Their harsh words made me tremble with anger, and just then, Giselle walked up to me and took my hand.

She was wearing a wedding dress identical to mine. I couldn’t help but think of the late-night message I’d accidentally seen in Frederick’s group chat—the intimate photos he’d shared of the two of them. My emotions crumbled.

“Gracie, you misunderstood,” she said softly, eyes brimming with innocence. “There’s nothing between me and Frederick. How could you think like that of us? I’m your best friend—you know me.”

My future mother-in-law suddenly stepped forward, face twisted with fury. “My son lost his memory saving you after getting hit by a truck, and this is how you repay him? You're a heartless wench!”

With a loud smack, her hand landed harshly across my face.

Giselle tried to stop her, but in the chaos, she tripped and fell off the edge of the stage.

It was only a thirty-centimeter drop, yet she curled on the floor, clutching her arm as if it were broken.

Frederick shoved me aside and jumped down to her, scooping her up in his arms with a look of panic.

“My arm—Freddy, it feels like it's broken!”

She looked at me through tearful eyes. “I know you’re angry, Gracie. You’re upset I wore the same dress and put on your ring—I’m sorry. But why... why would you push me? I thought we were friends. I never imagined you'd hurt me like this.”

Frederick, drenched in sweat from panic, dialed 911 for an ambulance and held her close. Then he turned to me with cold fury burning in his eyes as I stood on the stage, clutching my stomach in pain.

“You better pray she’s okay. A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to be my wife. I must have been blind before I lost my memory to ever love someone like you!”

Tears blurred my vision as I looked at his face—once full of affection, now twisted with disdain. I couldn’t stop crying.

Pain flared in my lower abdomen, and I curled up on the stage in agony.

Noticing my actions, Frederick narrowed his eyes.

"Since when did you start stooping so low, Gracie?” he sneered. “Pretending to be pitiful in front of me? It's honestly disgusting.”

With that, he stormed out of the wedding hall.

Most of the guests had already left. His mother followed him out without a second glance.

I was left pale and trembling, the pain in my belly intensifying. As an orphan, I had no family—only Giselle, the very woman who now clung to my fiancé.

Frederick’s older cousin looked down at me, his words sharp as daggers.

“No wonder Frederick is fed up with you. Look at yourself—do you think you act like a decent wife?”

Without caring about my condition, he yanked me up by the arm and dragged me to the hospital.

I was in too much pain to resist. Every step made the heaviness in my abdomen worse.

When we finally reached the hospital entrance, Frederick's cousin tried to stop me, suggesting we wait to hear about Giselle's condition. But the moment we stepped into the lobby, I collapsed and lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, an IV in my hand.

The room was empty.

“Don’t move,” a nurse said briskly. “You’ve just had a miscarriage. You need to rest. You’ll be discharged once the IV is done.”

My whole body froze.

I stared at her in disbelief, my voice hoarse. “What... did you say? A miscarriage? I just had stomach pain...”

Before the nurse could respond, the door burst open.

Frederick marched in, full of rage, and yanked the blanket off of me.

“Get up! Apologize to Gracie! Do you even realize what you’ve done? You pushed her off the stage and dislocated her arm! If she doesn’t recover properly, she could suffer from chronic dislocations for life. And you know how much she loves tennis!”

My body was so weak after the procedure that even a breeze could knock me over. But Frederick didn't seem to notice.

Before he lost his memory, he had always been so attentive to me.

We traveled together, climbed mountains side by side. When a tree branch scratched my forearm, he didn't hesitate—despite the long journey ahead, he insisted on taking me to get disinfected and properly bandaged.

But now, for the sake of Giselle, he completely disregards my fragile state after a miscarriage, forcing me to stand and apologize—as if none of that past ever mattered.

Seeing me still lying in bed, he lost all patience.

“You lost a baby—so what? We can have another. But Gracie might never play tennis again!”

I looked up at him, broken, stunned by how the man I once loved had become so heartless.

“I didn’t push her. She fell. I won’t apologize. And let me say it again—our wedding is canceled. We’re done. I regret ever registering for marriage with you.”

Frederick’s face froze. His eyes widened in disbelief, and it took him a long time to react.

“Gracie, are you out of your mind? Do you know how many friends and relatives we invited? I’ll let today’s tantrum slide, but in a few days, we’re going to apologize to everyone—and complete the wedding.”

