sugary sweet, "I was just so excited for you guys, I guess I got clumsy. We can pin it, right? No one will even notice."

No one will notice? The entire front of the gown was destroyed.

This was the last straw. A hundred other moments just like this one flashed through my mind: the anniversary dinners he canceled because Brittany was having a bad day, the secrets they shared that I was never a part of, the way he always, always took her side.

I had been patient. I had been understanding. I had tried to believe him when he said, "She's like a sister to me, Chloe. You're the one I love."

But his actions spoke louder than his words. He loved me, but he prioritized her.

A strange, cold calm washed over me. The anger and humiliation drained away, replaced by a sudden, sharp clarity. I looked at Liam, who was still more concerned with comforting Brittany than with the fact that our wedding was turning into a disaster.

I slowly, deliberately, reached up and pulled the veil from my hair. I let it flutter to the floor. Then, I twisted the heavy diamond engagement ring off my finger. It felt surprisingly light.

I walked to the small table set up for the guest book, placed the ring squarely in the center, and turned back to face them.

"Liam."

My voice was quiet, but it carried in the silent, shocked room.

"The wedding is off."

I didn't wait for his response. I didn't need to hear his excuses or his anger. For the first time in three years, I wasn't thinking about his feelings. I was thinking about mine.

I knew in that moment that I was done. Done with being second place. Done with making excuses for him. Done with being a footnote in my own life story.

As I walked away, leaving him standing there with his childhood friend, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I had a choice to make, a real choice. And it had nothing to do with him.