Chapter 3

I'd handed her the box without much force, but Blythe suddenly stumbled backward.

She nearly fell down the stairs, as though someone had shoved her hard.

Torin immediately steadied her.

The box hit the floor hard. The two figurines we'd made at a pottery studio for our third anniversary tumbled out.

They shattered.

Instinctively, I reached for the female figurine's head, but Torin shoved me away.

My palm landed on the shards. A sharp piece of ceramic sank into my flesh, and I gasped in pain.

Torin yelled at me.

"If you're mad at me, take it out on me! Why go after her?"

Blythe gently tugged at his sleeve, her eyes red.

"Stop fighting. I was the one who suggested the game. I shouldn't have gotten involved with you two."

"This is all my fault. I'll go."

Crying, she turned to leave.

Torin immediately grabbed her.

"You didn't do anything wrong. She's treating a joke like a crime."

He looked at me with disappointment.

"What happened to the Seren who used to take things in stride?"

The irony wasn't lost on me.

I raised my bloody hand.

"Torin, I'm bleeding this badly. Have you heard me complain?"

He froze. At last, a trace of concern appeared in his eyes.

But he'd barely taken a step when Blythe spoke.

"Torin, I can't stand. My ankle hurts so much. Did I sprain it?"

He stopped immediately.

He looked at me coldly.

"You did this to yourself. None of it would've happened if you hadn't pushed her."

"Stay here and think about what you did. If you can't figure it out, don't bother coming to talk about the wedding next week!"

He picked Blythe up and strode away.

The door slammed shut.

I gritted my teeth, pulled the shard out with tweezers, cleaned the wound, and wrapped it in gauze.

Then I gathered the bloodstained pieces from the floor, bagged them, and threw them in the trash.

The bag hit the bottom with a dull thud.

That night, I saw Blythe's Instagram post.

In the photo, Torin knelt on one knee in front of her, wiping her feet with a damp towel.

[Training the perfect husband for my bestie. Lesson one: Taking care of a lady.]

I stared at the picture, a little dazed.

Torin always said he was my boyfriend, not my nurse, and I shouldn't expect him to do things like that.

Even after my car accident, when I was stuck in bed and couldn't move, he'd never helped wash me.

Now he was doing it for Blythe.

I took a deep breath and left a comment.

[Don't bother training him for me. He's yours.]

A second later, the post disappeared.

Torin's calls and messages poured in.

"What was that comment supposed to mean?"

"All our friends saw it. They're asking Blythe about it now. Do you have any idea how much you've embarrassed her?"

"Apologize publicly. Right now. Or forget about the wedding!"

"Answer me!"

I stared at the barrage of accusations until my eyes ached.

The first thing he'd said had nothing to do with my injury.

All he cared about was that I'd told the truth and embarrassed Blythe.

When I still didn't reply, he sent another message.

"You like shaming people online? Fine. I'll let you see how it feels."

Someone took a screenshot of my comment and shared it in a local Facebook gossip group.

Soon, the screenshot was circulating everywhere.

People called Blythe a homewrecker who'd gone after her friend's man.

Before long, Torin released a statement.

[Blythe Mercer and I are legally married. Everything Seren Vale has been saying is a lie.]

He attached their signed marriage paperwork and a photo of them at the chapel.

They were smiling sweetly, their faces pressed close together.

They looked like happy newlyweds.

Blythe also posted a video of herself lying in a hospital bed.

She was pale, with blood showing through the gauze around her wrist.

"I've always considered Seren my best friend. Even when she kept insisting my husband was her boyfriend, I couldn't bring myself to call her out in public."

"I thought if I let her keep some dignity, she'd stop. But now she won't even leave my marriage alone."

She cried so hard she could barely get the words out, like a real victim.

Public opinion flipped in an instant.

People dug up my name, workplace, and address. My inbox filled with abuse.

Someone even posted the video from outside the Office of Civil Marriages.

"He didn't even want to go inside, and she kept dragging him. She calls that a boyfriend?"

"I went to college with her. She even had to pull his hand over to put her own engagement ring on."

"Women like this don't understand the word no."

Among all the abusive messages, Torin's stood out.

"Do you understand what you did wrong now?"

"Come apologize, and I can still help you book a new wedding date on Monday."

I looked at the reminder on my phone for the next morning's flight.

There was no need.

I wasn't going to wait for that wedding.