My hand clutched the sheets tightly as a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

“Frederick, I’m not going to apologize to Giselle, and definitely won’t go through with any wedding. The moment you betrayed me with her, whatever we had was over.”

Giselle, sensing our argument spiraling, feigned fragility as she clutched Frederick’s arm.

“Freddy, don’t fight with Gracie because of me. I’m not worth it. It’s just a dislocated arm. If it comes to that, I’ll stop playing tennis. I really don’t want to be the reason your wedding is canceled.”

Her words reeled Frederick back in.

He ignored my condition and yanked my arm, trying to drag me up from the bed.

“Apologize to Gracie, and we’ll put all this behind us. You don’t have to threaten me with breaking up. Where would you even go without me?”

“Frederick! Let me go!”

The more I struggled, the tighter his grip became. He hauled me off the bed, completely ignoring the IV still in my hand.

Blood trickled from where the needle had been ripped out, but Frederick didn’t even flinch.

Tears streamed silently down my face, and a choked sob escaped my throat.

“It hurts, Frederick...”

“Apologize!”

When I didn’t respond, his temper snapped. He twisted my arm again, and a sickening crack echoed in the room. Both of us froze.

Moments later, Frederick dashed out and returned with a doctor.

Just like Giselle, my arm was now dislocated.

Frederick stood there awkwardly, guilt flickering in his eyes as he finally spoke.

“You and Gracie are even now. She said she won’t hold it against you. Just... focus on recovering.”

I stared up at the ceiling, vision blurred with tears.

The sound of my heart breaking was louder than my sobs, a sharp, unbearable ache in my chest.

Later, Frederick brought us both back to the villa in the woods.

He claimed he’d make bone broth for our recovery, then left again.

Now, only Giselle and I were left in the villa.

She casually tossed her bag onto the couch and looked around with the arrogance of a hostess.

“This is your first time here, right? Did you know that in the master bedroom upstairs, there are wedding photos of Frederick and me, along with snapshots of every happy moment from our trips? He told me to take them down, but I didn’t want to. Why hide it? Anyway, he only agreed to marry you because you saved his life once.”

I clenched my jaw, using the back of the sofa for support. Her words cut deep, but I didn’t want to believe them.

Frederick had once told me this villa was meant to be our love nest after marriage. Every detail, every piece of décor, had been chosen according to my preferences.

At that time, he had looked at me with eyes full of dreams about our future—and I had believed him.

But now, after losing his memory, he had turned this place into their home.

I followed her numbly upstairs.

The entire aesthetic had changed. Wedding photos of the two of them hung proudly on the walls, alongside candid shots of their daily life.

In the corner stood a small crib.

“Isn’t Frederick ridiculous?” Giselle giggled. “We haven’t even talked about kids yet and he has already set up a nursery next door—and a family activity room for the three of us. Want a tour?”

Every photo, every word she said, shattered another piece of me.

Each step I took felt like walking through knives.

I had never hated Frederick more than I did now. I had never felt such searing heartbreak.

“Whenever Frederick takes me to see his friends, he always encourages me to hang out with their girlfriends. I'm not great at socializing—honestly, I have a bit of social anxiety. They call me 'sister-in-law,' and it always makes me feel a little awkward.”

My eyes were red, ears ringing. Suddenly, everything made sense.

Frederick had never introduced me to his friends. When they visited, he’d send me out for a walk or even book me a hotel room.

He just didn’t want them to know I existed.

“You know, the initials inside the wedding ring? He had them engraved on your birthday.”

No wonder he’d come home drunk that night, just before midnight.

He had brought a small cake and a designer bracelet. I had caught a glimpse of the wedding ring falling out of his pocket and thought he might propose.

But the next morning, he took the ring and left. I had told myself maybe he wanted to surprise me on the wedding day.

I never imagined the ring was meant for her all along.

I stood frozen as Giselle gleefully spilled the truth.

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

“He’s just a man I no longer want. If you want him, keep him. I must’ve been blind to ever think you were a true friend. No—calling you a ‘friend’ is an insult to the word.”

To my surprise, Giselle didn’t get angry at my words. Instead, she slowly pulled a sharp, glinting hairpin from her pocket.

“I know you’re furious right now,” she said, her voice eerily calm, “but I’ve had enough of that smug, self-righteous look on your face. I’m prettier than you, I had better grades than you—and yet, I ended up with a piece of trash. But you? You’re just a worthless orphan. Why should someone like you get to have a man like Frederick?”

