My eyes went wide. I couldn't believe these words had come from the woman I'd loved for years.

But then I remembered—she was already Graham's wife.

And once I accepted that, nothing she said or did could surprise me anymore.

I was leaving anyway. Might as well grant her this one last thing.

"Fine."

Maybe it was how readily I agreed that finally snapped Carrie out of her tunnel vision.

She noticed, at last, that the shattered frame on the floor held our wedding portrait.

She noticed the blood smeared across the top of my foot.

Her eyes reddened instantly, and she rushed back into the bedroom to grab a first-aid kit.

The moment she was gone, Graham lifted his chin, his expression dripping with provocation.

"Wilfred, you really are pathetic. You knew I was already Carrie's husband, and you still tried to go through with a wedding?"

"So what if her mother doesn't like me? She can object all she wants. She still had to watch Carrie marry me."

"Tomorrow's ceremony? That'll be mine. And Carrie will only ever be my woman."

"You? You'll just be the homewrecker everyone spits on."

"And don't kid yourself into thinking she'll divorce me in three years and come running to you, because..."

He leaned in close, his grin insufferably smug.

"The baby in her belly is the product of our night together."

I dropped my gaze, hiding the tears that surged up without warning.

So it was true. Carrie had betrayed me.

And she'd treated me like a fool, stringing me along for another three years.

I did the math. The baby would have been conceived the night she never came home.

That was the first time she'd ever forgotten my birthday. She said she was out entertaining clients.

The next morning, she came back full of apologies.

And then she told me we should get married.

She said she wanted to give me a fairy-tale wedding.

I'd waited eight years to hear those words.

The joy was so overwhelming it crushed every doubt in my chest.

But that evening, she forgot to lock the bathroom door. When I walked in, I saw the scratches across her back.

Fresh scratches. I demanded to know what happened.

She answered without missing a beat—a cat had scratched her.

She even pulled up her rabies vaccination record as proof.

I forced myself to believe it.

But my gut told me something was wrong. Even while I was planning our wedding, none of it felt real.

A voice inside me kept whispering: The only reason she finally agreed to marry you is because she's trying to make up for what she did behind your back.

I buried my head in the sand. I didn't dare look for proof.

But I couldn't let it go, either. So I started following her in secret.

When I discovered that her so-called client meetings were actually visits to Graham's apartment, I stopped pushing. I waited for her to come clean on her own.

That was why I didn't press her when she skipped the rehearsal.

That was why I said nothing when she texted me about getting a marriage license with Graham.

"Excuse me."

I had no interest in wasting words on Graham. I just wanted to leave.

But the second Carrie stepped out of the bedroom with the first-aid kit, he grabbed my hand.

"Wilfred, I know you don't like me, but why did you push me?"

Carrie lunged forward, but her foot caught on something and her whole body pitched backward.

Instinct took over. I reached for her. But Graham lurched toward her as if I'd shoved him, slamming into Carrie with full force.

"My stomach... oh God, my stomach... it hurts..."

Carrie hit the floor flat on her back, her face twisted in agony.

Graham landed on top of her, clutching his groin and sucking air through his teeth.

I stood frozen, unable to comprehend why Graham would hurt Carrie.

Before I could get a single word out, he was already scrambling to his feet, his face a mask of panic and concern.

"Carrie, I'm so sorry! Don't be scared. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

Gritting through the pain, he scooped her into his arms and bolted for the door.

Before leaving, he shot me a cold look.

"Wilfred, I never thought you could be this vicious. Laying hands on a pregnant woman?"

Carrie curled into his arms, glaring at me with pure venom.

"Wilfred, you think I'll marry you just because the baby's gone? Keep dreaming."

"If anything happens to Graham's child, there's no future for us either."

I watched their retreating figures and murmured, "There's no future for us. There hasn't been for a long time."

By the time I finished sweeping up the broken glass, the cut on the top of my foot had already stopped bleeding on its own.

But the wound in my chest was still raw and open.

The suffocating weight pressing against my ribs pushed me to a decision. I called several of the company's shareholders.

When they heard I wanted to sell my thirty-percent stake, every one of them expressed interest.

I told them to name their price. Highest bidder wins.

Half an hour later, I signed a share-transfer agreement with the CTO.

She was capable and ambitious, yet Carrie had always kept her at arm's length. With my shares, she would become the company's largest stakeholder.

I hoped Carrie would enjoy the wedding gift I'd prepared for her.

