Chapter 2My Fiancé Left Me Alone When His First Love Slit Her Wrists

I peeked through the crack of the double doors, scanning the ballroom.

The ceremony was supposed to start in ten minutes, and the guests were already seated. I looked from left to right, front to back, but there wasn't a single eligible bachelor in sight.

Even my best guy friend wasn't picking up his phone. Panic started to creep in. I needed to salvage my dignity, and I needed to do it fast.

Just as I was about to lose hope, I saw my father walking toward the VIP section, laughing heartily as he guided a tall, striking man.

"Gideon, my friend! You honor me by coming straight from the airport..."

My father was beaming, introducing the handsome man to everyone nearby.

Gideon Pierce.

He was impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his sharp features softened by a subtle, enigmatic smile.

In that instant, my problem solved itself.

He was someone we knew, someone respectable, and undeniably gorgeous. Who could be more perfect than my father's close friend?

I rushed back to my dressing table, grabbed my phone, and frantically scrolled through my contacts.

When I finally found Gideon's name, I hesitated. It was his private number, and the last time I had called it was when I was studying abroad.

Gideon and my father were old chess rivals. Years ago, they had fought their way to the finals of a major amateur tournament. My father had lost, but the defeat had sparked a deep friendship.

At the time, Gideon was only nineteen, becoming a close confidant to my forty-three-year-old father. Even though Gideon was only eight years older than me, my father had always insisted I call him "Uncle Gideon."

At thirty-four, Gideon had everything: wealth, looks, a brilliant career, and status. The only thing he lacked was a wife.

Sometimes, my father would browse through social media, hoping to find a suitable match for his dear younger friend.

As it turned out, fate was finally playing along.

I dialed the number, keeping my eyes glued to the crack in the door.

Across the room, Gideon felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at the screen.

Please tell me he didn't delete my number, I prayed.

To my relief, he swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Uncle Gideon," I whispered urgently. "Can you come to the bridal suite in the back? Right now?"

"Is there an emergency?" he asked, his deep voice instantly grounded and calm.

"Yes. A very big one."

"I'll be right there."

He hung up. I watched through the gap as Gideon stood, politely excused himself without alerting my father, and walked toward the hallway.

Before he could even knock, I pulled the door open and yanked him inside. I had already sent Tess out. If I was going to be rejected, I wanted to keep whatever dignity I had left.

"Uncle Gideon, I need a massive favor."

"Tell me."

I pointed to George's spare tuxedo hanging on the rack, using the gentlest, most persuasive tone I could muster.

"If you aren't in a rush to leave today, would you mind getting engaged to me?"

His brow arched, his sharp mind putting the pieces together instantly.

"Did he run, or did you change your mind?"

Having thirty-four years of life experience meant he wasn't easily fooled.

Looking at him, I was suddenly reminded of my teenage years. I had tried to play a prank on him with some friends, only for him to completely turn the tables on us. When my friends blamed me and walked away, I had angrily confronted him.

He had simply looked at me and said, “A partnership requires trust, Audrey. If suspicion outweighs belief, the bond crumbles.”

So, I decided to be completely honest. I told him everything about George and Ann.

"The truth is," I concluded, "he ran, and I don't regret letting him go for a second."

"Are you certain?"

I nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. George can be someone else's headache. I will never look back."

"Even if I have to stay single for the rest of my life," I muttered, "I wouldn't marry him."

A warm, gentle palm pressed lightly against my lips, silencing me. Gideon smiled down at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Alright. I accept."

He glanced at George's spare tuxedo, dismissing it with a critical eye.

"The fabric is cheap, the cut is outdated, and the sleeves are far too short. I can't wear this."

I took a proper look at Gideon. He was indeed much taller and broader than George. Thanks to Ann's drama, my new groom was not only more mature, but he was also a much better fit in every possible way.

Gideon pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant. "Tommy, fetch the spare suit from my car. Bring it to the groom's changing room immediately."

Once the arrangements were made, he patted my shoulder gently.

"See you at the altar, my future fiancée."