Chapter 3

The bridesmaids were dying of envy and wouldn't let it go. "Your husband is too perfect! Handsome, successful, doesn't smoke, affectionate, says sweet things—is there any justice in this world?"

"Exactly! Does he have any flaws? Tell us so we can feel better!"

Vivian laughed as they shook her. She thought for a moment. "Flaws... I guess he makes me drink soup every day. Says it's good for health."

"And he gets up early to make it himself. Never gets tired of it."

Everyone groaned. Another devastating blow.

Every morning. Ryan never made me breakfast once.

Not once in six years.

Later, when I was pregnant and my belly was so big I could barely bend over, he said he'd wake up early to cook. He burned several pots of porridge trying.

No matter how much I taught him, he never got the hang of it. I'd always thought he was just naturally bad at cooking.

Turns out it wasn't about skill. It was about the person.

I stood there, my heart growing colder by the second.

The bridesmaids insisted Vivian was just showing off and demanded she share a real flaw—no more disguised bragging allowed.

Vivian bit her lip, and suddenly her expression turned serious. "There actually is something. Please don't ever mention it in front of him."

"Ryan was married before."

"His ex-wife and son... they died in a car accident a couple years ago. It hit him really hard. Even now, he can't handle talking about it."

In an instant, blood rushed to my head. My knuckles cracked as I clenched my fists.

In his script, he not only killed me off—he erased our son too.

Our son, smart and adorable, who just yesterday climbed on him saying "I love you, Daddy." To make room for his new marriage, he obliterated his own flesh and blood.

He was cold and selfish beyond measure.

If I didn't expose his true face, I'd be failing both myself and our son.

I was about to step forward when my phone rang. It was Zoe.

Everyone looked at me. I walked some distance away before answering.

"Claire, I need you to transfer $100,000 to me right now. It's urgent."

"What's so urgent that you need $100,000?"

"Didn't I tell you? Your father and I are helping organize a wedding. The bride wants me to be her godmother, so I need to give her a big gift. Hurry up and transfer it. People are waiting."

They were calculating against me to the bitter end.

The whole family was hiding this from me, finding Ryan a new wife—and now they wanted to use my money to curry favor with her?

I bit back my anger and shot back, "Mom, is she going to take care of you in your old age?"

Zoe's voice turned cold. "What are you talking about! I'm hosting a wedding here. Why are you bringing up old age?"

"You want to be her godmother, that's your business. Why are you asking me for money?"

There was silence on the other end.

A few seconds later, Zoe exploded, her words dripping with venom:

"Listen to yourself! You usually act so understanding, but the moment money comes up, your true colors show! Let me tell you—this is my son's money, and I can spend it however I want!"

There's a limit to bullying. I didn't back down:

"Don't forget, I work too. My salary isn't lower than your son's. When did my money become his?"

Zoe snorted coldly. "Fine. You're so capable."

Then she hung up with a sharp click.

I straightened my clothes and turned back, just in time to hear Vivian say, "Zoe said she's giving me five gold bars as a wedding gift."

My heart sank.

Five gold bars—those were exactly what Ryan had given me over the years.

The number matched perfectly.

The bridesmaids were still laughing and chatting. My heart turned to ice.

Laugh now. The harder you laugh now, the harder you'll cry later.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Ryan appeared, surrounded by several people.

Music started playing in the banquet hall. Under everyone's gaze, Vivian slowly walked toward the stage.

Ryan stood there, back straight, a smile on his lips as he waited for his second bride.

When Vivian was halfway there, I stepped onto the center of the stage first, raising the microphone with an icy voice.

"Ryan, how could you not tell me about something as important as your wedding?"

The banquet hall instantly fell silent. The lively atmosphere seemed to freeze as if someone had hit pause.

After a brief, dead silence, voices erupted like a tidal wave.

"What's going on?"

"Who's that woman on stage?"

"Didn't they say Ryan's ex-wife was dead..."