Chapter 1: The Wedding Twist

Natalie Porter pretended to be broke by my side for three years.

She played the part perfectly—always acting like she was counting pennies, barely making rent, just like me. We’d order greasy takeout on Friday nights, split the bill, and laugh about our bad luck with jobs. The apartment always smelled faintly of old fries and burnt coffee, and the radiator clanked like it was protesting our existence. Sometimes we’d squeeze onto the old couch and watch reruns, our feet tangled in a faded thrift-store blanket, and I honestly believed we were partners in the struggle.

When she found out my mom urgently needed money for surgery, she even went so far as to fake losing her job, forcing me to support her.

She told me she got fired from her last gig at the mall—came home with tears in her eyes, clutching a crumpled pink slip. I didn’t even think to question it. With my mom’s diagnosis hanging over me, my mind was spinning. Natalie let me shoulder everything, let me believe I was the only thing holding us both together.

In the end, I just couldn’t keep up the act any longer.

Late one night, with only the hum of the fridge for company in our shoebox apartment, I realized I was spent—emotionally, financially, all of it. I just stared at the cracked ceiling and knew something had to break.

I broke up with her and married the wealthy man who’d been pursuing me.

It was sudden, but it felt like survival. Marcus Hill had been after me for months, and in that moment, choosing him felt like the only way out of the mess.

Now, three years later, the city looked different, but the ache in my chest was the same. Today, I attended a client’s wedding, only to discover that the groom was Natalie Porter.

I’d just stepped inside the Willow Creek Country Club, taking in the glittering string lights and the scent of peonies everywhere, when I saw her at the altar.

I overheard the groomsmen teasing her—

"Remember how Miss Porter insisted on playing the pure love game, only to get dumped in the end?"

Their laughter was sharp, the kind that slices through the music and across the dance floor. I kept my head down, wishing I could melt into my chair.

"What a shame. Pretending to be jobless was your final test. If she could’ve stuck it out just a bit longer, she’d be the bride today."

Another groomsman elbowed his buddy, grinning like this was the highlight of the night.

"Bet she’d lose her mind if she knew she dumped the Porter Group’s golden ticket. What a move."

The words stung, even though I’d heard worse. I forced myself to take a slow breath, smoothing the front of my dress.

But actually, I’d known all along.

I’d always known—about her family, the money, all of it. I just never let on. I remembered the first time I saw her last name on a donor plaque at the hospital, the letters gleaming like a punchline.