When the Stars Fall,The Billionaire's Revenge Bride

Before the wedding, we fell into a cold war without warning.

When I tracked Christopher Gilbert down, I made a scene all on my own. I hit him, cornered him, demanded answers. He stayed calm, held me against his chest, and made me look like the crazy one.

"I'm glad you came," he said, "but today isn't a good time."

Christopher gripped my face with both hands, locking me in place so I couldn't turn around. "Don't look. She just said yes to my proposal."

A tremor ran through my entire body. I stared into his eyes, lost. "What… what do you mean?"

A beat of silence. Then Christopher spoke. "How am I supposed to tell you this? The truth is, I don't love you anymore."

——

He let go of me in an instant.

The pounding music swallowed every other sound. I stood there, searching his face. A faint smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, and when he looked at me, there was still something soft in his eyes. That look made everything he'd just said feel like something I'd imagined.

I wanted to go after him, to demand a real explanation, but my feet wouldn't move. I stumbled through the crowd, bumping into one person after another. When I finally pushed through, I found Christopher in a far corner.

He'd always had a sharp temper, but now every edge was filed down. He lay with his head in a young woman's lap, almost playful, like a different person. The party around them was a haze of smoke and noise, but she stood apart from all of it. A white dress, dark hair spilling down her back. There was no other word for it: pure. She trailed a strand of hair along the side of Christopher's face, teasing him.

"Cut it out," he murmured, voice warm. "Let me sleep a bit."

"That person just now… who was she? Is she your wife?"

Her voice matched her face. Sweet. Gentle.

"No. Nobody important."

Christopher pressed his hand to the back of her head and tilted his chin up to kiss her.

Any normal person would have walked away.

I never had that kind of sense.

"Christopher."

He didn't even glance at me. The girl, though, flinched hard enough to shake. I took two steps forward. Maybe my stare was too sharp. She shot to her feet, face drained of color, and ducked behind the couch.

Christopher's mood soured. He sat up slowly and gave me a single, flat look.

"Every time you scare her, that's one more hour I have to spend calming her down." He jerked his chin toward the bakery across the room. "Go wait for me there."

I didn't push it. I went where he told me to go.

He was right about one thing. The girl wasn't easy to soothe. I stood by the window and watched them for an hour.

The first words out of Christopher's mouth when he walked in were designed to put me in my place. "Picking on a kid isn't a good look. I want this to be the last time you go near her."

I kept my voice even. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Three days."

I'd braced myself for three months. Maybe a year. But the real answer cut deeper than anything I'd prepared for. My nails dug into my palms so hard they nearly broke skin.

Then, somehow, a laugh slipped out. "I thought our cold war came out of nowhere. Turns out it was because of her."

Christopher lit a cigarette and held one out to me.

"I don't even know what started it," he said.

I wasn't the kind of person who could lie to myself the way he did, so I said it for him. "You got bored."

He didn't agree. He didn't deny it, either. Instead, he tossed out another line. "Don't you think she looks like someone?"

I didn't have to think. "The dress she's wearing. That was my style seven years ago."

Christopher smiled. Eyes half-closed, almost lazy, like it was nothing. "That's the one. The dress you used to wear. I gave it to her. You don't mind, do you?" A drag of his cigarette. "You shouldn't mind. It's not like you could fit into it anymore."