When I went to return the engagement ring, the designer asked me why. Right in front of her, I tried to slide the ring onto my ring finger. But the band got stuck at my second knuckle, refusing to go any further. "See? It's not my size." The designer's face turned pale. She immediately offered to resize it. I shook my head, my voice incredibly calm. "You can resize the ring, but you can't change the shoe size. And you definitely can't change the wedding dress." My wedding with Ethan Carter was just around the corner. But except for the bride's name on the invitations, nothing about it belonged to me. Every time I asked Ethan to go try on wedding dresses, he would stare at his laptop screen without even looking up. "I'm busy. I know your measurements anyway. I already sent them over to the designer. Just relax and get ready to be a beautiful bride." But three days before the wedding, what I received was a ring that wouldn't fit and a wedding dress I couldn't even squeeze into. The wedding shoes, the gloves, and even the bridal lingerie... they were all my best friend Chloe's size. The long-held anticipation in my heart completely vanished, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Ethan frowned, still trying to negotiate with me. "It's just a ceremony. You and Chloe are so close. Honestly, would it be so bad if Chloe stood in your place?" I didn't argue, nor did I refuse. I just thought to myself: If she can stand in for me, then it should be perfectly fine if I change the groom, too.
When I got home, Ethan was on the phone with someone. "She's back. Make sure you stay warm. That cashmere throw blanket I bought you should arrive today." "Drape it over your legs when you sleep. Don't catch a cold..." Listening to those tender, pampering whispers, my eyes burned. I had told him so many times that the AC vent at my office desk blew directly at me. It made my body ache all over. Sometimes, he would look at his computer and casually reply, "Bring a jacket then. Drink some hot water." Other times, he would just stare at his phone and give a lazy, "Oh, okay." Not once had he ever spoken to me in such a soft, gentle voice, telling me he bought me a blanket to stay warm. Hanging up the phone, he finally noticed me. He casually said, "Go make dinner. Chloe is coming over to eat in a bit." Then, he began counting on his fingers. "She likes home-cooked meals. Grill some chicken breast, sear some salmon, make some pasta... oh, and add a salad. She's always talking about losing weight, so a salad is perfect." For a long time after he finished speaking, I didn't move. I didn't say a word. I just stood there, staring at him. Ethan slowly realized something was off, and a forced smile appeared on his face. "What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?" I averted my eyes and looked at the framed wedding photo hanging on the wall. "Aren't you going to ask me how the ring and dress alterations went?" He gave an "Oh," and asked half-heartedly, "Right. How did they go?" A wave of overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. My lips parted, but as my gaze fell on the photo of the two of them just below the wedding portrait, I suddenly didn't know what to say. Before I could speak, he lowered his head to his phone again. Something on the screen made his lips curl into a smile. Even from a few feet away, I could see it clearly. The person texting him was Chloe Miller. In his Snapchat chat history, her name was pinned at the very top. Mine was somewhere below. Her chat was pinned with a golden star. Mine had nothing. At this moment, my best friend looked far more like his girlfriend than I did. Ethan looked up at me, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "What are you still standing there for? She's about to arrive." I had been home for thirty minutes. He hadn't asked a single real question about the wedding or the ring. Even when I tried to remind him, he only gave me a lazy, superficial response. Yet, he was incredibly attentive to everything concerning Chloe. I tried asking one more question. "Does she have any food allergies?" Ethan looked up immediately, his answer slipping out of his mouth without a second thought. "She doesn't eat onions. You know that, right?" I fell silent. After a few seconds, I replied. "I know her tastes." "But I didn't know you remembered them so well." Leaving those words behind, I ignored his changing expression and turned toward the kitchen. This would probably be our last dinner together.
