In it, she stood on the deck of a yacht, fishing in a bikini. A man’s arms wrapped snugly around her slim waist from behind. Even from the shaky footage, I recognized the watch on his wrist—it was the birthday gift I had given Brian last year.
The location tag read Thailand. A dull ache spread through my chest, sharp and relentless. So, the reason Brian postponed our wedding wasn’t because of work. It was to accompany the woman he truly cherished on a fishing trip.
I went through the motions of washing up, then booked a cab back to the villa to pack my things. Just as I was zipping up my suitcase, the bridal brand Brian had arranged for stopped by to deliver a wedding dress sample.
“Delivery for Laurel Gibbs. A custom-made gown from Mr. Rocha. Congratulation for your wedding, Miss Gibbs,” the delivery person announced brightly.
I froze for a moment, staring at the garment bag they held. It bore the unmistakable logo of MN’s high-end bridal collection. The gown Brian had picked for me during our trip to MN’s headquarters was merely a limited-edition runway piece. This, however, was a bespoke masterpiece, crafted with precision and care. The difference wasn’t just in the craftsmanship—it was in intention.
I forced a bitter smile. “Thank you, but I’m not Laurel.”
The delivery person looked at me, confused. Their expression shifted as realization dawned. They stammered out a series of apologies before scurrying away, clearly embarrassed.
As I watched the delivery crew leave, I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye. Brian had just returned—and Laurel was with him.
“Hi, Cousin, how are you? It’s great to see you!” she greeted me with overflowing enthusiasm. Yet, I could sense the insincerity in her tone as she continued, “I was planning to drop by and, I bumped into your fiancé in the parking lot. So, we walked here together. I hope you don’t mind.”
The way she pressed on “don’t mind” was a deliberate dig.
Brian frowned slightly, seemingly annoyed by the way she addressed him as my fiancé.
I forced a smile. “Of course not.”
Why would I mind? I’d be leaving soon anyway. Brian didn’t love me, so whether I cared or not didn’t make a difference.
I didn’t want to waste my time chatting with them, so I headed upstairs to my room. I left the door open as I began packing.