After years together, we finally hit our wedding day.

At the altar, Damien Huxley had the ring halfway on my finger when his old college crush from Francia called.

The guy everyone swore loved me more than his own life? His eyes went red. Then he bolted for the airport.

My hand froze midair. Then a stream of comments popped up in front of me—

[Oh my god, guys! I just saw his old crush's profile pic—she looks exactly like the new cadaver donor at our school!]

[No way. Don't freak me out. Keep that creepy comment away from me!]

[Either they're twins, or you need glasses. Chill.]

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

I knew about Damien's old crush—our college classmate.

But I remembered one thing clearly.

She was an only child...

Enya Answorth was a year younger than me and Damien, but we'd been in the same class.

Her family had money, and as an only child, she grew up spoiled and somewhat arrogant.

Her mom only had her. Same as mine.

We lived in the same dorm building for years. No way I got this wrong.

The comments kept pouring in.

That med student said he was heading to the body freezer to check.

[The profile pic flashed too fast. I need to see her in person.]

[I've got chills... If this is real, then the girl Damien ditched Sadie for is...]

[Ahhh! Jesus, protect me!]

I stood alone at the center of the stage. Camera flashes burned my eyes.

My parents looked wrecked. Whispers and pitying looks scraped over me, sharp and constant.

I clenched my jaw and ran. The cab driver kept giving me weird looks as I rushed straight to the airport.

Through the arrivals hall glass, I saw Damien had Enya pulled tight against him.

She looked soft, slim—normal. Her face was buried in his chest, mostly hidden.

Her small hand slid under his coat, restless.

At first, I didn't even know what I felt. Somehow, I'd followed him here.

I watched him carry her suitcase like it mattered, sling an arm around her, and let her take the passenger seat that used to be mine.

I watched him take her to a restaurant he was always "too busy" for with me. He cut her steak, fed her, looked more satisfied than if he'd eaten it himself.

I watched him book her a room, swipe the card, and walk in with her like they were some perfect couple.

My heart went cold.

Damien didn't care how I faced our wedding guests. Didn't care if I was humiliated. The second Enya showed up, she was all he saw.

But was she really Enya?

In a daze, I went home and lay there until two in the morning. I'd just started to drift off when the bedroom door clicked.

Through half-closed eyes, I saw Damien.

He stiffened. Then, when I didn't move, he relaxed.

He lay down. Enya's jasmine scent drifted over, mixed with that faint, dirty smell.

His phone buzzed.

Through my lashes, I glanced at his phone.

More messages from Enya:

[Damien, are you asleep?]

[You have to come to my studio tomorrow at noon. I've got a big surprise for you.]

[I'm going to shower too. Too bad you left in such a rush—you missed out, hehe.]

Don't let the CEO title fool you. Back in college, Damien was broke, living on cheap meals. Someone like Enya? She wouldn't have glanced his way.

He chased her for three years, no pride left. Only when he gave up did he notice the one who'd stayed—me.

The night Enya left the country, he got wasted just to keep himself from chasing her.

My chest ached. I kept wiping my tears, over and over.

What did he say back then?

"Sadie, Enya's a thorn in my heart. Pulling it out hurts, but once it's gone, it's gone. You're my future."

For the next five years, he kept that promise.

His world was just work and me.

Everyone said Damien was a workaholic, but no deal—no matter how big—came before Sadie Somerset.

But now?

One call. One soft, flirty plea.

No hesitation—he shoved that thorn right back into his own heart.

***

The next day, Damien didn't wake up until almost noon. Yeah—he clearly hadn't held back with Enya.

When he saw me slumped on the couch, out of it, guilt flickered in his eyes. He rushed over and pulled me in.

"Honey, I'm really sorry. Enya came back to recover. Her heart's not in great shape. We were classmates. She asked for help—I couldn't just ignore her, right?"

His chin rested on my head, his voice careful.

And just like that, the hickey on his collarbone was right there.

At the same time, the comments in front of me went wild again—

[Guys! I checked this time—the cadaver donor looks exactly like Enya!]

[Too bad the school keeps donor identities locked down. We can't get a name!]

[And what Damien just said is terrifying—the donor died after a failed heart transplant!]

The rest was all guesses. Reading it felt like stumbling through cold fog. I couldn't even focus on Damien.

That set him off. He grabbed my face and made me look at him.

"Honey, you're not mad, right? The ceremony didn't finish, but I still married you. Don't worry, I only love you."

For a second, the man I'd loved for years felt... disgusting.

Rotten. Inside and out.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket.

Damien—still waiting for my forgiveness—lost focus instantly.

He checked the time. Whatever patience he had left? Gone.

He let me go and headed back to the bedroom. A while later, he came out in the shirt he used to wear when he chased Enya—the one he'd shoved to the back of the closet after she left. Now it was freshly ironed.

Didn't even match his current style. And yet, he looked way too pleased wearing it.

I didn't ask for a hug like I used to. He didn't even notice.

He got dressed, said something came up at the company, and left like he couldn't wait.

I stared at the empty space and let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

Didn't matter if that woman was really Enya or not.

I was done.

They could have each other.

I told my parents my decision. They backed me up, no hesitation.

Luckily, we'd planned to register on Valentine's Day. So yeah—we had the ceremony, but nothing legal yet. Maybe that was fate.

I was done with him.

But I was curious.

When the timing felt right, I took a cab to Enya's studio.

Fourteenth floor. Left turn. Third door. Same place she used to share with classmates before going abroad.

The door was locked. Floor-to-ceiling windows, curtains drawn tight.

Faint candlelight leaked through the gap. In the middle of the day, the room stayed dim.

I shifted slightly, trying to get a clearer view.

Enya lay stretched across the couch, bare skin traced by flickering candlelight.

Her gaze hooked Damien, and just like that, he was gone. The whole room felt thick—sweet, suffocating.

At the same time, the med student from earlier started freaking out in the comments—

[Waaah... guys, this pose—it looks even more like her!]

Soon, faint, broken breaths slipped out of the studio.

Maybe it was the flickering candles, or the way her body moved, but something about the way Enya looked at Damien felt... off.

He didn't notice.

His voice came out rough, uneven, soaked in pleasure. "Babe... never thought I'd get to call you that. Even if I can't give you a title right now, I can give you more than before."

Enya looked completely gone, cheeks flushed, voice soft and syrupy. "...Damien, I didn't know how to cherish someone before. Now I do."

Her arms tightened around his neck. "But... ah... I might not be able to stay with you long, because of my illness—"

Damien cut her off, catching her lips. His voice slipped out between uneven breaths. "Don't say that. I've got money. I'll make sure you're okay."

I pressed back against the hallway wall, trying to outrun the dull ache in my chest with a flood of thoughts.

She didn't smell like a body. She had a shadow. A solid presence. She breathed.

She wanted to get better, to live... or maybe she was after Damien's money?

Nothing made sense.

My temples throbbed. A chill crept over my skin.

I didn't even notice when the studio went dead quiet.

The live comments blew up with warnings:

[Sadie! Enya noticed you!]

[Run, run! Doesn't matter what she is—just get out!]

[Oh shit! Too late! Enya's opening the door! Sadie, turn around!]