My phone buzzed again. The wedding planner.

The emcee sounded irritated. "Mr. Simmons, what exactly is going on with you two? First you cancel the wedding, then you want it back on, but everything at the venue's already been tossed in the dumpster per your instructions. What am I supposed to do at this hour?"

I felt bad for the trouble, but none of it was my doing.

I apologized to the emcee and offered a suggestion. "My wedding with her is definitely off. I won't ask you to refund anything. As for Carrie wanting the wedding back on, you can have her place a new order."

"Ms. Delgado will have my head."

"She'll pay. Trust me."

Because she truly wanted to marry Graham.

By the time I hung up, it was two in the morning.

I abandoned the idea of going home to say goodbye to my mother and took a cab to a hotel near the airport instead.

The emcee texted me a thank-you, saying Carrie had been furious but did end up paying again.

I smiled faintly, set an alarm, and collapsed into bed.

But my phone was immediately bombarded with calls from Graham.

I blocked his number, powered off the phone, and went back to sleep.

Until frantic pounding erupted at the door.

"Wilfred! Open up!"

The moment I heard Carrie's voice, I realized I'd forgotten to turn off our couples' location sharing.

Her voice was thick with rage. Unbidden, the image of Graham deliberately pulling her down flashed through my mind.

Had she actually lost the baby?

Or was she here because I'd sold my shares?

The next second, the hotel room door was kicked open.

Carrie stormed in, eyes bloodshot, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me toward the door.

"I miscarried because you pushed me, and Graham's hurt too. How can you just lie here sleeping?"

I struggled, trying to explain. "I didn't push anyone. He threw himself into you on purpose—"

But Carrie shoved me into the car.

"That was his baby in my belly. Why would he do it on purpose?"

She locked the doors and floored it all the way to the hospital.

She forced me to my knees at the foot of Graham's hospital bed.

"Apologize to Graham. And swear you'll never interfere with me having his children again."

My kneecaps hit the ice-cold tile, and the pain and chill spread through my entire body.

I tried to stand, but Carrie's hand pressed down on my shoulder, pinning me in place.

"Cat got your tongue? Apologize to Graham. Now."

I fought through the discomfort and spoke, word by measured word.

"I didn't push him. If you don't believe me, go back and get the security footage from the neighbor's camera."

The camera mounted above the neighbor's front door would have captured every second of Graham's little performance.

But she didn't believe me.

"Wilfred, you have no idea how disappointed I am in you! Do you have any idea what your little shove did? You didn't just kill my baby with Graham—you may have ruined his chances of ever having children again!"

"He was generous enough not to press charges. All he asked for was an apology. What more do you want?"

"You took away his chance to be a father, so even if it kills me, I'm going to give him what he deserves! I'll marry you when I've given him a child. You owe him that much! Consider it compensation for selling off my company shares behind my back!"

Carrie—the woman who had always put her career above everything—had just ranked her thirty percent stake below Graham Simmons.

That was how deeply she loved him.

I laughed until tears blurred my vision, and finally managed three words:

"I'm sorry."

Carrie let go of me and helped me to my feet. Her expression was unreadable.

"I can't have you causing more trouble, so you'll have to bear with what comes next."

"And the miscarriage—you're not to breathe a word of it to anyone."

It wasn't until I was locked inside a disused storage room in the hospital that I understood what she meant by bear with it.

She left to hold her wedding with Graham.

I pounded on the door and screamed until a janitor finally heard the commotion and let me out.

I checked the time. My flight was about to depart.

I hailed a cab and raced to the airport.

As I was boarding, Isabella called.

"Wilfred, where are you? Carrie's saying you ran out on the wedding! And that she's marrying Graham?"

Before I could answer, she caught the sound of the flight attendant announcing boarding information in the background.

"Wilfred, you're at the airport? Today is your wedding with Carrie—where are you going?"

"It's her wedding with Graham, not mine. It has nothing to do with me."

Isabella didn't even bother hanging up before turning on Carrie, demanding to know if she'd been mistreating me.

Carrie's voice rang out loud and clear:

"Mom, I'm carrying Graham's baby. You're going to be a grandmother soon."

I'd expected Isabella—who had been longing for a grandchild for years—to be thrilled by the news.

Instead, her voice exploded through the phone:

"Bullshit! That boy's been a eunuch since he was a kid! How the hell could you be carrying his child?"