Chapter 2

###Chapter 2

Audrey's expression darkened as she grabbed my wrist.

"Hazel is a girl we watched grow up. She lost both of her parents, and then she got sick. It hasn't been easy for a young woman like her."

"Nicolas and her are only going through the motions. You're still going to be his wife, aren't you? What more could you possibly want?"

Nicolas' father also walked in, wearing a stern expression.

"Denise, you should be grateful that you even have the chance to marry into the Jenkins family. On such a joyous occasion, who are you trying to give attitude to?"

I yanked my wrist free from Audrey's grasp, my entire body trembling.

"Then why don't you two go upstairs and see for yourselves who his wife really is?"

At that instant, the two of them froze.

We were supposed to have registered our marriage a month ago.

That day, I waited at City Hall until everyone had gone home. I called Nicolas ninety-nine times before he finally picked up, his voice full of impatience.

"Hazel's dog died. She was crying so hard she almost passed out. Patty was her only family, and now that she's alone, I have to stay with her. What if something happens to her?"

And so, our marriage registration kept getting postponed.

Back then, I had eagerly looked forward to becoming his wife—a married couple recognized by law.

Now, I was actually grateful that we had never gotten that piece of paper.

Audrey's expression darkened again.

"Stop being so sarcastic. If you hadn't shamelessly clung to Nicolas all these years, do you think you'd even be standing here talking to us? Don't be so ungrateful."

Nicolas' father, Ronan, dropped heavily onto the sofa.

"You're turning such a trivial matter into a huge commotion. If outsiders hear about this, what will become of the Jenkins family's reputation?"

Dumbfounded, I looked at the two of them and couldn't help shouting, "And when you replaced me with another bride, did you ever stop to think that I have my dignity too?"

Ronan slammed his palm against the armrest. "Is the Jenkins family's reputation more important, or are you? If you feel so wronged, then leave! There are plenty of women lining up to marry my son. We don't need you!"

The argument grew louder and louder. Nicolas finally came down the spiral staircase, impatiently fastening the buttons of his shirt.

Just before he fastened the last one, I clearly saw several fresh scratch marks across his solid chest.

His mood was clearly spoiled by the interruption, so he shot me an annoyed glance.

"Denise, are you done yet? I already told you—I'm only helping Hazel with her exposure therapy. Why are you making such a scene with my parents?"

His mother immediately pointed a finger at me.

"You really need to deal with this woman. She's already giving us attitude before she's even married into the family. What do you think will happen once she actually gets the marriage certificate? Sooner or later, she'll be walking all over us."

On hearing that, the warmth in Nicolas' eyes grew even colder.

He looked down at me condescendingly, disappointment filling his voice. "It was just a ceremony. How can you be so petty? On a day like this, you had to ruin everyone's mood. The more I think about it, the more I believe replacing you today was the right decision."

His shameless words made me clench my fists.

I stared coldly at him and spat, "You know how long I've been looking forward to this wedding. Every flower, every place setting, every table card—I personally chose and arranged them all. And after everything, all my effort was just to prepare the way for your childhood sweetheart to become the bride?"

He looked as though I had just told him the funniest joke. With his hands in his pockets, he curled his lips into a mocking smile.

"Denise, do you really not know your place? You're Mrs. Jenkins only because I say so. If I don't, then as everyone knows, you're nothing more than a woman who's been desperately chasing after me."

For a moment, the man standing before me seemed frighteningly unfamiliar.

Nicolas had already run out of patience.

"Today, you have two choices. Either admit your mistake and behave yourself, and I'll take you to get our marriage certificate."

"Or pack your things and leave this house yourself. I don't like women who can't tell what matters and what doesn't."

He was certain I would choose the first option.

In every argument we had ever had, regardless of who was right or wrong, I had always been the one to lower my head in the end.

I had spent ten years chasing after him so desperately that even my best friend couldn't stand it anymore. She had cursed me for humiliating myself for a man.

But this time, I said nothing. I simply stared at him for a long moment.

The last shred of hope in my heart, the weight of ten years of love—all of it had been torn to pieces by those two words: "desperate woman."

Inhaling sharply, I said, "Fine. Let's break up, Nicolas."