Chapter 1Fading Years, Drifting Apart

Right in the middle of our wedding preparations, my fiancé had to leave for a last-minute business trip. That night, we were on a FaceTime call.

We were just going over the catering progress when the doorbell to his hotel room chimed.

The door opened. A woman strolled into the frame, holding a bottle of Cabernet and two wine glasses. Without missing a beat, she playfully hooked her arm around his neck.

"Finally managed to catch you. Drink with me."

James was forced to bend awkwardly under her grip. He looked at the screen with a helpless, apologetic smile.

"Irene, let me introduce you. This is Sloane. We sat next to each other for three years in high school."

The woman did not let go. She just leaned in closer, peering at me through the screen.

"Oh wow. Hey there, future wifey."

I offered a polite, totally detached smile.

"Hello."

"Please take your arm off him."

Sloane’s smile froze for a split second before morphing into exaggerated shock.

"Whoa, James! The one you bagged this time is pretty fierce, huh?"

James hurriedly ducked out from under her arm, stepping toward the phone to explain.

"Irene, do not misunderstand. Sloane and I are practically frat brothers. This is just how she is."

"Yeah exactly!" She laughed, totally unbothered. "I practically raised this guy. I am basically his wingman. A bro does not have inappropriate thoughts about her own buddy. Am I right?"

She grinned shamelessly. James let out a helpless chuckle and kept defending her.

"It is just a huge coincidence. Sloane happens to be one of the project managers for the company I am partnering with this week."

I knew this contract was massive for James’s firm.

So, despite the bitter taste pooling in the back of my throat, I sat completely still and kept my mouth shut.

Sloane casually pulled out a corkscrew, twisting it into the wine bottle as she completely changed the subject.

"Oh, by the way, James. You have been a ghost in our fitness group chat lately. It has been forever since you dropped an abs pic for our approval."

I knew about that group chat.

James had told me it was strictly a guys-only chat where his buddies posted their post-workout progress.

Turns out, she was in it too.

"Planning a wedding takes up all my free time," James replied. "I barely have time to hit the gym."

"Pfft. Who told you to get married so young anyway?"

James looked through the screen at me, a flicker of genuine tenderness in his eyes.

"Irene has been by my side for three years. It is time I gave her a real home."

The female voice entirely ruined the moment.

"Wow, you say that like I was not by your side for three years! If I knew you were handing out rings, I would have shamelessly demanded you give me a home right after graduation!"

James just laughed and shook his head.

"Stop messing around."

A cold scoff escaped my lips. The sickening discomfort in my chest was growing impossible to ignore.

On the screen, Sloane could not pop the cork. She casually handed the bottle to James.

He took it naturally, popping the cork with practiced ease. Sloane beamed at him.

"Not bad, your workouts are paying off. Hey, check out my progress. Are my lines getting better?"

She took a few steps back, posing in her low-cut silk slip dress, looking at him with absolute expectation.

James smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, looking good."

"Do not just look, feel it. I am telling you, I gained a lot of muscle lately, especially in my thighs."

She actually reached out, grabbing James’s hand and trying to pull it toward her leg.

"Come on, do not be shy. I am the one letting you cop a feel, not the other way around..."

My eyes turned glacial, but I maintained a terrifyingly polite tone.

"Sloane, was it?"

"Why do you not head back to your room? You can save the drinking for another time. We are busy tonight, so this is really inconvenient."

Maybe my tone was a little too composed.

Sloane dropped his hand, but she made zero effort to leave. Instead, she looked at me with a mocking smirk.

"Future wifey, we are just friends joking around. Are you seriously kicking me out?"

James instantly jumped in to back her up.

"Yeah, Irene. I basically view Sloane as another guy. It really is not what you think."

I looked at the very obvious curves pressing against Sloane’s thin silk slip, and I actually let out a laugh.

"What kind of man walks into another person's hotel room late at night wearing a low-cut silk negligee?"

"Oh, wait. I get it. You are a cross-dressing gay man, right?"

I looked at James with absolute, feigned seriousness.

"Well, you cannot do that either, James. You are in danger too."

The air in the room instantly froze.

Watching the smiles get wiped clean off both their faces, the corners of my mouth curled up higher.

"Oh, come on. Just a joke. Sloane, you are a guy, right? Surely a tough bro like you would not hold a grudge against a woman over a little joke?"

I blinked innocently at Sloane, whose face was turning a violent shade of red.

But it was James who spoke first.

"Irene. That joke crossed a line."

I feigned total shock.

"How could it? I was just playing along with your narrative. Are guys really this sensitive?"

Seeing James’s face darken, Sloane took a step forward, completely dropping the act.

"Giving me an attitude the very first time we meet. Are you trying to put me in my place?"

I batted my eyelashes, keeping my voice sweet.

"No, not at all. Why do you jump to conclusions so easily? I was just joking. Was it not funny?"

The second the words left my mouth, Sloane's eyes filled with tears.

"Fine. Fine, I am leaving. James, do not make things hard on yourself just because of me."

She turned and marched out of the room.

The moment the door slammed shut, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the screen.

James rubbed his temples and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"She is literally just a friend. Why did you have to overreact like that?"

"So what you are saying is, I should just sit here quietly and become a prop in your little roleplay?"

"Irene! Can you please stop speaking to me so aggressively all the time!"

Always.

I laughed softly.

Silence stretched across the connection. His jaw was clenched tight, refusing to say another word.

The doorbell rang again.

It was the late-night takeout I had ordered for him.

He brought the food back to the desk. Just like he always did, he softened his tone first.

"Look. We are getting married. Stop overthinking things, okay?"

"I am going to go take a shower. You take a minute to cool off. I will call you right back."

The call ended. I sat on my couch, organizing my thoughts, figuring out exactly how to calmly communicate my boundaries when he called back.

But midnight came and went. No call.

James never broke a promise.

When my calls and texts went completely unanswered, a rare spike of genuine panic hit my chest.

I looked at the massive canvas wedding portrait hanging on our living room wall. Sleep was impossible.

A minute later, I grabbed my car keys and headed for the elevator.

I do not know what possessed me. I just knew I had to go see for myself.