Chapter 1The Paris atelier sent over three haute couture pieces. One for my fiancé's collection. Two for his childhood sweetheart's comeback show.
Me?
I got a scrap-lace veil. Made from whatever was left of HER dress.
Ten years loving him. All I got was her leftovers.
He blamed me for keeping that Paris scholarship—said I fucked up her shot at going international. So he spent the next ten years freezing me out.
Later, dying in a hospital bed, he grabbed my hand. Asked if I still hated him.
I closed my eyes. Said nothing.
When I opened them again, I was back ten years. Back at that proposal. Everyone watching.
The emcee's grinning, waving this insane diamond ring. Points at the frozen lake.
"Whoever dives down and brings it back becomes Mrs. Ashford."
Last time? I nearly drowned trying. Just wanted him to LOOK at me.
This time?
I stepped back. Watched that ring sink into the black.
Done picking up HIS trash for her.
This time I'm keeping what's MINE.
---
The ring barely made a ripple when it went under.
The crowd shut up real fast.
The emcee's smile froze. He turned toward the control booth.
Then the backup mic leaked a voice.
"Move her forward a bit. Camera's not getting her face."
Her voice was soft. But that booth? Right behind me.
I heard every word.
Lyra.
Last time, I didn't hear that part.
All I heard was people yelling:
"Jump, Stevie! You've been chasing Hayden for years—what're you scared of NOW?"
That night—water everywhere. In my nose, my mouth. I got the ring, dragged myself out. Three nails just... ripped off.
Hayden threw his coat over Lyra's shoulders. Said SHE was the one who got scared.
Now? I'm just standing here. Not moving.
Hayden finally looked at me.
Black suit. Silver cufflinks.
I gave him those cufflinks last year.
Thought they were boring. Never wore them once.
Tonight he's got them on 'cause Lyra said they looked nice.
"Stevie."
He said my name. His voice just dropped. Got all heavy.
Like, don't you fucking embarrass me right now.
Lyra's pulling her shawl tighter. Eyes red—like, perfectly red.
"Stevie, you scared of water? If you are, it's cool. Hayden won't be mad."
Her fingers land on his arm. Just—resting there.
He didn't move.
Looked at me. Face totally blank.
"It's just a game, Stevie. Don't be dramatic."
Just a game.
A frozen fucking lake. A ring. My life.
All so he could figure out if I'm good enough.
I stepped back. Just a little.
My heel went through the ice—cracked right through it.
The emcee rushed over. Trying to fix this.
"Miss Brennan, hey, the divers are good to go—Mr. Ashford really wanted to make tonight special, you know?"
Another voice came through the mic.
"Keep the divers back. She needs to get it herself. Better that way."
I looked over at the booth.
Camera there. Red light blinking.
Aimed right at me.
So last time, when I was down there drowning?
Someone up here already had their shot ready.
Hayden checked his watch.
"Ten minutes."
Lyra coughed.
Hayden's coat came off. Went straight on her shoulders.
I stood there in the wind off the lake. Shoulders bare. Dress wet at the bottom, sticking to my legs.
Some server started coming over with a blanket.
Hayden stopped him.
"She made her choice."
I heard that line for ten years.
Got sick? My choice.
Took the blame for Lyra? My choice.
Stayed in this dead-ass marriage for ten years? My choice.
This time I didn't go toward the water.
I turned around. Started walking to the hall.
Behind me, Hayden's voice finally got cold.
"Stevie, you walk out right now, don't you dare regret this."
Chapter 2
A server caught up. Handed me this cup—ginger tea.
"Miss Brennan, Mr. Ashford had the kitchen make it special for you."
My hand stopped.
Then another server rushed past me with a silver pot.
Some herbal tea. Cashmere blanket. Thermometer. Hot water bottle.
"Hurry up, Miss Thorne freaked out. Mr. Ashford wants to take care of her himself."
I looked down at my paper cup.
So even his caring had levels.
I put the tea back. Didn't drink it.
Outside, the lake water was black and still.
That ring was down there somewhere. Like me, last time.
But this time? Nobody's making me go get it.
The hall was hot. Like, way too hot.
I just sat down. Hayden's assistant was already walking over.
"Miss Brennan, Mr. Ashford says press is waiting. You need to change, come back in ten for photos."
I had this damp towel on my knees. Legs were stiff, aching all over.
"Where's my dress?"
His eyes flickered. Led me to the dressing room.
Door opened. Two rows of dresses hanging there.
Left side—all Lyra's shit.
Champagne. Ivory. Dusty pink. Even the backup shawls were color-coded.
Right side—one black dress.
Waist taken in. Stitches tucked inside the lining. You couldn't even tell.
The assistant said quiet: "Mr. Ashford said you're not picky. Just wear this for now."
I ran my hand down the waist.
Perfect fit.
