Chapter 1

The day before we were supposed to sign our marriage license, we were trying on our wedding outfits in our new house. My fiancée, Chloe Davis, rushed out after receiving a phone call.

Thirty minutes later, she sent me a photo of a mortgage agreement via Snapchat:

[Ethan Vance's sister got into some trouble and needs to pay damages. I mortgaged our new house for $600,000 to help him out.]

[He’s a single guy taking care of his sister, and it hasn't been easy for him. Don't you still have that small apartment under your name? Let's move in there and get married first.]

[You use your salary to cover the mortgage payments for now. Don't tell my mom it's for Ethan. Just tell her you wanted to upgrade to a bigger place later.]

I took off my suit jacket and sent a text back:

[Got it.]

I didn't want the house anymore. Why should I act as a recycling bin for this trash woman? Anyone else could have her.

"What do you mean by 'got it'? Is that all you have to say?"

Chloe's call came in while I was folding my suit.

I packed the suit into the dust bag and zipped it up. "Literally what it means."

"I know you're upset, but Ethan really needed the money. His sister crashed a Porsche, and the owner demanded $600,000 to settle it out of court. If we didn't pay, they'd call the police—"

"So you went ahead and mortgaged our house without even telling me?"

She was silent for a couple of seconds.

"Would you have agreed if I discussed it with you? By the time you finished thinking about it, his sister would already be in jail."

"Chloe, the down payment was $80,000, and I paid $50,000 of it. Did you even think about asking me before you mortgaged it?"

"We're about to get married. Why are you drawing such a clear line between yours and mine? It sounds so petty."

I opened my suitcase and began packing my razor, laptop, and spare watches one by one.

The wheels of the suitcase rolled across the floor with a crisp, empty sound.

She heard it over the phone. "What are you doing?"

"Packing my things."

"Why are you packing? We're signing the marriage license tomorrow—"

"Not anymore."

Three seconds of silence.

Then she let out a scoff. "Logan, the invitations are already sent out. Both of our parents are landing tomorrow morning. And you're telling me we're not signing?"

"Yes."

She hung up before I could finish.

Twenty minutes later, I heard the lock turn.

Chloe pushed the door open. Her face completely changed when her eyes landed on the ring and the suit bag on the coffee table.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

She marched over and started pulling my things out of the suitcase. "Can you stop making a scene? The wedding is tomorrow—"

"If we don't do it, then it's not a wedding."

I stuffed my things back in, and she pulled them out again. After two rounds of this, she grabbed my wrist tightly.

"Logan, the $600,000 is just an emergency loan. I didn't give it to him to spend—"

Her phone lit up. Facing upward, the caller ID showed "Ethan ".

She instinctively turned the phone over, but it was too late.

"Just a friend? You put a heart next to your 'just a friend's' name?"

"It's just a contact name—"

Ethan's call went unanswered, so he called again. This time, she didn't hesitate. She walked out to the balcony and lowered her voice to answer it.

Fragments of her voice drifted in. "Don't worry," "I'll handle it," "Take care of yourself first."

Three minutes later, she walked back in, her face filled with anxiety. "Ethan's sister's situation is worse than we thought. I have to go over there. Don't leave yet. We'll talk about tomorrow when I get back—"

"There's nothing to talk about."

I pushed the ring across the coffee table, grabbed my suitcase, and walked to the door.

She chased after me, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. "Logan, I'm sorry, okay? I should have told you about the house beforehand—"

"It's not about whether you told me or not." I pried her hand off.

"You only notified me after you made the decision because you never thought you needed my consent.”

“Spending $600,000 was as casual to you as ordering takeout, and I didn't even have the right to cancel the order."

"What do you want then? You want his sister to go to jail?"

I opened the door and didn't look back.

"Chloe, go find your Ethan. My marriage doesn't need a fiancée who calls another man 'sweetheart' in her contacts. As for who you want to marry, go ask him."

Ten minutes later, a voice message popped up on my Snapchat.

Her voice was still confident. "Calm down. I'll come find you tomorrow morning. We can't just call off the wedding, and you know it."