The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night

"Claire, that car crash three years ago-and the guys who tried to kidnap you last night-it's the same group! Listen to me. Right now, all clues are pointing straight at your adoptive parents... and Nelson Cooper."

Hearing the name Nelson, Claire Thompson's breath caught in her throat.

Sunlight poured through the window, bright and warm. But all she felt was a chill crawling over her skin.

"Nelson?" she murmured, echoing the name.

Adrian on the other end sounded pissed. "I'm telling you, don't even think of giving that jerk the benefit of the doubt."

Her voice came out rough, like she had to force the words, "I get it. I just think... for now, we can't jump to any actions."

Adrian's voice rose. "They tried to kill you, Claire. Twice! Don't tell me you're still going soft on them."

"I'm not," she said quietly, a hint of frustration in her tone. "But we've got nothing solid-just vague leads. Plus, Nelson and I are technically still married. If I stir things up now, the fallout will be huge."

"Then divorce him," Adrian snapped. "Cut ties clean, then we can do what needs to be done."

"I plan to," Claire said, closing her eyes for a moment. "That's why I came back. But Adrian, until it's official, we have to keep everything under wraps."

Silence hung for a beat.

Claire added softly, "If the Thompsons find out I'm actually from the Fields family... things could get messy fast. I won't drag our family into this just because of old grudges."

Adrian let out a deep sigh. "You're family, Claire. It's our job to protect you. No questions asked."

"That's why I need you to hold off," she replied, her voice gentler, almost pleading. "Let me handle it first. I just want to get out of this without making a bigger mess."

".Fine. Your call. But promise me, stay away from Nelson."

"I will," she said. "Once I'm divorced, I'm coming home."

She had barely hung up when the knock came..

Knock, knock.

Only one other person had a key besides the housekeeper. And he wouldn't knock-not unless he wanted something.

Claire frowned, didn't move.

Another pause-then the knock came again, sharper, more insistent..

"Claire." A deep male voice called through the door. Calm, unreadable. "Open up."

She walked over and placed her hand on the doorknob, and then-deliberately slow-twisted it, pulling the door open just a crack.

Nelson stood there, dressed in a sharp charcoal-gray suit, not a wrinkle in sight, posture straight as ever.

Three years, and somehow he looked exactly the same.

His eyes rested on her face for a moment. A barely-there frown flickered across his brow.

"What were you doing? You've been in there a while."

His tone was flat, casual.

"Packing," Claire replied, shifting slightly to the side, but didn't fully open the door. No invitation in her stance.

Nelson glanced past her at the suitcase, then back. She wore a plain beige sweater, her hair loosely tied, neck pale and exposed. Thinner than three years ago, the youth in her eyes gone, replaced by a calm that felt alien to him-unfamiliar and vaguely irritating.

"Serena's birthday dinner is tomorrow night," Nelson said, skipping any preamble. "I'll pick you up at five."

Claire looked up at him. His face was expressionless, a routine obligation. She'd been prepared for this. Still, a sharp sting crept across her chest.

She took a tiny breath, managed a faint, eyeless smile. "Sure. Do I need to prepare anything?"

Nelson's brows drew slightly tighter. He'd expected hurt. Her calm threw him off.

"No," he replied stiffly. "Just show up. That's enough."

"Got it," Claire nodded, tone steady. "Anything else?"

He studied her in silence. "No," he muttered, turning away. "Just be ready."

Claire kept smiling until he was out of sight. Then she slowly closed the door and leaned back against it, the cold surface amplifying the weight in her body.

Serena's birthday was hers, too.

But Nelson had never mentioned it. Not once.

She shut her eyes. Unwanted memories started playing on a loop inside her head.

Three years ago, Serena Thompson was brought home.

The real daughter of the Thompson family, missing for twenty years, dragging along a history of emotional trauma.

And Claire-the stand-in-instantly fell into an awkward, unwanted position.

Everyone hovered around Serena, caring, comforting, making up for lost time.

Nelson included-the same man who was supposed to marry her.

Their engagement had been arranged by Old Mr. Cooper, made years ago, intended for the daughter of the Thompson family.

While Serena was gone, that title belonged to Claire.

But once Serena came back, everything flipped upside down.

Old Mr. Cooper, however, stunned everyone before he passed-he insisted on the marriage going ahead.

He'd held her hand and told Nelson, "Claire's a good girl. Take care of her."

Claire and Nelson had known each other since childhood. They grew up together, and Claire had once imagined their wedding, and a lifetime by his side.

But afterwards, when Serena learned about the wedding, she locked herself in her room and refused to eat or drink. The mere mention of Claire's name would send her into a frantic, self-destructive rage. Yet, in bitter irony, she remained perfectly calm-as long as Nelson stayed by her side.

On her wedding night, Claire never expected her joy to be met with Nelson's icy words:

"The ceremony is over. You'll leave the country tomorrow. I've arranged everything. We'll talk once Serena is better."But that talk never came. He never called. Never checked in.

Outside the door, Nelson had reached the stairs. But something made him stop.

