Chapter 5: Vows, Lies, and Veils

Before I knew it, it was early spring. Rain fell endlessly, grass and birds everywhere, the city alive with spring.

After that day, our families started discussing the wedding. The Rowes worried my parents would want to wait until year’s end, but my folks trusted Nathaniel, so the date was set for May.

At the same time, good news came from City Hall—

Marissa was pregnant.

The mayor had only one son, the golden boy, who was talented in every way. Nathaniel was close to him, both as friends and relatives.

Now, even if Marissa had a son, it wouldn’t threaten the mayor’s heir.

One rainy day, I was painting when my friend Bree rushed in.

She caught my glare and fell silent.

I finished the last stroke, satisfied with the painting—a snow-covered street, a man in uniform on a motorcycle, tall and striking, leading a parade as the people cheered.

It was Jackson Monroe as I first saw him.

No matter what, he helped me at the party. I hate owing favors, so I decided to paint him a picture.

"Miss, this donkey you drew is so majestic! Looks just like a horse!" Bree said, covering her face.

I was silent. "It is a horse."

She forced a laugh, then pointed at the painting. "This gorilla is so lifelike—beating its chest! So cute!"

Me: "..."

She stopped laughing. "Wait, is it—"

I stared at her. "It’s a woman wiping her tears."

She fell silent for a long time, then looked at the man on the motorcycle. "Is that a man or a woman?"

I quickly cut her off. "It’s Jackson Monroe."

"No way!" she insisted. "He has a tear mole, just like Nathaniel!"

My heart skipped a beat. I’d painted so many portraits of Nathaniel that I unconsciously added the mole.

"It’s Nathaniel!" she said, eyes bright.

"It’s not!"

She winked. "It’s only natural to paint your future husband. Why be shy?"

My face burned. "It’s really not him."

She nodded, drawing out her words. "Oh—"

I forced myself to focus. "Why did you rush in earlier?"

She remembered. "Marissa sent for you."

…

In the mayor’s mansion, the air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers as Marissa lounged on a chaise, her face glowing with pregnancy.

The mayor sat beside her, pressing his face to her belly, whispering.

She frowned. "It’s only been a month. How do you know it’s a girl?"

He smiled. "A daughter would be wonderful—just like you."

She frowned deeper, but before she could reply, she spotted me.

"Sis, you’re here."

I nodded. "Hi, Mr. Mayor, Marissa."

He waved off the formalities, then told her, "You sisters must have plenty to talk about. I have meetings."

Once he left, she dismissed everyone else, leaving just the two of us.

She stood and approached, her smile never reaching her eyes. "I hear you’re marrying Nathaniel soon?"

With no one around, I rolled my eyes. "If you don’t want to smile, don’t. It’s ugly."

Her smile froze.

I handed her a string of prayer beads. "Mom went to church for you and the baby."

She took them, surprised, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal another set. "Mom sent these a few days ago."

I didn’t miss a beat. "She got you another set."

She hesitated, then asked, "You don’t resent me for humiliating you at the party?"

"Of course I do. I’m not a saint. But I prayed for the child, not you."

She looked down.

I fiddled with my bracelet, then asked, "What did you do with the landscape painting? Did you auction it?"

"I threw it away," she said bluntly.

I froze.

She looked up, smiling sweetly. "I know you spent months on it, but it was ugly. Why keep it?"

I stared at her.

She seemed frustrated by my lack of reaction. "I hate that look of yours—pretending to be so noble and patient. You hate me, right? You’re jealous of me now, just like I was of you. Why pretend to be so nice? Does it make you feel superior?"

"Are you done?" I cut her off coldly. "If so, shut up. You know how you got your position."

She went pale, swaying. "No way. How could you know…?"

"I have things to do."

I turned to go, her voice biting. "Are you in such a hurry to see Nathaniel?"

I paused, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

Without looking back, I said, "Take care of yourself."

She was silent for a while, then called, "Autumn! Do you really want my child to be born safely?"

I stopped. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes were deep. After a long time, she smiled. "At the party, Nathaniel drank a lot. The mayor’s wife sent a butler to help him rest, but the butler took him to my room."

She paused, then looked at me, her voice soft and mocking. "Want to guess whose child I’m carrying?"

I forced myself to stay calm, stepping back. "Are you insane? No matter how much you hate me, you shouldn’t make up something like this. Do you know what you’re saying? That’s a crime!"

She faltered, her hand trembling.

"Besides, you know Nathaniel wouldn’t do that. Even if you had a past, now you’re the mayor’s daughter-in-law. He’d never cross that line!"

