On the eve of my wedding, I stumbled upon William Beaufort entwined with another woman, their betrayal unfolding before my eyes.

I didn’t shed a tear, nor did I cause a scene. Instead, I calmly reached for my phone.

With a steady hand, I dialed a number I hadn’t used in years, sealing my fate with a decision that would rewrite the course of my life.

On the wedding day, William waited endlessly, his anticipation giving way to unease. Just as he reached for his phone to call me, his eyes caught a live broadcast lighting up the screens: me, radiant and unapologetic, getting engaged to another man.

Rumors flew that he had lost his mind right then and there, his carefully constructed world crumbling with every second of the broadcast.

When the clock struck midnight, my birthday quietly slipped into memory, marking another year William had chosen my stepsister over me.

But this time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t shout or swallow my grievances like a martyr.

Instead, I picked up my phone, ready to take charge of the life I deserved.

I dialed that long-forgotten number, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Mr. Spencer, I agree to marry you.”

A heavy silence hung on the other end, stretching for two heartbeats before his voice broke through, laced with disbelief.

“Avery, marriage isn’t a game. You’re the one who taught me that.”

My eyes fell on the birthday cake before me, its frosting slowly slipping away, much like the illusions of my past.

Bitterness surged within me, but I didn’t waver. “I know.”

There was a pause, and then his deep, magnetic voice softened, carrying a warmth that wrapped around me like a gentle embrace.

“On the 9th of next month, I’ll come to Riverdale to meet you.”

I closed my eyes briefly, the weight of his words settling over me. “Alright. I’ll wait for you.”

…

It wasn’t until the next day that William remembered my birthday.

He placed a mango-flavored cake in front of me, his expression a mixture of guilt and feigned effort, completely oblivious to my mango allergy.

“Avery, happy birthday. I was too busy last night and forgot. I got this especially for you today.”

I didn’t beam with joy as I once would have. Instead, I met his gaze briefly and said with quiet composure, “Birthdays can only be celebrated in advance, not belatedly.”

As for last night, at that same hotel, I had waited alone with my birthday cake.

While I had been waiting alone, William had been enjoying a candlelit dinner with my stepsister in the private room next door.

A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes as he took my hand, his voice low and embarrassed.

“Sorry, Avery. I’ll definitely remember next time.”

From his pocket, he pulled out a velvet box, revealing an intricate, custom-made bracelet.

“I had this made just for you,” he murmured, his tone gentle as he reached for my wrist.

But just as he was about to fasten the bracelet, a cheerful voice rang out from the doorway.

“William, you’re here!”

Amanda Kennedy, accompanied by my father and stepmother, swept into the room with a confident air, her gaze locking on William as she clung to his arm with practiced affection.

“Didn’t you say last night that my sister’s birthday wasn’t worth celebrating?” she asked sweetly, her voice dripping with mockery.

William glanced at me, guilt shadowing his eyes, and subtly signaled her to stop.

“Amanda, don’t start. I’m making up for Avery’s birthday.”

Her eyes lit up as they landed on the bracelet. “Wow, it’s gorgeous! I want one, too!”

Without hesitation, Amanda reached for the bracelet on my wrist. Still, instinct took over, and I swiftly shook her hand away.

Amanda’s face crumpled instantly, and tears spilled down her cheeks in a performance worthy of an actress.

“I’m sorry, sister,” she whimpered pitifully. “I didn’t mean it; I just really liked the bracelet.”

My father’s frown deepened, his tone brimming with displeasure. “Avery, it’s just a bracelet. Let your sister have it.”

I stayed silent, my gaze steady on William. He shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat and offering a soft smile. “Avery, why not let Amanda have this one? I promise I’ll get you an even better one next time.”

Even he had chosen Amanda’s side.

After last night, when he had ignored my birthday to wine and dine with her, his bias was hardly shocking.

With a father who only saw Amanda and a fiancé who bent to her whims, I found myself surprisingly numb, with no sadness, no pain, only a quiet resignation.

