She made a whole show of leaving, looking wronged.

Caleb grabbed her wrist. "Holly, we've known each other for over twenty years. How are we supposed to just cut ties?"

She spun back, pointing at me, voice sharp with resentment. "Then what do you want me to do? Your bride treats me like I'm trying to steal her place. If I don't leave, what am I supposed to do? This way, she can finally get married in peace, right?"

Every word hit like an accusation.

Like I was the problem. The one making a scene. The one pushing her out.

I didn't have it in me to argue. Didn't want to watch their act anymore.

I walked out without looking back.

Caleb came after me.

Outside the hotel, he caught up, already impatient.

"If you're still upset, fine. We'll postpone the wedding. When you calm down, we'll do it again."

I let out a sharp laugh. "Do it again? Next time is she putting your bed pics on the big screen?"

"Mira!" His face went red. "Take one more step, and you deal with the consequences."

I stopped, looked at him, confused.

He caught that—and leaned in.

"Your dad just asked me for money. I already lined up a job for your brother. You walk away now? No money. Job's gone."

I froze.

I had no idea when my family went to him—or that he'd been doing all this behind my back.

"What did you just say?"

He thought I was playing dumb.

"Stop acting." He stepped closer. "Come back with me, and we forget this ever happened. Walk away, and think about what happens to your family."

I stared at him. Familiar—yet not at all.

After a long beat, I laughed, eyes stinging.

"You disgust me."

I didn't look at him again. I got in the car and drove off, no hesitation, leaving that humiliation behind.

At a red light, my phone buzzed twice.

One message—from Caleb.

[Mira, all these years, the only person I've loved is you. The only woman who'll ever be my wife is you.]

A dull ache hit my chest, knocking the air out of me.

Caleb loved me.

And he also thought he was the best I'd ever get.

That's why he was so sure I wouldn't leave.

Why he stayed too close to Holly—no boundaries.

Why he brushed off every complaint.

Why I was the "immature" one every time I got hurt.

Why, even today, he let her humiliate me in public.

He thought as long as he had money and power, as long as he could help my family, I should be grateful—just accept everything.

If this marriage went through, I could already see the ending.

Endless compromise.

Endless resentment.

Endless favoritism.

And in the end—ruin.

The other notification was an email from my mentor, Pierre Creighton.

He was inviting me—again—to study abroad. Said with my eye for fashion, I shouldn't throw away my shot to grow.

The email sat there in my inbox, like the one bright spot in all this mess.

***

I drove back to my small rented apartment.

Not big, but clean, quiet—mine.

I turned off my phone, peeled off the heavy wedding dress, and washed the makeup off my face.

Then I collapsed onto the bed and passed out.

I don't know how long I slept. Violent pounding on the door yanked me awake.

"Mira! Open up! Now!"

I rubbed my throbbing forehead and dragged myself to the door.

Outside—my dad, hooked on gambling, and my younger brother, Brandon.

The second my dad walked in, he lit a cigarette like he owned the place, smoke drifting everywhere.

The small living room filled up fast.

Brandon dropped onto my couch, slouched like he didn't care.

My dad took a drag and went off. "What was that today? A perfectly good wedding, and you just canceled it? You trying to kill me?

"Your mom died too early—no one taught you. A daughter obeys her father, then her husband.

"The Gormans have everything. They didn't even look down on us, and you still humiliated them."

Brandon chimed in, lazy as ever. "Mira, I'm the only son. I carry the family name. Caleb said once you married him, he'd back me, set me up. You're supposed to support me. Now you wrecked the wedding—what am I supposed to do?"

Their logic wore me out.

"Support you?" I let out a cold laugh. "When you blew tens of thousands and Dad racked up gambling debt, who paid it back, piece by piece? Me.

"So how am I supposed to support you? You're a lost cause—and I'm still expected to fix you?"

They went quiet. Then one look at each other—and they switched tactics.

