Chapter 1

The church bells were ringing, a cheerful sound that felt like a lie. For the third time, I stood in a white dress, my hands clutching a bouquet of lilies so tightly my knuckles were white. The guests murmured in the pews, their whispers a low hum of pity and confusion. This was supposed to be my wedding day with Ethan Miller. Again.

The first time, he left me at the altar. A text message: "Chloe needs me. Lily's sick again. I'm so sorry."

The second time, we were at the city hall, just minutes from signing the papers. His phone rang. He looked at me, his face pale with apology, and ran out without a word. I knew it was Chloe. It was always Chloe.

Now, the third time. He had sworn it would be different. He had begged, he had cried, he had promised that Chloe Davis and her daughter were in the past. I believed him. I was a fool. An hour past the ceremony's start time, the heavy church doors creaked open.

It wasn't Ethan in his tuxedo. It was Ethan in a wrinkled shirt, his hair a mess, carrying a small, sleeping girl in his arms. Chloe trailed behind him, her eyes red but triumphant.

"Ava," Ethan began, his voice cracking as he walked down the aisle toward me. The guests went silent, their eyes wide. "Ava, I'm sorry. I know this is... I know."

He stopped in front of me, shifting the sleeping child, Lily. "Lily... she's my daughter, Ava. She's mine. Chloe just told me. She's sick, she needs a father, she needs me." He looked at me with those desperate eyes that I had once loved so much. "Please, forgive me. We can still make this work. We can raise her together."

My mind went blank. The flowers fell from my hands, scattering on the cold stone floor. His daughter. All the times he ran to them, all the money he gave them, all the nights I spent alone while he was playing hero to his "childhood friend." It was all a lie. I wasn't his partner, I was an obstacle. An ATM.

I looked from his pleading face to Chloe's smug one. She was the picture of a worried mother, but I could see the victory in her eyes. She had won.

"I gave up the fellowship for you," I whispered, the words tasting like ash. The prestigious international fellowship in architecture, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I had turned it down to build a life with him, to plan this wedding. To stand here and be humiliated for the third and final time. "I gave up everything."

A new strength, cold and sharp, rose inside me. This was not grief. It was clarity. I was done.

"Ava, don't be like this," Chloe said, her voice soft and poisonous. She stepped forward, putting a hand on Ethan's arm. "We didn't want to hurt you. But Lily is sick. The doctor said she was poisoned. We have to think about the child."

I stared at her, then at Ethan. "Poisoned?" The accusation hung in the air, thick and ugly. Ethan's face hardened. He looked at me not with love, but with suspicion.

"The police are on their way, Ava," Ethan said, his voice now devoid of its earlier warmth. "They just want to ask you a few questions. About what Lily might have eaten when she was at our house last week."

Our house. The house I had designed, the home I thought we were building. The memories flooded back-lazy Sunday mornings, drawing plans at the kitchen table, him kissing my neck and telling me I was his whole world. It all felt like a scene from someone else's life. The contrast between that warmth and the icy accusation in his eyes made me feel sick.

I took a deep breath, the smell of the discarded lilies filling my lungs. I looked at the man I thought I would spend my life with, now a stranger accusing me of something monstrous. I looked at the woman who had systematically destroyed my happiness. I looked at the innocent child caught in the middle.

Slowly, deliberately, I reached up and pulled the diamond ring off my finger. The ring he had given me on a beautiful evening, promising forever. It felt heavy, a piece of a lie. I held it out on my open palm.

"Take it, Ethan," I said, my voice steady for the first time. "It's yours. Everything you ever gave me is yours." I dropped the ring. It clattered on the stone floor, a small, final sound in the cavernous church. "I am done."

I turned my back on him, on them, on the wreckage of my life, and walked away. I didn't look back.