Chapter 2The Game Was Rigged

The next morning, I went to the bridal shop alone.

When the sales associate took the main wedding outfit out of its garment bag, she looked surprised.

"Mr. Rayner, this suit looks amazing on you. Will Ms. Kilbourn be coming today?"

I hesitated. "She'll be here."

It was the last time I was willing to believe Charlotte without question.

But even by 10:00 a.m., she still hadn't shown up.

At 10:30, her assistant sent me a message. "Mr. Rayner, Ms. Kilbourn had an emergency. She probably won't make it today."

I called Charlotte.

She finally answered, but I could hear Connor trying to hold back tears in the background.

"George, I'm at the hospital."

I asked with concern, "What happened?"

"I'm fine. Connor had an allergic reaction to the watch he wore last night. His wrist is swollen."

I looked down at the suit I was wearing.

The waist was pulled so tight that I could barely breathe.

"Today was supposed to be the day we tried on our wedding outfits."

Charlotte was quiet for a few seconds before letting out a soft sigh. "George, please don't hold this against him. Tomorrow we'll get our marriage certificate. You'll be standing beside me at the wedding too. Connor is just sick. Can't you let me stay with him for a little while?"

I wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Just then, a sales associate walked over carrying a box. "Mr. Rayner, Ms. Kilbourn just had someone deliver this for you."

Inside the box was a pair of black dress shoes.

The soles were soft, and there were heel cushions inside to keep them from rubbing.

A card beside the shoes read. "Your heels blister easily. Don't wear shoes that are too stiff."

I held the card tightly, my heart aching.

So she still remembered.

When I was 18, the first time I wore dress shoes, my heels had been rubbed raw until they bled.

She asked softly, "Did you get the shoes?"

I simply answered with a quiet "Yeah."

She spoke gently, as if she were comforting me, "Be good. I'll come back tonight, and we'll have dinner together, okay?"

Before I could answer, Connor's voice came from the other end. "Charlotte, is my wrist going to leave a scar?"

Charlotte immediately replied, "No, it won't. Let me take a look."

After I hung up, I looked down at the shoes.

They fit me perfectly.

But the person who gave them to me never came.

Lyra arrived at 3:00 that afternoon.

By then, I had already finished trying on every outfit.

She pushed open the door, and when she saw me, she paused. "You look great."

As she walked closer, she looked down at my feet and immediately frowned. "Your heels got rubbed raw again?"

She crouched down and took a box of bandages out of her purse. "Don't move."

Her movements were gentle, just like they had always been.

After putting the bandages on my heels, she looked up at me. "Does it still hurt?"

I didn't answer.

Lyra stood up and helped support me.

"Come on. Get in the car first. It's cold outside."

It was still raining.

She tilted the umbrella toward me, and soon half of her own shoulder was soaked.

I followed her to the car. Just as I was about to get in, I noticed a brand-new pair of sneakers sitting in the front passenger seat.

The shoebox was white, and even the shoelaces had already been carefully tied.

I stopped walking.

Lyra froze for a second. Then she calmly held the car door and said, "You can sit in the back."

I looked at the sneakers. "Can't those shoes go in the back instead?"

She hesitated. "George, don't do this. Connor has been waiting all afternoon for those."

"So I sit in the back, and the shoes get the front seat?"

She sighed. "George, you're different. You're stronger than he is."

I suddenly wanted to cry.

But in the end, I gently pushed her hand away. "Lyra, I don't want to be the strong one today."

She wasn't as gentle anymore. "Please don't make this harder for me."

I laughed quietly. "Every time, you tell me to be the mature one. So why do you never ask him to grow up?"

Lyra was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Because he really would lose it."

I nodded. "And I wouldn't."

I hugged the garment bag to my chest and turned away.

The rain was pouring down. After only a few steps, my heels were already burning with pain.

I never looked back, and Lyra never came after me.

But it didn't matter anymore.

20 minutes later, Connor posted a photo on social media.

The picture showed the new sneakers placed neatly beside his hospital bed.

The caption read. "Someone brought these to me in the rain. She said she couldn't stop worrying until she knew I was okay."

I stood by the side of the road, holding my suit and accessories. My heels hurt so much they had gone numb.

The sales associate ran out and handed me a paper bag. "Mr. Rayner, you forgot your tie."

I reached out and took it.

But at that moment, I suddenly didn't want to get married anymore.