Danny's crew trailed him outside, swarming me with their useless advice.

"Paige, what's the big deal? Danny just wants to help Mia with her dreams," one of them said.

"Exactly," another chimed in. "Mia's had it rough. It's just a few wishes. You're being way too petty."

Even Joe, Danny's younger brother—someone I used to favor—decided to pipe up. "Paige, Danny hasn't even married you yet, and you're already pulling this?

"You better watch yourself. If Danny says the word, he'll drop you like that. Honestly, who'd even want a used-up reject like you?"

They shared a round of knowing looks, smirking like they'd just landed the ultimate burn.

Danny, still holding Mia, let out a low, mocking laugh. "You sure about this, Paige? Don't come crying later, begging for forgiveness."

Right then, a sleek Maybach pulled up to the curb. Without a word, I turned and walked straight to it, sliding into the passenger seat.

Danny's face twisted like he'd swallowed something sour. "Paige!" he bellowed. "Get out of that car! We can still talk!"

Hugh Parker, cool as ever in the driver's seat, leaned over to buckle my seatbelt, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"Take me home," I said quietly. "I need to pack my things."

"Sure. Pack everything up properly."

***

Over the years, Danny had showered me with expensive gifts. Handbags, jewelry—you name it. I called a resale boutique to haul it all away. They could only take half, promising to come back for the rest tomorrow.

My temples throbbed as I massaged them, trying to stave off a headache. I ordered takeout, eating while I mindlessly scrolled through social media.

The first thing that popped up? A picture of Danny and Mia. He was cradling her face, staring at her like she was the love of his life.

Next was a video in the group chat, courtesy of one of his buddies. It showed them kissing, all while the peanut gallery cheered and whistled in the background. The wet, sloppy noises made my stomach turn. I exited the group chat without a second thought.

Seconds later, Danny called. His voice was a mix of frustration and desperation. "Paige, it was just a joke! How many times do I have to explain?

"These are my closest friends. Are you really planning to ghost all of us without even talking to me?"

I replied with a quiet, "Yeah."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Joe's voice chimed in from the background. "Chill, Danny. She'll come crawling back in a couple of days, begging to rejoin."

I hung up and let out a dry laugh.

They probably thought they were right. In the past, I might've swallowed my pride and apologized. But not anymore. I was done.

That night, before I went to bed, my eyes laned on the wedding photos scattered across the nightstand and dresser. I couldn't stand the sight of them.

I got up, grabbed a framed picture of Danny and Mia I'd swiped from his study, and swapped it in for the wedding photos.

He should thank me for my thoughtfulness.

***

The next morning, Danny came home, like nothing had happened. His eyes lit up the second he saw me.

"I knew you'd be waiting for me," he said, grinning like he'd won. "I should've come back last night. It's Mia's fault—she was scared of the dark, so I stayed with her. It won't happen again..."

His voice faltered when he noticed the boutique staff hauling out my handbags. His face stiffened, panic flashing for just a moment.

"Why are you selling the stuff I gave you?"

I stayed calm. "They're taking up space. I need room for new things."

Danny's face lit up. He grabbed my hand, practically bouncing. "Got it. I'll buy you new ones!"

I frowned, pulling my hand free. He'd completely missed the point.

The space wasn't for my things.

It was for Mia's.

I was moving out.

Danny claimed he'd been up all night gaming and needed to crash, tugging me toward the bedroom.

I might've believed him—if it weren't for the lipstick stain on his collarbone.

"What's the meaning of this? Are you trying to disgust me on purpose? Where are our wedding photos?" Danny's voice was sharp, furious, his bloodshot eyes locked on the empty wall.

"They're gone."

He froze, his body stiffening for a beat before his hands started to shake. "I'm exhausted. Why do you always have to make everything a scene?

"Fine, I was wrong, okay? I'll apologize. Just... put the pictures back.

"I don't care about her. I was only helping Mia finish her wish list."

For a while, I'd believed that too.

Cooking her cream soup when her stomach hurt.

Spending an entire blackout cuddled up with her.

Taking her to the amusement park I'd always wanted to visit.

Even tagging along to a lingerie store and helping her pick out bras.

All of it was on Mia's thirty-three-item wish list—the one she'd sent me, neat and explicit, before withdrawing it with some lame excuse about "sending it by mistake."

That was when it hit me: there was nothing innocent about any of this.

"The cleaner took care of them," I said, meaning the photos.

Danny's expression cracked.

"You can always take new ones," I added with a faint smile.

His face softened, and his warm hand landed on my shoulder. "Good. We'll take even better ones next time."

He had no clue I meant him and Mia.

The awkward silence shattered with the buzz of my phone.

It was a real estate agent calling to confirm if I was serious about selling. Apparently, pricing the properties at half their market value had caught some attention.

These weren't just any properties—they were the ones Danny had transferred to my name when he proposed. A penthouse in Rivera, a suburban villa, and two four-bedroom apartments right in the heart of the city.

"Yeah, I'm serious," I said. "The contracts are signed. Just find buyers ASAP. I need the money."

Danny's eyes narrowed as he noticed my tone. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist so hard I winced.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"The agent."

"An agent? For what?"

Feigning nonchalance, I shrugged. "Oh, just asking about a listing for someone else."

His shoulders relaxed. "Good. Paige, I'm all yours now. I swear, Mia won't come between us again."

I raised an eyebrow but didn't bother responding.

Before I could call him out, his phone buzzed. A quick conversation later, Danny was out the door, still in his slippers, rushing like his life depended on it.

I waved dismissively and went back to packing.

***

By the time I was almost done packing, Danny called again. "Paige, Mia's depression flared up. I'm scared she'll do something stupid. You know how suicidal she can get."

I let out a dry laugh. "Spare me the speech. I don't care."

Suddenly, Mia's sobbing voice cut in. "Paige, I'm so sorry. I can't control myself anymore. I just... I just want it all to end.

"That way, you and Danny can be together forever."

"Then go ahead and die. No one cares."

I wasn't falling for it. My therapist had already told me Mia's little breakdowns were just part of her act.

On the other end, chaos exploded—Mia's over-the-top wailing, Danny yelling. "Paige, you're heartless! I wish I could rip you open and see if your heart's made of stone!

"Mia's depression is your fault! You've been cruel to her from the start. Are you happy now, driving her to this?"

"Yes," I said flatly.

"You're unreal," he growled before the line went dead, probably because he'd smashed his phone. Typical Danny tantrum. Not my problem.

There were only four days left until the wedding, and I was almost out. Just a few loose ends to tie up before I could leave Danny and his chaos in the rearview mirror.

As I hauled out another suitcase and waited for the movers, Danny barged in.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, and his eyes flicked frantically between the luggage and the nearly empty house.

"Where are you going?" His voice cracked. "Paige, tell me you're not leaving. You're not... right?"