My dad crushed his cigarette and sighed, putting on a sad act. "Mira, I'm old. My health's bad. Debt collectors show up every day. If I can't pay, they'll beat me to death. You really gonna watch me die?"

Brandon sat up, suddenly tense. "If I can't pay my debts, I'll get blacklisted. My life's over. Our family's done!"

"That's on you," I said, cold. "Dad, I told you to stop gambling. Brandon, I told you to stay out of those bad investments. Did either of you listen?"

My dad slapped his thigh, stubborn as ever. "I don't care! You're this family's daughter. You take care of us! Call Caleb. Apologize. Make up with him. Only if you get back together will he help us pay it off!"

Brandon piled on. "Yeah, call him. Hurry up. You're just a woman—how much can you even make? Only Caleb can save us!"

When I stayed quiet, my dad sighed again. "How about this? Call Caleb. Have him come get you. Gives you a way out."

Brandon nodded fast. "Yeah, have him pick you up. Saves your pride too."

Like what Caleb did didn't matter at all.

Right then, whatever I had left for them—gone.

I nodded. "Fine. I'll call."

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in five years.

It rang a few times.

I took a breath. My voice came out calm. Steady.

"Come get me tomorrow."

***

After I hung up, Dad and Brandon both let out long sighs, smiling like they'd won.

Then they started in on me all over again.

"You can't pull that again. A family like the Gormans? Plenty of girls want in."

"You're lucky Caleb's patient enough to put up with you. Anyone else would've dumped you."

"We're doing this for you. Don't act ungrateful."

I tuned them out, stood up. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

Neither of them moved.

Dad frowned. "Debt collectors are all over our place. We go back, we're getting beaten. We'll stay here tonight."

Brandon stretched out on the couch like he owned it. "Anyway, Caleb's picking you up tomorrow. Once the debts are paid, we'll go home. One night won't kill us."

I didn't argue.

It was my last night here anyway.

I turned and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

Not long after, my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:

[Your flight details have been sent to your phone. I'll be waiting at Parisse Airport.]

My fingers paused for a second.

Then I typed back one word:

[Okay.]

Late that night, I packed a small suitcase—just my ID, bank cards, and a few changes of clothes.

In the safe sat the blue diamond Caleb bought when he made his first real money.

Under the warm light, it sparkled.

Back then, he said he'd buy me diamonds forever. I'd been happy for a long time.

Now it just felt flashy. Empty.

I left it behind.

Outside, Dad and Brandon snored.

I opened the door quietly, shut it just as soft—like slipping out of chains.

The plane lifted, cut through the clouds.

The city shrank beneath me until it blurred out.

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, all I felt was calm.

Relief.

***

More than ten hours later, the plane landed in Parisse, Francia.

I turned on my phone and pulled up the apartment feed.

Clear as day.

Caleb stood in my living room in a sharp suit, face blank.

Holly stood right next to him.

On the screen, Dad and Brandon hovered—pouring tea, waiting on him, practically groveling.

Caleb had never been this polite to my dad before. He took the cup and gave a small nod. "Thanks, Robert."

That one "thanks" had Dad smiling ear to ear, wrinkles deepening.

Caleb didn't waste time. "Yesterday was on me and Holly. I brought her to apologize to Mira—and take her home."

Dad nodded fast. "I told you, couples fight and make up. No one stays mad forever. Don't worry—I already scolded her. She won't pull something like that again."

He rubbed his hands, voice turning eager. "About what I mentioned... when do you think that'll go through? Not rushing—just... Brandon and I need to get home—"

Caleb cut him off, impatient. "Let me take Mira back first."

Dad let out an awkward laugh, turned to Brandon.

"What are you waiting for? Go get your sister."

Brandon nodded and rushed to my room, pushing the door open.

A few seconds later, he came running back, face pale, panic in his voice.

"Dad, this is bad! Mira—she's not in her room. She's gone!"