He turned and glanced back.

That sinking, out-of-control feeling was creeping up on him again, and it ticked him off.

With a dark look, he turned sharply and strode off.

Claire didn't wake up until the noon, still groggy from jet lag.

She sat cross-legged on the carpet, staring blankly at the floor when her phone buzzed.

"Elena Thompson" lit up on the screen.

Claire hesitated for a moment before answering.

Elena's voice was overly bright. "Hey Claire! How does it feel to be back home?"

Claire leaned back slightly. "So far, so good."

"Glad to hear it." Elena let out a dry chuckle, then quickly shifted tone. "Has Nelson stopped by yet? You two met up, right?"

Claire lowered her gaze. "Yeah, we met."

"That's great! You're a couple after all. It's been three years. Time you two caught up. Nelson's just been super busy, that's all."

"I came back to finalize the divorce," Claire said evenly. "It's the only reason I'm here."

Silence.

Then came Elena's surprised voice. "Claire. are you really sure about this?"

"I'm sure. Isn't that why you called?"

Elena faltered, thrown by her bluntness. Before she could recover, Claire spoke again, her tone cool and final. "If that's all, I'll hang up.

"Wait." Elena quickly called out, "Since you're back, you have to come to Serena's birthday party tonight."

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Elena pressed on, "Claire, you're still Mrs. Cooper in name, and Serena's older sister. Everyone coming tonight is someone important. If you're a no-show, what kind of message does that send about our family?"

She paused, voice turning sharp despite the forced politeness.

"Besides, it's a good chance for you to see how things are done in proper society."

Claire let out a soft laugh-it wasn't loud, but it was enough to make Elena uncomfortable on the other end.

"You're right," she said slowly. "I'm really not cut out for the spotlight. Just an adopted daughter who almost died overseas. Can't exactly compare with the real Thompson heiress, can I?"

Elena choked on her words.

"But since you're inviting me so 'sincerely,' I'll be there on time."

Before Elena could say another word, Claire ended the call.

The screen went dark in her hand.

She looked outside the window, phone loosely held.

At some point, a couple of short honks came from outside the villa.

Claire glanced at the wall clock.

4:55 p.m.-five minutes earlier than Nelson had said yesterday.

She didn't move.

The phone buzzed again. Claire lazily picked up.

"Come down," Nelson's voice came over.

"On my way," Claire replied, but didn't actually move.

Instead, she walked into the closet and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

White cotton shirt. Faded jeans. Worn canvas sneakers.

Hair tied back, no makeup, with light shadows under her eyes from a lack of sleep.

Perfect. Just the look she was going for.

The phone rang again-it was Nelson.

Claire took her time. She stepped out of the bedroom, crossed the living room, and opened the front door.

A black Cooper idled in the driveway.

Nelson leaned against the driver's side door, phone in hand, eyes fixed on the screen.

At the sound of the door opening, he looked up.

Claire pretended not to notice the flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

She even offered a mild, apologetic smile. "Sorry, got caught up looking for something."

Nelson didn't respond. He just opened the door and slid back into the driver's seat.

Claire walked over to the backseat, reaching for the door.

Just as she was about to get in, Nelson's crisp voice came from the front. "Sit in front."

She froze for half a second, then calmly replied, "There's more room in the back."

With that, she got in and closed the door behind her.

Nelson frowned and looked at her through the rearview mirror.

She was turned toward the window, her profile quiet and detached.

Her laid-back outfit looked completely out of place.

"You really plan to show up to the dinner dressed like that?" he finally said, voice tight and edged with frustration.

Claire glanced down at herself like she just now realized. "What's wrong with it? It's just a family thing-doesn't need to be so formal, does it?"

"Claire, it's not just your family attending tonight. You're still my wife, remember?"

"So?" she shot back casually.

That distant, dismissive attitude only ticked Nelson off more.

He grabbed a gift box from the passenger seat and shoved it into her arms.

"Change into this," he ordered. "Don't make me say it again."

The box was heavy, wrapped beautifully.

The lid had a sleek gold-stamped logo-Sprince.

Known for its couture dresses, Sprince was a name every socialite chased.

Claire looked up. "Isn't this for Serena? Seems a little much for me."

Nelson's face darkened. "It's not Serena's. It's a brand-new design from their latest line. No one's worn it yet."

"Claire, until we're officially divorced, you still represent the Cooper family."

"I don't want you showing up like that and embarrassing us."

He gave her a hard once-over. "You've got twenty minutes. Get dressed."

Claire studied his tense profile as the same, weary resignation settled over her. Nothing had changed in three years. He never asked what she wanted. Never cared what she liked.

She'd tried so hard to earn his approval once, and now it all felt like a joke.

What she thought never mattered to him-never did.

She sat quietly for a few beats, then slowly pushed open the door.

"Fine," she said simply.

Holding the box, she left without a backward glance and headed back into the villa.

Nelson sat in the car, tugging at his collar, clearly irritated.

Claire's shift in attitude was throwing him off, and he didn't like it one bit.

