He explained that there really had been an emergency meeting that day, that he'd gotten drunk at a client dinner and blacked out.
When I gave him nothing, he pulled out his phone to prove he didn't even have her contact information.
"She's hated you for years—you know that. She's just trying to drive a wedge between us."
Frederick's eyes reddened, brimming with wounded sincerity. I pressed my lips together, brows tight, and chose not to tear his lies apart.
I tossed and turned all night. Frederick held me in silence, refusing to let even an inch of space come between us.
To make it up to me, he took me to a newly opened five-star restaurant and reserved every luxury boutique in the city for my private shopping.
After picking out a new diamond ring for me, Frederick said he wanted to take me for new wedding portraits.
We were almost at the studio when his phone rang. He turned the volume down as low as it would go, but I still caught Agatha's coy little voice on the other end.
"I heard a new dessert shop just opened on the south side of town. It would be amazing to get something fresh-made…"
A doting smile curved the corner of Frederick's mouth. He invented some excuse on the spot and dropped me on the side of the road.
I got out without a word. My heels clicked against the pavement the entire way to the bridal boutique. By the time I arrived, every senior design consultant was lined up to greet me.
The backs of my heels were raw and bleeding. I ignored their introductions.
I cut straight to the point, gesturing toward the display room—toward the gown I'd fallen in love with months ago. A saleswoman rushed over, all smiles:
"You must be Ms. Agatha Dickerson! How lucky you are—your husband reserved this piece months in advance. He even had it custom-altered to your measurements."
I froze. My smile locked in place like a mask. Before I could get a word out, several attendants swarmed in to help me into the dress.
They kept showering me with compliments—how perfectly the gown suited my figure, how it was made for someone with my elegance. Every word was a blade twisting deeper into my chest.
I still remembered that wedding—the one the whole city talked about. I'd chosen a simple, understated gown, and Agatha had sneered at it to my face, calling it cheap and poorly made.