Half an hour later, Chloe arrived with some coffee. Ethan practically sprinted to the entryway. He kicked my slippers aside as if they were in his way, then took out a fresh pair of slippers from the top shelf of the shoe cabinet and handed them to her. A smile played on his lips. "Bought these for you." They were a pair of pink, cozy slippers with cute bunny ears. This exact pair had been sitting in my Amazon cart for six months. Every time I wanted to buy them, Ethan would stop me. "How old are you? Still wearing childish things like that? Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you?" But when it came to Chloe, there was no talk of being "childish," and no fear of being laughed at. He had simply used my credit card to buy them for her. Noticing my gaze, Chloe turned to me with a sweet smile and waved. "Summer, I brought you coffee." Unsurprisingly, there were two iced Americanos and one hot oat milk latte. As she handed me the latte, a memory flashed in my mind. When Ethan and I first started dating, his favorite drink was a hot latte. He had a sweet tooth. He used to say that the taste of a hot latte was just like me, warm and sweet, and once you had a sip, you could never forget it. Back then, my face would turn red, and I would playfully punch his chest. He would laugh out loud, running away while teasingly begging for mercy. After that summer, my usual iced Americano order changed to a latte. But somewhere along the way, the latte in his hand had quietly reverted back to an iced Americano. "Thanks," I muttered, taking the coffee and heading toward the kitchen. Chloe sat down right next to Ethan, leaning her shoulder against his. She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, come on, we're best friends. No need to thank me..." She thought I was thanking her for the coffee. In reality, I was thanking her for showing me what a piece of trash my fiancé was. The sizzling of the oil in the pan couldn't drown out the loud laughter and flirting coming from the living room. Ethan was asking her one question after another. "Is the design for the SE project finalized? You have to put your heart into it. The executives really care about this one." "What do you want to eat tomorrow? Sandwiches or a salad?" "Have you bought the accessories for your bridesmaid dress yet? Do you want me to get them for you?" I listened quietly, and in my distraction, the knife slipped. "Ouch," I hissed. From the living room, Chloe called out, "Summer, what happened?" I sucked on my bleeding finger and answered vaguely, "Nothing, just cut my finger." "Oh," Chloe replied. "Be careful then." Ethan poked his head through the kitchen door. After confirming that I wasn't dying, he shook his head with a mocking chuckle. "Your cooking skills are really going downhill. How do you manage to cut yourself just chopping veggies?" He didn't offer to get a Band-Aid, nor did he offer to take over. He just leaned against the doorframe, making snide remarks. Back in college, when I bumped my knee on his bicycle, he had panicked. He practically carried me on his back all the way to the campus clinic, making the doctor reassure him a dozen times that I was fine before he finally let me go. Back then, resting my chin on his shoulder, I thought, This is the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. But I never could have guessed that years later, when I was bleeding right in front of him, he would look at me with complete indifference. He turned back to the living room to keep chatting with Chloe. My finger kept bleeding, staining the cutting board red. Realizing he couldn't play blind anymore, Ethan sighed and stepped into the kitchen. "Go patch that up. I'll finish this." I looked up at him. "I thought you hated cooking." He had sensitive sinuses and couldn't stand the smell of grease. Ever since we moved in together, the cooking and dishwashing had always been my job. Just last week, we had a huge argument over whose turn it was to do the dishes. But now, he was putting on the apron and rolling up his sleeves with ease. "What choice do I have? Someone said she's hungry..." A playful protest instantly came from the living room. "Ethan!" The man let out a low chuckle and gently pushed me out of the kitchen. I stood frozen in the hallway, finding his laughter incredibly grating. Chloe put down her phone, pulled me down onto the sofa, and grabbed the first-aid kit, crouching in front of me just like she used to. An alcohol swab wiped across my cut. Then, she began wrapping the gauze around my finger. Looking down at my college best friend, my feelings were incredibly complicated. When I had acute appendicitis back in school, writhing in pain on my bed, she was the one who stayed by my side in the ER all night. When we ran out of money at the end of the month, she was the one who bought cheap frozen pizzas so we could survive together. When Ethan and I first made our relationship official, she had hugged me, crying and saying, "Even if you have a man now, you can't abandon me." So, when she moved to New York to find a job, I submitted a special request to bring her into my design department. When she eagerly volunteered to help organize my wedding, I handed all the wedding chores to her so I could focus entirely on the SE project. I had anticipated a beautiful beginning, but I never saw this ending coming. After tying the knot on the bandage, Chloe looked up at me. "Summer, can you let me have Ethan?"
Even though I had already made up my mind, hearing her ask so bluntly still sent a sharp sting through my heart. Under the living room lights, Chloe's eyes were glistening with tears. "You're already the design lead. You're talented, successful, and you have a wealthy family to back you up. But I have nothing." So, that was her excuse for stealing my man. "What if I say no?" The pitiful look on Chloe's face vanished instantly. She squeezed my injured finger tightly, leaning in close, whispering every word. "He gave those sizes to the designer himself." "Don't you want to think about why he knows my measurements so well? Don't you want to know how far we've actually gone?" Without a word, I raised my hand and splashed the cold coffee right in her face. Chloe screamed. "Summer! I'm sorry... it's my fault! I shouldn't have messed up your ring and dress sizes..." The next second, Ethan rushed out of the kitchen. Without giving me a single glance, he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Chloe's head, and gently wiped her face. Then, he spun around and glared at me. "Are you insane?! The wrong sizes weren't her fault! If you're mad, take it out on me!" He shielded her behind his back, his eyes red with anger. It was as if I weren't his fiancée, but his worst enemy. I bit my lip, my voice trembling. "Aren't you going to ask what she just said to me?" Ethan looked back at Chloe, his eyes filled with pity. "She's simple-minded and naive. I don't need to ask to know it was your fault." "Chloe is your best friend. Why do you have to make things so difficult for her?" He didn't even care to ask for the truth. He just assumed everything was my fault. The room fell into a dead silence, broken only by Chloe's quiet, dramatic sobbing. After a long pause, Ethan let out a breath, his tone softening slightly. "I'm sorry, I raised my voice. But you really went too far this time." "Honestly, I felt a bit guilty about my next request, but seeing how you treated her, you owe Chloe an apology." "Give her the credit and signing rights for the SE project." I stood up, staring at him in utter disbelief. Last month, to secure the design for the SE project, I had worked eight nights straight until I passed out and was hospitalized. At the time, he had hugged me and said, "Don't push yourself so hard. You have me." He knew better than anyone that this project was my ticket to becoming the Design Director. And now, he wanted me to just hand it over. Chloe didn't say she didn't want it. She didn't try to play peacemaker either. She just clutched Ethan's sleeve, taking a small step closer to him. I stared at their hands, tightly gripping each other through the fabric. "And if I refuse?" I asked in a low voice. Ethan frowned. "Chloe worked tirelessly to help plan our wedding. You should give her this project as a thank-you." "If you don't agree, our wedding will be postponed indefinitely." I clenched my fists. "Are you sure about that?" He didn't answer. He just took Chloe's hand and walked toward the door. Before closing it, he looked back at me and sighed. "We're going out to eat. Think about it. If you come to your senses, the wedding in three days will go on as scheduled." He didn't say what would happen if I didn't "come to my senses." But his hand, tightly holding hers, said everything. "But I've already decided to change the groom..." I whispered to the empty room. The only response was the click of the door locking shut.