"You shouldn't live better than me!" she seethed.

Before I could react, she slashed her own wrist with the hairpin. Then she charged toward me, and with a swift motion, sliced my face.

She flung the hairpin down the stairs and clutched her bleeding wrist before running off.

My face burned with pain. I hurried to the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel to stop the bleeding.

Then her piercing scream rang out from below.

“Help! She tried to kill me! Frederick, help—Gracie is trying to kill me!”

Frederick had just stepped through the door when he saw Giselle running toward him, blood gushing from her wrist. His heart dropped.

Instinctively, he looked around for me.

He saw me descending the stairs with a towel pressed to my bleeding face, my presence heavy with silent fury.

He immediately called the family doctor, urging them to come as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, he began treating Giselle’s wounds, all while glaring at me like I was a monster.

“Gracie, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? You really think you can get away with attempted murder?!”

Oddly, I felt calm. As I watched him hold Giselle in his arms, trembling and whimpering, a cold numbness spread through me.

“What if I told you Giselle attacked me first—and that she cut herself to frame me? Would you believe me?”

Frederick’s face darkened, and his brows furrowed deeply.

“Do you think I’d believe that? Gracie can’t even kill a bug. Why are you blaming her for your miscarriage? That’s pathetic!”

His words stung more than the cut on my face. A bitter laugh escaped me, tinged with the pain of betrayal.

“So whatever she says, you believe? I carried your child. I lost that child. And none of that matters to you because of a few fake tears and a self-inflicted cut?”

I wiped away my tears and slowly bent to pick up the discarded hairpin. Then, heartbroken and numb, I stepped toward Frederick.

“If you don't apologize to Giselle, get on your knees and beg her forgiveness, then forget the wedding. We’ll file for divorce,” he said coldly.

I scoffed and looked at him with dead eyes.

Then, in one swift motion while neither of them was watching, I slashed the back of Giselle’s hand with the hairpin.

“Aahhh—!”

Blood welled up instantly. Giselle screamed, shrinking into Frederick’s arms like a terrified child.

“There,” I said, my voice was like ice. “That’s what it looks like when I actually hurt her.”

Frederick looked stunned—but only for a second. Fury overtook his expression, and he kicked me hard in the stomach.

I had just been discharged after a miscarriage—how could I possibly withstand that?

I collapsed to the ground, clutching my abdomen, unable to even cry out. My face throbbed from the earlier cut, but I barely noticed.

Blood seeped onto the floor.

Only then did Frederick realize he might have gone too far. His face paled as panic flickered in his voice.

“Gracie... are you okay?”

Before he could do anything else, Giselle cried out again.

“Frederick, my hand! It hurts so much! What if I can never play tennis again?”

He hesitated for a second—just one—then scooped her up and rushed out the door.

“I called the family doctor. Hold on a bit longer.”

After saying that, he didn’t look back.

I stared after him, my body trembling, my skin drained of color. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched my abdomen in silence.

The doctor arrived shortly after. By then, I was nearly unconscious from the pain.

After being rushed to the hospital and undergoing a full examination, I received the diagnosis—my uterus had sustained significant trauma. A slightly harder impact could’ve caused internal bleeding—possibly even death.

The doctor gently recommended seeing a cosmetic specialist for my facial injury, warning that it might leave a permanent scar if untreated.

But I just shook my head.

“No, thank you,” I said in a flat voice.

He told me the wound might heal naturally, though scarring would depend on my skin’s recovery ability.

I returned to the suburban villa with the cut still raw on my face.

It was dark inside, except for a single room upstairs—the one that had once been my bridal suite. Now, it was their den of betrayal.

From the hallway, I heard the unmistakable sounds of moaning and laughter.

Drawn by something beyond reason, I climbed the stairs one step at a time.

At the door, I heard Giselle’s sultry voice.

“Why are you still going through with the wedding? Now that she knows everything, just break it off. Wouldn’t it be better to make me your bride?”

Through the narrow gap in the door, I saw them—their bodies tangled together.

Frederick’s voice was low and casual as he responded, “I have a reputation to maintain. Everyone already knows I’m marrying Gracie. If we divorce now, how would that look? It would ruin my company’s IPO. Just be patient, baby. Once everything stabilizes. I’ll dump her.”