Chapter 3

The next morning, I was awakened by a delicious aroma.

Last night, I used the excuse of being unwell to sleep in the guest bedroom.

Oliver had tried to cling to me, bringing his work files to keep me company, but I had shut him out.

Yet when I woke up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water, I heard laughter coming from the master bedroom.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Oliver asked, busy frying eggs in the kitchen as he glanced at me.

I snapped out of my daze and forced a smile. "You managed to wake up on your own."

In the past, he always insisted I wake him up. I figured this breakfast had a very special destination.

Just as I thought this, Oliver placed a plate in front of me.

"Try it. Is it good?"

I blinked in confusion. "For me?"

Oliver grinned. "Of course. Don't be mad about the hot cocoa last night, baby."

My heart flooded with a sudden wave of bitterness.

I couldn't help but feel my eyes grow hot.

Oliver hugged me from behind. "I have to run. Lunch together today?"

I nodded, watching him leave. But my smile froze when I saw an insulated lunch bag sitting near the entrance.

I rushed into the kitchen. Sure enough, the trash can was filled with food scraps meant for three portions.

I stood there for a long time, then sat back down and finished my breakfast in silence.

Returning to the living room, I noticed a bag on the coffee table.

It contained the wedding invitations. He must have forgotten them on his way to print them.

But as I flipped one open, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

The names were already written in elegant cursive: Groom Oliver, Bride Vivian!

The warmth from earlier felt like a cruel joke.

We had agreed to handwrite the very first copy together as a keepsake.

It should have been done long ago, but Oliver kept delaying it, claiming he was too busy.

It turned out he was just waiting for Vivian...

Why was I still playing the fool of a bride?

I drove straight to the hotel banquet hall.

My dad was discussing something with the staff.

Seeing me, his face hardened. "This banquet hall is too small. It makes me look cheap giving away my daughter."

I didn't say a word.

My dad looked displeased. "Fine, we’ll just add a few more dishes. After all, Oliver is..."

I interrupted him quietly, telling him about Oliver's decision to change the venue.

My dad stared at me in stunned silence for a few seconds before erupting in fury, marching toward the exit.

"Who does he think he is?! I’m going to have a serious word with his parents right now..."

I hurriedly called my mom to stop him.

The venue coordinator was also flabbergasted when I told her. "Miss Stella, all the materials have been prepared. You want to change it now?"

I remained silent for a long moment, making my final decision.

"We're not changing it. We're canceling it."