My fiancé, Grayson Prescott, was about to abandon me at the altar. Again.

Today, at our wedding in the Hamptons, he was leaving me for his cousin, Dahlia Thorne—a woman who weaponized her supposed "emotional fragility" to manipulate any situation to her advantage—because she was allegedly having an anxiety attack.

I stopped him. "Grayson, can't we just finish the wedding first?"

Grayson's brow furrowed, his voice tight with suppressed anger and accusation. "Dahlia is having an anxiety attack at the beach club and is on the verge of a breakdown, and all you can think about is this charade?"

My parents sided with him, their disappointed gazes landing on me. "Aurora," my mom said, "Dahlia's mother died saving you."

"And now that she's having a breakdown, all you can think about is yourself," my dad added.

I froze, watching them retreat anxiously through the door as my heart plunged into an icy sea.

This was the third time Grayson had abandoned me for Dahlia on a major occasion.

The first time was our engagement dinner. She claimed to be having an emotional breakdown, and Grayson flew to her side overnight. It turned out she was just throwing a tantrum because she couldn't get her hands on a limited-edition necklace.

The second time was our trip to see the northern lights. She called, crying, saying she felt lonely and scared. Without a second thought, Grayson abandoned our trip and spent the entire night comforting her on the phone.

The third time was our wedding.

They all believed I owed Dahlia—that I should always put her first.

This time, I decided to give them what they wanted—my absence.

In the wake of that disastrous wedding, I applied for a secret research initiative that would sever all my ties to the world for five years: the Chimera Project.

The project's requirements were incredibly strict. Once selected, all my information would be classified as top secret for the next five years. No one would be able to find me.

I would later learn that after I vanished, the ever-elegant and composed Grayson Prescott had a complete and utter breakdown.

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1

"Aurora, we can have the wedding anytime."

"I promise, as soon as Dahlia is stable, I'll throw you an even grander wedding."

He reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, his tone condescending, as if he were soothing a petulant child.

He dismissed my refusal as nothing more than a hysterical, unreasonable tantrum.

I flinched away, dodging his placating touch.

Grayson's patience evaporated.

"Your mom is right, Aurora. You owe Dahlia a life."

I thought my heart had long since turned to granite.

But hearing those words from Grayson's own lips felt like a shard of ice driving through my chest.

Tears welled, and I bit my lip hard to keep them from spilling. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

My silence seemed to soften him, and he tried again. "Aurora, you've always been the reasonable one, haven't you?"

"What if I don't want to be reasonable anymore?"

My voice trembled, but it held a resolve he had never heard before.

"You know perfectly well that Dahlia is doing this on purpose. Last time it was the northern lights trip, the time before was our engagement dinner. Can't you see it? How many more times are you going to let her fool you?"

The moment I finished speaking, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

My mother, Beatrice, her hand still raised, glared at me with a mixture of disgust and fury, as if I weren't her daughter but some ungrateful monster.

"Aurora Sterling, you cold-blooded monster!"

She pointed a trembling finger at my face, her voice rising for all the guests to hear. "Dahlia's mother lost her life to save you!"

"And now Dahlia is just emotionally unstable, and you have the gall to say such cold-blooded things?"

"If I had known you'd turn out this ungrateful, I wish my sister had never jumped in the sea to save you!"

The eyes of the surrounding guests were all fixed on me—some with pity, some whispering, and some with a cruel glimmer of schadenfreude.

I was wearing a Vera Wang gown that was supposed to bring me happiness, yet my cheek was already blooming with the bright red of a handprint. I was a clown in a white dress, publicly humiliated.

My mother, however, had no regard for my dignity. She turned to Grayson, her tone instantly softening. "Grayson, go find Dahlia," she urged, then shot me a venomous look. "Let's see you try and stop him now."

Grayson shot me a conflicted look.

Then, he turned and strode away without a backward glance.

A triumphant smirk touched my mother's lips. She leaned in, her voice dripping with contempt. "See? When it comes to Dahlia, you'd better learn to shut your mouth."

I stared at her, a sob catching in my throat.

"Just because her mother saved me, I have to owe her for the rest of my life?"

She didn't hesitate for a second, her voice firm and resolute.

"That's right. This isn't just about postponing a wedding. If one day Dahlia wants Grayson, you will step aside without a moment's hesitation."

My parents followed Grayson out.

They left me alone to face the wreckage of my own wedding.

"Poor Aurora. It's tragic—abandoned at her own wedding, and her mother just ran off with him."

"Well, what can you do? She owes the Thornes a life. I heard Dahlia's mother drowned saving her."

"That's not right. A debt is one thing, but you don't torture someone over it, do you?"

I raised a hand to my cheek, only to find it wet with tears.

When I was eight, at Martha's Vineyard, my aunt drowned saving me after I was pushed into the sea.

At the funeral, Dahlia cried that she had no mother anymore.

My mom's heart ached for her, so she brought Dahlia to live with us.

The first day she came to our house, she snatched my limited-edition designer doll.

I cried, trying to get it back, but my parents pulled me aside. "Aurora, you should let Dahlia have it."

Gradually, this became the rule: whatever Dahlia wanted, I had to surrender unconditionally.

