There was a time when I cared deeply about Micah. As long as he asked, I would have given him anything. I would have done anything for him.

But now, he was the one who woke me up.

Looking back, ever since Ariana returned from abroad, everything he did revolved around her. He had forgotten that I was supposed to be the one standing beside him for the rest of his life.

My response clearly upset him. He snapped, "What's that supposed to mean? You're not willing? You'd better get this straight—Ariana is my closest friend. You'd better keep her happy, or I won't marry you!"

He slammed the door behind him and stormed out. Frustrated and emotionally drained, I went downstairs and headed to the park for a run.

I had barely finished one lap when my phone rang. It was Elijah.

Elijah's ever-serious face flashed in my mind. I hesitated for a moment, then picked up the call. "You're on my ship now, which means you're mine. Try running, and I'll personally drag you back."

That was Elijah's opening line—bold, unapologetic, and straight to the point.

I stayed quiet, unsure what to say. Then, he added, "Send me your ID. Let's get the marriage certificate. I don't trust you not to back out."

Something about Elijah wasn't right.

In my mind, I had already imagined a thousand ways he might use this marriage to torment me. And yet, all I could say was, "See you at the wedding, Mr. Middleton."

The second I said it, I heard a voice behind me. "You're inviting Elijah to our wedding? I won't allow it."

Micah was suddenly standing right there, staring at me like I had just betrayed him.

"Skylar, didn't I make it clear? I told you to stay away from Elijah. He's not simply being friendly—he has feelings for you. If you insist on inviting him to our wedding, don't blame me if I walk away for good."

I hadn't even said a word before he threw down that threat.

Micah had always disliked Elijah with an almost irrational hostility. When we first started dating, he even got jealous over how often Elijah and I argued over text on WhatsApp. Eventually, I stopped talking to Elijah altogether.

But now he was accusing Elijah of having feelings for me?

I was just about to press him for answers when Ariana suddenly leaned against Micah's shoulder, tilting her head like she was about to faint.

"Micah… That hurt. You're holding too tight…" It was only then that I noticed they were holding hands, fingers tightly interlocked, strolling through the park like a couple.

Micah cleared his throat awkwardly but made no move to let go of her hand. Ariana looked at him with a softness that made my stomach churn.

Then, she turned to me, pretending to sound apologetic. "Skylar, I'm sorry. Micah and I were just rehearsing the wedding ceremony. Please don't take it the wrong way.

"I'm not going to expose how you hired someone to attack me or how you destroyed my mother's grave. But please… don't hurt Micah. True love doesn't need to be tested over and over."

I didn't want to watch her fake act for a second more. I turned to leave and said coldly, "Well, if you're so eager, maybe I should actually send someone to beat you tonight. And while I'm at it, dig up your mother's grave too."

A loud smack resounded in the air. Micah slapped me hard across the face.

"Skylar, how could you be so cruel?" Micah's jaw was tight, his eyes darkening as his chest heaved with anger.

Cruel? He believed her lies without hesitation, while five years at his side couldn't even earn me a shred of his trust.

A wave of fury surged inside me. I was ready to demand an explanation, but Ariana suddenly stepped between us and leaned toward him protectively.

"Please, Skylar. As soon as the wedding's over, I'll give Micah back to you. Just let this go. Please don't hurt the people around me. Don't hurt Micah anymore."

She lowered her gaze, clasped her hands, and made it seem as if she was about to kneel.

Before her knees could hit the ground, Micah wrapped an arm around her waist to stop her. He glared at me, his tone sharp and cutting.

"Skylar, don't pull that entitled heiress act on me. I can't stand women who use their status to push others around. If you still want to marry me, stop making a scene."

Then, as if delivering a final judgment, he warned me not to show up in front of them again until the wedding.

I didn't expect that just the next day, Micah would be the one reaching out to me.

He didn't even say hello—he just launched straight into yelling. "Skylar, did you seriously dig up Mrs. Thompson's grave? I can't believe you'd do something like that!"

Confused and stunned, I immediately called my assistant to look into it. The report I got back left me stunned. Ariana's mother wasn't even dead.

It was no wonder Ariana was capable of something so twisted. She had dug up her own mother's grave just to frame me. As it turned out, her mother's death had been nothing more than a lie.

I sent a message to Micah. "Ariana's mother isn't dead. The truth is in the email I just sent you."

Whether he opened it or not was no longer my concern. The flight was booked for three days later. Elijah handled the arrangements personally.

When Micah finally returned, he walked in to see me packing. Half of my clothes were already thrown out, and the rest had been shipped to Wimborne ahead of time.

He looked puzzled. "Why are you packing your things?"

"I'm moving," I said flatly, not bothering to look up.

He paused for a moment, didn't pick up on anything unusual, and just kept talking like everything was normal.

"Preston Group's headquarters are based in Wimborne. We'll be settling there after the wedding, so it makes sense for you to start packing early."

Then, his expression hardened as he looked straight at me. "About Ariana's mother… You'll need to apologize. Don't make things harder for me. Just do it on the wedding day, alright?"

Without waiting for a response, he tossed his phone aside and went to search for his ID. Today was the day he and Ariana got their marriage certificate signed.

He didn't come home that night. When I finally turned my phone on, Ariana's message popped up instantly. The photo showed her and Micah in matching loungewear, curled up together in bed.

I closed my eyes, but the sting in my chest still caught me off guard. Swallowing the emotion, I turned off my phone without replying.

Later into the night, my phone buzzed on the nightstand every hour. Each time it vibrated, it was another taunting video from Ariana of her and Micah, flaunting their intimacy like it was some kind of victory.

By morning, Elijah finally messaged me. "Ms. Preston, the flowers have bloomed. It's time to come home."

Attached was a photo of two marriage certificates, resting beside a blooming crimson peony. I hadn't expected him to keep the flower I gave him all those years ago. And somehow, seeing it stirred something unfamiliar in my chest.

I sent one word back. "Okay."

Then, I put down the phone and started organizing my work files and laptop. At some point, Micah had returned.

He moved around the room casually, throwing a few everyday essentials into a bag. "I'm going to stay with Ariana for a few days. She's swamped planning the wedding and can't handle it all on her own.

"Don't forget, the wedding's in two days. Be there on time."

After saying that, Micah launched into a long explanation. It was the usual—he was just helping with Ariana's wedding, nothing inappropriate, and I shouldn't make a scene about it.

I kept my gaze low and replied quietly, "Yeah, I won't show up."

Whatever feelings I had left for him had completely vanished after what happened last night.

Micah watched the calm on my face, and a wave of unease crept over him, tightening in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated. But the image of Ariana's clingy sweetness flashed through his mind, and his grip on the phone loosened.

He thought, "Skylar's always loved me. Nothing's going to change that."

With that thought, he let out a breath, relieved. He didn't push further and walked out of the room without looking back.

I watched his figure fade into the distance, then pulled out my phone and made a call.

That evening, a helicopter landed quietly in the plaza. A man stepped forward to greet me. "Ms. Preston, the helicopter you scheduled is ready. We'll have you safely in Wimborne within the next thirty minutes."

I nodded and handed him a sealed envelope. "Deliver this to the wedding venue tomorrow. It's my gift to the bride and groom."