Chapter 2: Betrayal Before ‘I Do’

I’d heard from Nathaniel that Mallory had pushed him out of the way and taken the hit herself. That kind of debt hangs over you. But this wish was just absurd. I figured even Nathaniel would think it was ridiculous.

My expression hardened. I shook my head, about to refuse: “Mallory, I’m afraid this wish just isn’t…”

“Alright, I promise you.”

But at the same time, I heard Nathaniel’s voice in my ear. It was like a thunderclap—deafening, blinding.

The room seemed to tilt for a moment, the air sucked out. As Mallory’s lips curled into a smile, my eyes widened in disbelief. The dread I’d tried to suppress now surged through me, all at once.

“Nathaniel, do you even hear yourself?”

Nathaniel met my gaze. His voice was no longer tense. If anything, he sounded calm. Resigned.

“Lauren, I owe her this. I have to help her. I have to grant her this wish. It’s just a child, Lauren. Think of it as repaying her for saving my life. It’s not a big deal. Don’t hold it against her.”

His words were so matter-of-fact, so detached, it made my skin crawl. Like he was talking about returning a borrowed lawnmower, not upending our lives.

Panic rose in me. I let out a disbelieving laugh. Then I pressed him:

“What about our wedding next month? What about me? Am I supposed to live with a child with another woman for the rest of my life? What if we have kids in the future? Are they supposed to grow up with your love child? She’s not asking for help—she’s tearing apart the family we’re about to build! She’s the other woman!”

My voice cracked, the words tumbling out faster and louder than I intended. I could feel my hands shaking. The idea of raising a child who would always be a living reminder of this night—it was too much.

Nathaniel’s brows furrowed. He didn’t like how loud I was getting. He pulled me aside and lowered his voice:

“Don’t say things like that. She’s not some homewrecker. Show some respect. Ever since Mallory’s accident, she’s become sensitive and insecure. The wedding will go on as planned. You’re my only wife. Even if there’s a child, nothing will change. None of this affects us. Didn’t you hear her say she’d still give us a wedding gift? She’s a good person—she wouldn’t do anything shady. Be a little more understanding. Does being mean to someone who’s already hurting really make you feel better?”

He spoke in that calm, patronizing tone people use when they think you’re being irrational. The kind of tone that makes your blood boil.

I tried to keep my cool, tried to reason with him:

“Nathaniel, we can help her with money—I mean, we could hire a caretaker for her, for life if we had to. Having a child with you before the wedding is just… wrong. She’s playing you.”

Nathaniel’s face hardened, his voice icy.

“Lauren, stop making a scene. I told you, this is my debt to her—I have to repay it. Don’t tell my parents, either. They’ll just make things harder for Mallory. Just calm down, okay? I don’t want her upset.”

The finality in his voice left no room for argument. He was shutting me out, drawing a line I wasn’t allowed to cross.

...

I looked at the cold, composed man in front of me and felt like a fool. He’d thought of his parents’ feelings, his first love’s feelings, her wish, her mood. The only one he hadn’t considered was me—the woman about to marry him.

It was like I’d become invisible. A supporting character in my own story. My heart thudded in my chest, the urge to scream warring with the need to hold myself together. I wanted to scream, but when I opened my mouth, it came out as a plea:

“Nathaniel, just come home with me. We still have our wedding photos to take tomorrow. Don’t come here again. Don’t see her anymore. I’ll pretend tonight never happened.”

My voice was barely more than a whisper, thick with desperation. I was bargaining, even though I knew it was pointless.

“No. I have to stay here tonight, keep her company. You go home. We can pay extra, reschedule the photos.”

So much for “company.” So much for “rescheduling.”

The words stung, each one a little cut. I slowly pushed his hand off my waist, stepped back, put some distance between us, and stopped. Just as tears threatened to fall, I met Mallory’s eyes across the room—she looked at me with that same smug, victorious look.

Her lips curled in a way that said she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. It was a look that burned.

“Fine, then. I hope you two have a baby soon. Don’t waste any time tonight. I’ll leave you to it.”