The front door eased open, and Claire stepped out.

Her gown faded from a pale, translucent white-blue at the shoulders to a deep lake blue at the hem. It was beautiful-elegant even-but obviously ill-fitted. The waist hung too loose, and the bodice slipped unless she held it steady. So she did, one hand at her side, steps small and measured.

Nelson's gaze lingered.

It wasn't the dress he'd pictured, not on her. But somehow, despite the poor fit, it suited her-sharp, cool, distant. A far cry from the quiet, uncertain girl he used to know.

"Get in," he said, looking away. "Front seat this time."

Claire frowned, "Isn't that Serena's usual spot?"

Nelson's hand tightened slightly on the wheel. "Serena won't mind. Just get in-we're already late-just get in."

Claire looked at him, her tone even. "Maybe she doesn't. But I do."

She paused. "Actually, I've been thinking... maybe I shouldn't go at all. Pretty sure she doesn't want me there. And with a crowd like that, one less won't be missed."

Then, seriously, she turned around like she was ready to head back.

"Claire!" Nelson's tone sharpened-he wasn't hiding his frustration. He leaned in and hit the horn. The sharp sound made her freeze mid-step.

"Fine," he muttered. "Sit in the back if you want."

Claire let out a tired breath, kept her back to him for a moment, then turned back calmly. She opened the back door without another word and got in, a little clumsy thanks to the loose dress. She carefully swept in her skirt before closing the door.

Nelson pulled away in silence.

After a while, Claire spoke. "Nelson, how are things... with Serena?"

The car jerked to a sudden stop.

Claire yelped as her body pitched forward, her forehead hitting the back of the front seat.

Nelson caught himself quickly, then glanced back through the rearview mirror.

Claire was sitting back up, one hand over her forehead.

"Sorry," he said first, easing the car forward again at a gentler speed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Claire pulled her hand away-her forehead was a little red. She didn't look at him again, just turned slightly and pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder. Then she looked away, staring out the window.

They drove on, the silence creeping in again.

Then Claire asked, softly, "Is her condition... manageable now? I mean-seeing me isn't going to trigger anything, right?"

"She's fine," Nelson said after a beat, his voice clipped. "You don't need to worry."

"Good," Claire murmured.

Of course she wasn't worried about Serena. She just needed to be sure.

Tonight... might be the end of everything.

After about half an hour, the car stopped in front of a brightly lit mansion.

The Thompson residence-the place Claire had lived for twenty years-now felt as unfamiliar as a stranger's home.

Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out without hesitation.

Nelson was already out, striding ahead toward the lawn where a crowd had gathered.

Tall, composed, eyes fixed forward-he drew glances effortlessly.

Claire carefully lifted the ends of her oversized pale blue dress and stepped out of the car.

She took a deep breath and tried to follow Nelson at a steady pace.

But just as she was about to catch up, Nelson stopped and turned.

Facing her, in full view of the crowd, he said aloud, "Claire, come here."

In that instant, the chatter and laughter on the lawn dimmed noticeably.

Heads turned. Curious eyes followed her.

Then the whispers began-low, sharp, and venom-coated.

"So that's the one the Thompsons raised by mistake."

"Didn't they say she was shipped overseas? Why's she back now?"

"Ugh, look at that dress. clearly doesn't fit. Who even gave it to her?"

"She stole someone else's life for twenty years-then tried to steal the fiancé too. And now she dares show her face?"

"Nelson looks like he was forced to bring her. What a disgrace."

Every word, laced with contempt and glee, slid straight into Claire's ears.

She gripped the hem of her dress a little tighter but kept her expression calm.

Holding her head high, she walked toward Nelson.

Just as she was about to reach him, the music from a white grand piano in the center of the lawn stopped.

Serena stood from the piano, dressed in an elegant floor-length white gown.

Her makeup was flawless, her long hair smooth and flowing, with a sparkling diamond necklace catching the light perfectly.

It was only now that she seemed to notice Claire. Her face lit up with the perfect amount of surprise.

Then she gracefully walked over to her.

"Claire?" Serena's voice was soft and full of warmth. "Is it really you? When did you come back? You didn't even let us know. Mom and Dad were so worried!"

She reached out to take Claire's hand in a friendly gesture.

But Claire smoothly stepped back, choosing not to engage, though a gentle smile appeared on her lips. "I got back last night. I already spoke to Aunt Elena this morning-maybe she forgot to mention it."

Serena acted as though she missed the subtle distance in Claire's words and simply kept smiling, now even more brightly, like some cheerful kid, "Well, I'm glad you're back. It's been so lonely without you these years. I really missed you!"

Before Claire could respond, Serena threw her arms around her in a big hug.

Claire froze.

The cloying sweetness of Serena's perfume wrapped around her like smoke.

From the outside, the embrace looked warm, affectionate.

But her arms were tight-too tight. Claire could hardly breathe.

Then, right next to her ear, Serena whispered, voice cold and laced with sarcasm, only for Claire to hear:

"That dress. doesn't seem to fit you well at all, does it?"