Cole stood with a champagne glass in one hand and a fork in the other. He tapped it lightly, drawing silence across the long dining table. Conversations halted, laughter quieted, forks froze midway. Every eye turned toward him.

When he had their attention, he set the fork down and reached for Selene’s hand. She smiled as she slipped her fingers into his, rising beside him.

“Tonight marks three years of being married to the most beautiful, graceful, and strong woman I’ve ever known,” Cole began, his voice steady and warm. “And while her parents aren’t here to witness this moment, I know they live on in our hearts. Maybe even here with us in ways we can’t see.”

Selene’s throat tightened, her smile softening.

“Marrying Selene was the best decision I’ve ever made. She’s not just my wife—she’s my partner, my peace, my home. My soulmate.”

He kissed the back of her hand, drawing soft “awws” from around the room.

“I know that sometimes I may mess up, but Selene's always forgiving my shortcomings. But, I mean look at me, I'm the full package. She should be the one begging me to forgive her for my shortcomings,” he teased, and laughter erupted. “I’ll keep it simple.”

Turning to Selene, his gaze unwavering, he finished, “If I had to do it all over again, I’d still choose you. Every single time. I love you, Selene Harrington.”

Her chest swelled. “I love you too, Cole Harrington.”

They kissed, brief but tender, before Cole lifted his glass high. “A toast—to love, life, and everything nice.”

“Cheers!” echoed around the table. Glasses clinked. The room filled again with warmth, chatter, and laughter.

Later, after the cake was cut and music filled the hall, Selene let herself be pulled into a spin on the dance floor with Yeshua, laughing at his playful commentary. But mid-spin, a tap landed on her shoulder.

Damien.

“Can I have this dance?” His tone was clipped, almost urgent.

“Maybe after this one,” Selene replied lightly.

Damien didn’t move. His stare at Yeshua was so sharp that the poor man fumbled. “Uh—we’re done,” Yeshua muttered, retreating quickly.

“Hey!” Selene called after him, annoyed.

She turned to Damien, frowning. “That was rude.”

He didn’t reply. Damien only held out his hand again and pulled her gently into a dance. His voice low: “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she said, puzzled.

“You feel like going to the bathroom, right?”

Selene blinked. “No—”

“Yes. You do.” His voice dropped, firm, urgent. “Go. Now.”

Something in his eyes rooted her in place. A cold prickle climbed her spine.

She glanced around the room. Cole wasn’t there. Neither was Scarlett.

Her heart lurched.

“...You’re right,” she whispered. “Excuse me.”

She walked off quickly, her pace quickening with every step, her mind racing as she headed toward the bathroom.

She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, just that Damien's warning had unsettled her deeply. As she turned a corner, she froze. But she quickly took cover. There they were. Her heart shattered.

Cole and Scarlett. Kissing.

Not a fleeting mistake. Not a drunken slip. A deep, hungry kiss between two people who had done it many times before.

They didn’t even seem to care if anyone saw them. They weren’t hiding. They were comfortable. Casual. Shameless.

Selene’s hand flew to her mouth to stop the sob rising in her throat as tears blurred her vision. The words of his toast, still echoing in her ears, twisted into knives.

This was the man who had just given a speech about loving her for life. And here he was, kissing her best friend—the same woman who had cheered the loudest in the room when Cole praised her.

The note had been right.

And maybe everyone already knew—everyone but her. Her chest tightened as the tears flowed. She felt foolish for smiling earlier, for believing in the lie that everything was fine.

Cole and Scarlett finally pulled away from each other, still holding each other close.

Scarlett sighed against his lips. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Cole murmured, brushing her hair back.

“I hate sneaking around,” Scarlett pouted.

“Thursday,” Cole whispered. “I’ll see you then. I'll make it up to you.”

Selene’s stomach twisted. Thursday. That was when Cole went out to play golf with Robin and the guys. He always left early. Always came back late.

So Robin knew?

Embarrassment and humiliation flooded through her. Selene staggered back a step, stunned. Her chest tightened. She felt sick.

“Why can't you just divorce her already?” Scarlett whined.

Cole kissed her forehead before replying, “I told you, I need her. Her family is far wealthier than mine. I need her money. After I've gotten what I want, then you and I can be together.”

Selene's eyes widened. The laughter she shared earlier. The smiles. She had been celebrating a lie. Cole just wanted her money.

She quickly snapped out of her daze when she heard them laugh. They had said something—she didn’t catch what—but she wasn’t going to miss anything else.

Scarlett smirked. “Oh, and thanks for the irises. Even though they went to Selene.”

Cole chuckled. “You think she suspects?”

“Who? Selene?” Scarlett burst into cruel laughter. “Don’t make me laugh. Selene’s literally the dumbest person I know. Sure, she’s smart in business, but when it comes to relationships? Clueless.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Cole chuckled. “Thank God she didn't notice my voice during the phone call. That would have been harder to explain.”

“Honestly. I quickly blurted out Yeshua.” Scarlett said.

Their laughter sliced through Selene like glass.

She stumbled back, silent tears pouring. Her chest was too tight to breathe. Everything tonight—the speech, the toast, the kiss—was a performance. A cruel, elaborate joke.

That was it. Selene couldn’t take it anymore. She turned and began to walk away, her legs stiff and her chest ached. Her heart didn’t feel broken anymore, it felt numb.

She reached the door to the dining hall… but couldn’t bring herself to push it open.

She just stood there. Staring.

A handkerchief appeared in front of her face. She was startled, but turned to see who it was. Damien.

“Wipe your tears,” he said calmly. “You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this.”

Her eyes dropped to the black handkerchief he had outstretched toward her. Slowly, she reached out, took it, and wiped her face.

“You sent me the letter,” she said after a moment, turning to look at him.

“Maybe.” His voice was unreadable.

“Why?”

“Because you needed to see the truth.” His eyes held hers.

“How long have you known?” she asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

“Who else knows?” she pressed, her voice trembling.

“That doesn’t matter either.”

“It matters to me,” Selene shot back, her breath shaky and her eyes still red.

“The question is… what will you do now, Selene?”

Selene stared at him. “Why did you help me?” she asked softly.

“Because, Selene… you still haven’t asked why Cole kept the key to your wedding house.”

Before she could fathom a thought, Damien turned, opened the dining hall doors, and stepped inside, leaving her trembling in the hallway—with the taste of betrayal burning on her tongue.