So he remembered my size.
Just handed me her leftovers anyway.
Lyra's voice came from the door.
"Stevie, don't be mad at Hayden. I got this altered early. Didn't want you showing up with nothing."
She walked in. White dress like snow. That hem? Hand-stitched lace from some Paris place. Only three in the world this year.
I looked at her.
"So this is what you didn't want?"
Her face went white. Then put on the hurt look.
"I just thought black's more mature. Fits you better."
Hayden came in right after. Eyebrows pulled together.
"Stevie, Lyra's trying to help. Don't be a bitch."
I hung the dress back.
"I'm not wearing it."
Room went dead quiet.
Hayden stepped closer. Eyes on my wrist—all blue from the cold.
He reached out. Barely touched it.
"Just change. You're freezing."
I could smell him. That cedar smell.
Used to love that.
Last time he got this close, I'd just—swallow it all. Every bit of hurt.
Lyra laughed. Real soft.
"Hayden, don't go soft on her yet. She hasn't even signed the thing. Soon as she feels better she'll say we bullied her again."
Hayden's hand stopped.
I froze.
So that's what this was. Little bit of nice so I'd swallow tonight.
Hayden turned his head. Voice dropped.
"Lyra."
Her eyes went down fast.
"Sorry. Shouldn't have said that."
But she already did.
Like she just popped the last bubble I had left.
I pulled my hand back.
"You two do the photos."
Hayden's face went cold.
"Stevie, don't push it."
I grabbed my coat, pulled the door open.
Reporters waiting outside.
Lights everywhere. Cameras all on me.
Dress still wet. Old coat. Face white from the cold.
I walked across the red carpet.
Behind me, Lyra's got her arm around Hayden. Wearing the dress that was supposed to be mine.
Cameras going insane.
Someone whispered: "Wait—who's the star here?"
Hayden didn't say anything.
I didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
Chapter 3
Next morning, Ashford family car showed up outside my parents' place.
Hayden walked in with some papers. Dropped them on the coffee table.
"Sign it."
Mom was holding my medicine. Spoon kept hitting the bowl. Loud. Sharp sound.
"Hayden, Stevie had a 103 fever last night. Can she get a second?"
Hayden's voice stayed flat.
"Mrs. Brennan, we can't wait on this. Brennan-Ashford deal's still waiting. Don't want the internet blowing this up."
I picked up the papers.
[Last night's lake thing was mutually agreed on.
I left early—health reasons.
Mr. Ashford was considerate the whole time.
Miss Thorne was just a guest. Please don't make assumptions.]
I couldn't even laugh.
"So I'm supposed to clear her name too?"
Hayden looked at me.
"She didn't do anything wrong."
"What about me?"
He stopped.
"You didn't go in the lake."
So that's it.
Long as I didn't almost die doing what they wanted, I'm the one who fucked everything up.
Someone knocked at the door.
Lyra walked in. Holding some gift box.
Dressed down today. Eyes red like she hadn't slept.
"Stevie, I came to say sorry."
She opened the box. A scarf.
I knew that.
She wore it last night to block the wind.
Now she's giving me her leftovers like I should say thanks.
"I only wore this once. You're so fair—it'll look way better on you."
Hayden looked at her. His voice went soft.
"You're not feeling good. Why'd you drag yourself all the way here?"
Lyra shook her head.
"Stevie got me wrong. It's eating me up."
My mom's hand stayed on the medicine bowl. Wouldn't let go.
This month's Brennan Corp payroll was still on her desk.
Ashford pulls that three hundred mil, hundreds of people don't get paid.
Last time, I kept my head down just like this.
Every time the Ashfords took another chunk out of me, I'd tell myself—Brennan Corp's gotta stay alive.
Hayden slid the pen over.
"Sign it. I'll get a doctor to check on you."
Same old move. Stab you, then hand you a band-aid.
Like that makes him the good guy.
I grabbed the pen.
Mom's eyes went red. She grabbed my wrist.
I touched her hand.
"It's okay."
I signed my name.
The pen went down. Like I was signing away the next ten years.
Hayden grabbed the paper. His face relaxed a bit.
"Family dinner tonight. Grandma wants to see you."
"As what?"
His jaw locked.
"Stevie, don't make me say shit you don't wanna hear."
I got it.
Not his fiancée.
Not the future Mrs. Ashford.
Just the fall guy for Lyra. The one who shuts people up for the Ashfords.
I nodded.
"Okay."
Hayden looked happy enough. Turned around and walked out.
Lyra stayed put. Leaned down and tossed the scarf in my lap. Dropped her voice.
"Stevie, so what if you're pissed? You'll suck it up. Can Brennan Corp suck up going under?"
I pushed my finger into the scarf.
Looked right at her.
Took her little speech—and that red dot blinking in the corner—and filed both away.