She looked at me, her face unchanged, then sneered, "You trust him that much?"

I shot her a look. "Should I trust you instead?"

She echoed my words, then smiled innocently. "But I remember Nathaniel drunkenly clinging to me that night, saying he couldn’t forget me."

Despite myself, my pupils shrank, my breath catching.

"And I have more than just my word."

She signaled for a box, then pulled out a man’s dark green suit jacket, her fingers tracing the floral pattern on the sleeve before looking at me.

My heart clenched. That was the jacket Nathaniel wore at the party.

…

On the way home, I sat in the car clutching the box, my head spinning. I could still hear her whispering:

"That night, he called me ‘Rissa,’ over and over."

"You know about the tear mole by his eye, but did you know he has a tiny mole on his left waist? It’s beautiful."

…

"Miss, are you okay?" Bree asked, worried.

I shook my head, gripping the box tightly.

Marissa had said, "If you don’t believe me, take this to Nathaniel and ask him yourself."

The rain outside brought me back to reality. The car stopped.

"Miss, it’s Nathaniel!" Bree said.

Through the rain, I saw Nathaniel standing at our gate, holding a canvas.

Our eyes met, and something flickered in his gaze. He raised the canvas, lips moving, but I couldn’t hear through the rain—just saw his gentle smile.

I almost smiled back, but Marissa’s words flashed in my mind. I turned away, avoiding his eyes.

Bree helped me out. A housekeeper hurried over. "Miss, Jackson’s here, waiting in the living room."

I nodded and hurried past Nathaniel, not looking back.

"A.J.?" he called, voice low and cautious.

I paused, silent, but didn’t turn back.

In the living room, Jackson sat wearing red, his eyes downcast, a canvas on the table.

I remembered Nathaniel had a canvas, too.

"Jackson?" I interrupted his thoughts.

He looked up, then stood, pulling out an invitation. "This is my wedding invitation. The ceremony’s on the fifth of next month. If you and Nathaniel are free, please come."

I blurted out, "With the woman who ran out last time?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly in a good mood. "Her name’s Melissa."

I nodded. Normally, I’d press for details, but I had my own mess to deal with.

"Actually, I came for another reason." He picked up the canvas—it was the painting I’d sent him.

He looked at me steadily. "I know you gave me this painting to thank me for helping you, nothing more. But my fiancée, even though she’s pretty understanding, might still get jealous. I’d rather not upset her, so please take it back."

I stared at him, then at the painting. His eyes were sincere.

For a moment, I felt a surge of curiosity—and a bit of envy—for Melissa.

I took the canvas and invitation, placing them on the box, about to speak when he said,

"I heard your wedding with Nathaniel is in May. I could tell you two care for each other. Congratulations."

My heart trembled.

If what Marissa said was true, what would I do? Could this wedding go on…

Just thinking about him and Marissa, about her carrying his child, made my heart ache and tears fall, soaking the invitation.

I’d wanted to confront him, but suddenly I was afraid—afraid he’d confirm it.

I might lose my mind.

Someone came up behind me, arms circling my waist. I pushed him away, turning to see Nathaniel’s shocked face.

He looked at the tear-soaked invitation, his throat moving as he asked, "Jackson’s getting married—why are you crying…"

I stared at him, knuckles white around the box.

Silence hung between us. His profile was still and somber.

"A.J., I came to tell you—your painting has improved a lot." After a long pause, he smiled faintly, changing the subject.

He opened his canvas. "The painting you sent—the 'monkey by the lake'—is so vivid."

I stared at it, my grief overflowing.

I clearly painted a beauty dancing over the lake—how did it become a monkey?

"A.J., I’m sorry, I was just joking. Please don’t cry."

He panicked, reaching to wipe my tears. I stared at his hand, thinking maybe it had touched someone else…

A knife twisted in my heart.

I slapped his hand away.

"Don’t touch me!"

He looked lost, the light in his eyes fading.

I stared at him coldly, each word biting.

"Nathaniel, let’s call off the engagement."

He froze. After a moment, he croaked, "You’re just angry, right? I—"

"I’m not angry." I cut him off. "I don’t want to marry you. I’ll tell my dad."

He grew anxious. "I’m sorry! I was really just joking about the monkey. Your figure is nothing like a monkey."

My face darkened.

Every word stabbed at me, echoing in my mind.

Such a pretty face, such a venomous mouth.

Not only am I the backup, but he calls me fat?

What, should a spare tire be square?

Anger blinded me. I turned Super Saiyan and—

Smashed the box over his head.