I smiled faintly and handed over the bracelet without hesitation.

“All right, let Amanda have it. It suits her more.”

My stepmother’s voice dripped with feigned concern as she chimed in, “This doesn’t seem appropriate. That bracelet was William’s birthday gift to Avery. How could Amanda possibly take it?”

Amanda, clinging sweetly to my father’s arm, cast a sly glance my way and replied, “Yes, Dad, Sister might feel hurt. I’d better not accept it.”

Her words were sugar-coated, but the triumphant glint in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.

I placed the bracelet into Amanda’s outstretched hand with a serene expression.

“Take it,” I said coolly. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Thank you, Sister!” Amanda exclaimed with exaggerated delight, her tone sickly sweet.

My father gave me an approving nod, seemingly pleased with what he believed was my gracious nature before he and my stepmother walked out of the room.

Once they were gone, Amanda turned to William with a coy smile, holding out the bracelet.

“William, won’t you help me put it on?” she asked, her tone laced with charm.

“Of course,” William replied as if forgetting I was still in the room. He took the bracelet with his long, graceful fingers and carefully fastened it around her wrist, his full attention on her.

The scene played out like something from a romantic film, a stark contrast to the reality of my place in this charade.

It reminded me all too vividly of the photos Amanda had sent me the night before, images meant to sting. In a candlelit Western restaurant beneath a canopy of glittering stars, she had leaned against William with an intimacy that left no doubt about their bond.

The picture had been perfect, too perfect, and it now replayed in my mind like a bitter memory.

In all the years I had spent with William, we had never taken a photo like that, one that radiated effortless intimacy.

The irony of it twisted in my chest, almost laughable in its cruelty.

After fastening the bracelet on her wrist, Amanda sauntered over to me, her smile dripping with insincerity.

“Sister, thank you for the bracelet. William and I will stay to celebrate your birthday with you,” she chirped sweetly.

“There’s no need,” I replied coolly, brushing past her.

A flicker of malice glinted in her eyes before she suddenly stumbled into me, clutching my arm and pulling me down with her.

The crash echoed through the room as the tea set and cake shattered against the floor. Amanda let out a wail, clutching her arm, where a faint scratch marked her porcelain skin.

“Sister, why did you push me? My hand hurts so much!” she cried, her voice trembling with well-practiced anguish.

William froze for a moment, his eyes darting between us before bypassing me entirely. He swept Amanda into his arms as though she were the victim of some grave injustice.

“Amanda, are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.

“William, my hand hurts so badly!” she sobbed, holding up her arm to showcase the tiny scratch. Her tears streamed down her cheeks, painting a pitiful picture that seemed to stab at William’s heart.

His gaze snapped to me, cold and cutting, his tone sharper than I had ever heard.

“Avery, how could you? You’ve gone too far this time. Hurting your sister? Unforgivable.”

Without sparing me a second glance, he carried Amanda toward the door, leaving me amidst the shattered remnants of what had once been my birthday celebration.

My father and stepmother, drawn by the commotion, stormed into the room with anger etched on their faces.

Their scornful gazes bore into me before they hurried after Amanda, their concern pouring over her like a protective shield.

The living room, once filled with chaos, descended into a suffocating silence.

I wiped the blood trickling down my forehead, a bitter chuckle rising in my throat.

This was the man I had cherished through the years, someone I thought I knew inside and out.

Yet it only took one Amanda to tip his heart away.

And my father? The man who had once showered me with love and pride?

They say a stepmother often turns a father into a stranger, and I was living proof of this truth.

“Hold still; this might sting a bit.”

My best friend prepared to stitch the gash on my forehead, her hands steady but her voice tinged with worry.

The needle broke through my skin, a sharp sting that made me clench my fists.

But I gritted my teeth and bore it.

After all, what was this pain compared to the storm raging in my chest?

She sighed, her tone edged with frustration.

