Chapter 3

Chloe's POV

News of the canceled wedding spread like wildfire through our social circle.

Some said I had a terrible temper, while others said Carter had gone way too far. Most people stayed quiet, waiting to see if the Vance family and the Sterling family would completely cut ties.

I didn't make any public statements.

I slept for half a day in the apartment Liam lent me. When I woke up, I texted my parents to let them know I was safe. Then, I paid off the remaining balances for all the wedding vendors. The banquet was off, but the florists, photographers, and coordinators had worked hard for months. I didn't want to dump my personal mess onto innocent people.

The florist called me, speaking very carefully. "Miss Vance, the flowers for the main stage are still fresh. Would you like to redirect them to a charity gala? Didn't you mention the Vance Foundation has an event next week?"

I held the phone, quiet for a few seconds. "Yes, do that. Change the theme. Don't use any of the wedding colors."

When Liam walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of oatmeal, I was busy writing down a checklist.

"Aren't you going to rest?" he asked.

"Someone has to tie up the loose ends." I handed him the tablet. "I've handled the venue. If the Sterlings try to harass me, tell them to talk to my father's lawyers."

Liam scrolled through the list, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You're much tougher than I thought."

I smiled faintly. "I just used to waste all my strength being 'understanding' for Carter."

That afternoon, Iris posted on Instagram.

In the photo, she was sitting in a hospital corridor with a warm latte in hand. Her caption was short but sharp: *Some bonds don't need a label. Those who know, know.*

A mutual friend immediately sent me the screenshot.

I saw it and didn't reply.

But then, Carter called again. This time, he used an unknown number.

"What do you actually want?" he demanded the second I picked up. "The wedding is canceled, the guests got stood up, and the hotel deposit is gone. Are you happy now, Chloe?"

I replied flatly, "I paid the vendors in full."

Carter choked on his words, his tone getting angrier. "Do you think throwing money around makes you right? Iris almost had a miscarriage today, and you haven't even called to check on her!"

I let out a bitter laugh. "What does her baby have to do with me?"

"You know damn well she has nobody else!"

"She has you," I said. "Carter, you don't get to play daddy to her baby while expecting me to be your sweet, understanding fiancée. I'm out of the game. You're free."

Silence fell over the line.

Carter seemed to finally realize how cold my voice was. His tone softened slightly. "Chloe, I never wanted to lose you."

"But you've been doing things to lose me every single day."

I hung up and blocked the number.

Liam stood by the kitchen door. Seeing me set the phone down, he asked, "What do you want for dinner?"

No lectures. No deep analysis. No telling me to be mature or calm down. He just asked what I wanted to eat.

My nose suddenly tickled, and I seriously thought about it. "I want something sweet."

Liam rolled up his sleeves. "Deal. I'm cooking tonight."

Halfway through the delicious dinner, I suddenly stopped eating.

Liam looked up. "Stomach hurt?"

I shook my head. "I was just thinking... was I really that easy to please back then?"

As long as Carter said "don't bother me," I would instantly doubt myself, wondering if I was being too sensitive. As long as he bought me a makeup gift on holidays, I would completely overlook his coldness from the day before. I used to call it "compromising for love." Looking back, I was just cleaning up his emotional mess.

Liam didn't badmouth Carter. He only said, "That wasn't your fault. The fault lies with the person who knew you were easy to please, and chose to hurt you anyway."

I looked down, taking a sip of the soup. The spicy flavor made my eyes water. I didn't want to cry, so I forced a laugh. "Since when did you become such a smooth talker?"

Liam froze, his fork hovering in the air. "I've had practice."

"With whom?"

"With someone I couldn't win over," he said, staring at me. "For many years."

While Liam cleared the table, I sat there quietly.

I suddenly remembered the first time I brought Carter home. My mother had pulled me aside and asked, "Is he good to you?" Back then, I defended him fiercely, saying he just wasn't good with words, and that successful men always had a temper. Now, those excuses felt like a pathetic cover-up for my own denial.

"What are you thinking about?" Liam asked.

I looked up. "I think my mom knew back then. She just couldn't bear to break my heart."

Liam set a glass of warm water next to me. "Well, you don't have to make excuses for anyone anymore."