That night, Ethan didn't come home. No texts, no calls. The next morning, I called my parents. "I'm changing the groom." They didn't ask a single question. Instead, my mom laughed. "Good. We knew there was something sketchy going on between Ethan and that Chloe girl. You should have dumped him sooner." "If you hadn't been so head-over-heels for him, we would have never accepted that fake nice-guy anyway." She was right. My parents saw through him instantly, while it took me years to finally see the truth. No wonder Chloe had sent me a photo of their heads resting next to each other in bed this morning, adding a mocking text: Guess what we did last night? I took a deep breath and locked my phone. The moment I stepped out of the elevator at the office, a notification popped up on my phone. The HR Director had tagged me in the WhatsApp work group: "Summer Montgomery from the design department is suspected of plagiarizing the SE project and taking credit for someone else's work. Following a board meeting, the company has decided to terminate Summer Montgomery immediately. She will be blacklisted from the industry." The message was short, but I stared at it for a long time. Muffled laughter and whispers immediately erupted around me. "She called herself the design lead, but she's just a thief. Her own best friend reported her, so it must be true." "To think Ethan wanted to marry her. Who would marry a thief? Gross!" Hearing the insults and jeers, my feet felt like they were glued to the floor. Chloe suddenly appeared, pressing a cup of warm water into my hands, her eyes red. "Summer, it's okay. I don't blame you for the plagiarism. We can still be friends, just like before." Her words sounded comforting, but the smirk on her face was almost splitting her cheeks. I looked straight into her eyes. "Why?" She leaned in close to my ear, whispering, "I warned you to get out of New York. Handing over your man, your project, and your wedding is exactly what a loser like you deserves." "What makes you so sure you've won?" She chuckled. "Oh, just wait and see." Right then, a colleague shouted, "Summer stole Chloe's design by abusing her trust! Getting fired isn't enough, she needs to apologize personally!" "Exactly! A thief like her should be banned from the industry! Let's see who will hire her after this!" Before I could speak, Ethan walked out of the engineering department and stood in front of me, looking like he was trying to protect me. For a split second, my heart softened, and I wanted to tell him I didn't do it. But he quickly turned around, grabbed my wrist, and whispered, "Summer, just apologize. If you admit to it and show some remorse, Chloe won't take legal action." "And our wedding can still happen." The fleeting warmth in my chest vanished instantly. The morning sun hit his handsome face, making him look so familiar yet so incredibly foreign. When I first joined this company, a senior designer tried to steal my credit. Ethan had snatched his badge and marched straight into CEO Mr. Evans' office, risking his own job to get me justice. Back then, he was just a junior programmer with no power or status. Now, he was an executive, yet he was forcing me to apologize for a crime I didn't commit. I shook his hand off and took a step back. "I didn't do it," I said, my voice trembling. He paused, then leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower. "I know. But since you refused to give her the credit, this was the only way." It felt as if a bomb had gone off in my head. My throat felt tight, and I couldn't breathe. Seeing me shake with anger, a flash of pity crossed Ethan's eyes. He took a step forward, staring at me intently. "Even if you lose your job, you still have your parents and me. We can support you." "But Chloe has nothing. If you admit to the plagiarism, she will get the Design Director position." Those lips had kissed me countless times and whispered sweet promises, but now, every word they uttered was like a dagger to my heart. I pried his fingers off my wrist one by one. My voice was hoarse. "I will never admit to it." "You have to!" Ethan's patience finally wore thin. He pointed at Chloe. "Remember when you had acute appendicitis in college? If she hadn't saved you, you would have died. You owe her this." His words were cold and sharp. Chloe pretended to look hurt, but her eyes were dancing with joy. All around me, colleagues were shouting, demanding an apology. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine. I apologize. I plagiarized. I am a thief." I gave a deep bow to the triumphant Chloe. Consider this my payment for her saving my life all those years ago. As I walked out of the building carrying my box of personal belongings, a sleek black Maybach was already waiting by the curb. I looked up at the 35th floor one last time, then slid into the backseat. Almost immediately, Ethan's text popped up on my phone. "The day after tomorrow, I'll be waiting for you at the wedding venue." I typed a quick reply: "No need. My groom isn't you."
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