“Since you’ve already agreed to Mr. Spencer’s proposal, why not leave now? Why stay and endure these miserable people until the 9th?”

I replied, my voice laden with bitterness.

“Because next week marks my mother’s death anniversary.”

I need to use this last month to tie up loose ends and leave with a clear conscience.

Most importantly, the 9th of next month was meant to mark my engagement to William. But I had a special surprise planned for him, one he would never forget.

After my best friend left, the throbbing in my head grew unbearable, pulling me into the clutches of a restless sleep.

When I finally opened my eyes, the world outside had plunged into darkness.

Faintly, Amanda's sobs drifted from downstairs, breaking the quiet of the night.

I stepped out of my bedroom, my gaze immediately landing on Amanda, sprawled on the living room sofa below. Her hand, barely scratched, was wrapped in thick bandages as she sobbed softly in my father’s arms.

Across from her, William’s face was a mask of irritation, his brows furrowed with displeasure.

My father gently patted Amanda’s shoulder, his voice laced with false comfort.

“Alright, enough with the tears. I’ll have your sister apologize.”

Beside him, my stepmother wore a look of righteous indignation, her eyes shining with fake sympathy as she accused me.

“Your daughter just can’t stand us. She’s trying to force us out of this house.”

“That won’t happen,” my father shot back, his tone heavy with authority. “This house isn’t hers to control.”

With a quick glance at William, he added, “William, why don’t you talk to Avery and get her to come down and apologize to her sister?”

William nodded stiffly, turning toward the stairs.

When William noticed the wound on my forehead, a flicker of discomfort briefly crossed his face. His hand reached for mine, his voice laced with feigned concern.

“Avery, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were hurt, too.”

I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly at the man before me, a hypocrite through and through.

He wasn’t unaware of my injury; he simply thought Amanda’s tiny scratch deserved more sympathy than my actual pain.

“Avery, since you pushed Amanda, go downstairs and apologize to her. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us.”

I remained silent, the bitterness welling up inside me.

This man could be just as heartless as the trio downstairs.

I offered him a faint smile, then said, purposefully reminding him of the truth he wished to ignore.

“William, I had six stitches. Savannah said there’s a good chance it will scar.”

Only then did he take a proper look at the gash on my forehead?

But after a fleeting moment of pity, his scolding began.

“If you hadn’t pushed her on purpose, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Besides, Amanda’s hurt too.”

“It’s just a bracelet. Was it really worth pushing her over? You’ve had everything for so long, more than enough. There’s no need to compete with her over every little thing. You should learn to let her have her way.”

A bitter laugh escaped me, the taste of it better than the words I wanted to say.

What did he mean by saying I’d been a wealthy young lady for so many years?

The Kennedy family’s current wealth was built solely on my mother’s dowry.

While she worked tirelessly to support us, my father had been secretly tending to another family.

A year ago, my mother’s unexpected death left a gaping hole.

Her grave hadn’t even cooled when my father brought his mistress and her illegitimate daughter into our home, calling it a “reunion.”

Ever since they arrived, I no longer had a place in this house.

Amanda took everything, everything, including the man who was supposed to be my fiancé.

William knew all of this but still dared to speak to me in such a way.

It was clear where his heart now lay.

But then I remembered I had already agreed to another man’s proposal.

The anger that had burned in my chest evaporated as quickly as it had come.

I smiled at William.

“William, I’ll apologize to her, but there’s one condition.”

“What condition?”

“Next Saturday is my mother’s death anniversary. I want you to come with me to visit her.”

“Alright, no problem.”

To him, visiting a grave was just another task, no big deal.

With a pounding head, I rose and made my way downstairs.

Standing before the trio, I offered my apology to Amanda.

“I’m sorry.”

Amanda immediately curled into my father’s arms, acting like a frightened rabbit. Her voice was sweet, but it lacked sincerity.

“Sister, I forgive you. Let’s get along from now on, okay?”

Get along?

I didn’t need that.

William’s gaze flickered between the two of us, his expression softening just a touch.