In high school, I earned a coveted internship at a world-renowned architect's firm through my own hard work. When Dahlia found out, she threw a massive tantrum, crying that she wanted to go too.

That night, my parents came to my room. "Aurora, let Dahlia have the internship. Your resume is so impressive; you'll have other chances. Dahlia is different; she needs this more than you do."

I wanted to scream no, but my parents brought up the same old line.

"Aurora, Dahlia's mother died for you. You have to be grateful."

Just like that, I was forced to give up the internship.

I protested silently, countless times, but I was powerless.

When you owe someone a life, what right do you have to argue?

Until I met Grayson.

He was the first person to ask me what I truly wanted.

I told him I had dreamed of being an architect since I was a little girl, and he filled an entire wall of our apartment with bookshelves stacked with architectural design books.

When I spoke of my suffocating past, Grayson held my hand, his expression serious. "Aurora, you are your own person. You don't owe anyone anything."

I was terrified the first time I brought him home.

I was so worried Dahlia would set her sights on Grayson. And, of course, she did.

When my parents suggested, "Aurora, you should break up with Grayson. Dahlia really likes him," I refused for the first time in my life.

"Grayson is a person, not a thing. I won't give him up to anyone."

My mother flew into a rage and threw a crystal glass at me.

The sharp pain I braced for never came.

Grayson had stepped in front of me, the glass shattering against his arm.

Under my parents' shocked gazes, Grayson took my hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, Aurora is my fiancée. I only want her."

Back then, his eyes saw only me.

But somewhere along the way, everything changed.

"Aurora, Dahlia lost her mother at such a young age; she's had a hard life. Just let her have her way."

"She's just sensitive. What bad intentions could she possibly have? You just have it out for her."

"Aurora, can you please stop picking on her?"

I had thought marriage would be a new beginning for us.

But today, he chose Dahlia once again.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in my hands, and forced my tears back.

I had been clinging to a foolish, unrealistic hope that this wedding would actually happen.

That fantasy had just shattered.

Between Dahlia and me, they would always choose her.

"Once you enter the Chimera Project's facility, you will be completely cut off from the outside world for five years. Are you sure?"

I looked up, meeting the gaze of my university mentor, Dr. Alistair, my eyes firm.

"Professor, I've made up my mind."

I would rather do something meaningful in a desert facility in Utah than remain their disposable pawn.

Five years was long enough for me to forget them.

Just then, my phone rang, its sound jarring in the quiet office.

The caller ID read: Grayson.

My fingertips went cold, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Dr. Alistair saw my reaction and smiled gently. "No rush. Take your time. We can talk when you're ready."

I took a deep breath and swiped to answer the call.

Grayson's urgent voice came through the phone.

"Aurora, where are you? I was wrong today. I shouldn't have disregarded your feelings and left you alone at the wedding."

His voice was low and gentle, the same tone he used to soothe me when I was upset.

Before, my resolve might have wavered.

But now, all I felt was a profound weariness.

I spoke softly, my voice unnervingly calm. "Did you find Dahlia?"

A beat of silence on the other end.

"I did. She just had a bit of a meltdown, but she's fine now."

"That's good."

I replied coolly, saying nothing more.

Grayson seemed relieved and quickly added, "Your parents were just overly anxious today and said some harsh things. Don't take it to heart. Come back to the house in Connecticut for Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I've had the chef make your favorite dishes."

I agreed. "Okay."

I would treat it as a last supper. A formal farewell to this whole ridiculous mess.

That evening, the Sterling family mansion in Connecticut was ablaze with lights.

My parents and Grayson sat around the long dining table, their attention focused entirely on Dahlia, who was seated at the head of the table.

"Dahlia, dear, you must have been so scared. Here, eat more."

My mother placed a large piece of turkey on Dahlia's plate, her eyes brimming with motherly concern.

Grayson chimed in, "She's right. Don't run off like that again. You had us worried sick."

Dahlia smiled sweetly. "I'm a grown-up. You don't have to treat me like a child."

Then, she deliberately offered me a platter of roasted scallops.

"Aurora, the chef made these especially for you. You should have some, too."

I stared at the seafood platter, not moving.

My mother slammed her fork down.

"Dahlia was kind enough to offer you food. What's with that look on your face?"

I looked up, my voice steady. "I have a severe shellfish allergy."

At my words, Dahlia's eyes immediately reddened.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Aurora. I had no idea you were allergic to shellfish."

Seeing Dahlia's wounded expression, my mother's face turned ashen with rage.

"Aurora Sterling, do you ever tell the truth? Eat it. Right now. Let's just see how allergic you really are."

Her voice was sharp and piercing, just like when she had called me a monster at the wedding.

Grayson frowned at me. "Aurora, Dahlia meant well. Just try one. Don't spoil the mood for everyone."

Try one?

They seemed to have forgotten that the last time I accidentally ate shellfish, I went into anaphylactic shock and ended up in the emergency room.

So, in their eyes, my life was worth less than a few of Dahlia's perfectly timed tears.

I said nothing more. I just put down my fork, pushed back my chair, and retreated to my old room upstairs.