Chapter 4Almost Perfect, Never Me

At long last, the gravity of the situation sank in for Theo. He sat beside my hospital bed, cautiously eyeing my cast-bound hand. "The doctor said you'll make a full recovery. Why don't you look at this as a chance to rest? There'll always be other competitions."

I closed my eyes. "Get out."

His expression froze, but for once, he didn't snap at me. After a moment of silence, his tone actually softened. "Yvette, our wedding is in two days. Judging by your condition, if you really can't manage, we can have Octavia take your place."

My eyes flew open, and I almost thought my ears were playing tricks on me.

Theo, however, explained in all seriousness. "In any case, you two look alike. Once she's in the wedding gown with full makeup on, the guests won't be able to tell the difference from a distance."

The rage I'd been bottling up for days overflowed. "Is this the reason you stayed? To tell me this?"

"I just have your best interests in mind." He frowned. "Besides, you're not in good shape right now. I don't want you to push yourself."

I grabbed the vase off the nightstand and hurled it at him without the slightest hesitation. He sidestepped it.

The very next second, I pelted him with everything I could lay my hands on—pillows, my water glass, and the fruit basket. "Get out. Get the hell out of my face, Theo Montague!"

Theo's expression finally darkened. However, when he reached the door, he still turned around. "Give my suggestion some thought. We still have a lifetime ahead of us. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this one wedding?"

The door clicked shut, plunging the hospital room into silence.

How could he possibly think I wouldn't care about this wedding? His research was demanding, so for the last six months, I had handled almost every detail of the wedding on my own.

I had picked out my wedding gown six months in advance. I had gone to seven different florists before settling on white tulips. I had gone over the guest list, seating arrangements, wedding favors, and even the color of the tablecloths innumerable times.

I had done all of that not only so that the most important day of my life would be free of regrets, but also so that on our wedding day, I could hear him call it perfect.

But now, it dawned on me that no matter how well I prepared, I would never hear the word "perfect" from his lips. Not unless I agreed to let Octavia put on my wedding gown and take my place.

Ever since I saw his post, the emotions I'd been bottling up had finally become too much to contain. I curled up on the hospital bed, bawling my eyes out until my whole body trembled.

I cried until my eyes burned when my phone buzzed with a message from Theo. "Have you made up your mind? The wedding photos aren't going to look good with that cast on your arm. Why don't you let Octavia take your place for now? Once you're all better, I'll make it up to you with another ceremony."

I stared at the screen for a few seconds before replying with a single word, "Sure."

In any case, he wasn't the man I was going to tie the knot with. Thus, whoever stood beside him at the altar was none of my business.

It wasn't long before Octavia posted an update. "Can't wait for the day after tomorrow!"

Theo replied underneath it, "It's going to be a perfect day."

I took one look at it and swiped right past.

…

On the day of my wedding, as soon as I arrived at the hotel, I ran straight into Octavia, who was dressed in my wedding gown.

Theo, who was standing beside her, immediately looked grim when he spotted me in a wedding gown as well. "What are you doing here, Yvette? Didn't you agree to let Octavia take your place?"

I shot him a bewildered look. "I did agree to give up the position of your bride to her."

"In that case, why are you here?"

"To get married, of course."

Theo looked at me as if he'd just heard the funniest joke. "There's a limit to everything, Yvette. You don't even have a groom. Who on earth are you getting married to?"

As soon as his words fell, a deep, amused male voice sounded behind me, "Who said she doesn't have a groom?"

Footsteps approached from behind and stopped a short distance behind me. "Please step aside, Professor Montague. I've come for my bride."