Chapter 4

She was decorating her wedding to Ivor Gilbert, delighted, my plan in her hands.

It looked exactly like the wedding I'd once imagined for us. Down to the last detail.

Her best friend teased her.

"Not bad, girl. I didn't know you had such a romantic side."

"You never put this kind of effort into your own husband. Aren't you afraid he'll get mad and walk out?"

Susannah Fox folded her arms and gave a soft laugh.

"I can't give Ivor a title, so of course I'll give him the best wedding."

"As for Leo, he's been with me eight years. We got through the poorest days together. Now that things are good and he's at this age, he won't make a fuss over any of this."

So she'd decided I would never leave, which was why she trampled all over what I felt without a second thought.

It was a while before she noticed me standing behind her.

She smiled and came striding toward me, not the slightest bit rattled at being overheard.

"Tomorrow's the wedding. You'll be the host."

I threw off her hand as she reached for mine, my voice shaking. "You two are getting married. Why am I the one hosting?"

Susannah spread her hands, her tone as casual as anything. "Because you're free. A host from an agency runs you three, five grand at least. You studied this once, didn't you? It's no trouble for you."

She lowered her head, scrolled through her phone, and added more.

"Oh, and don't bother with a suit. There's one left over in the closet from the last wedding. Just make do with that."

Her words landed like a slap across my face.

I looked at her and couldn't get out a single word.

So in her eyes, my profession, my dignity, all of it could be converted into money.

But with Ivor Gilbert, a seven-figure ring, skies full of fireworks, she swiped the card without so much as a blink.

Susannah, you can account for every dollar between us. Can you account for eight years of us?

Three years later, I stood at a wedding again. Except this time I was hosting my own wife's wedding to another man.

Truly laughable.

Ivor Gilbert, watch on his wrist, dressed in a bespoke suit, walked Susannah slowly to the front of the stage.

In front of everyone, they were a perfect, happy couple, and I was just the free host at their side.

I gripped the microphone tight and walked the guests through every step of the ceremony through clenched teeth.

Until the last one. The groom kisses the bride.

Ivor Gilbert leaned in beside me and gave me a low laugh.

"No wonder Susannah only ever hands you the bill when she buys a gift. You really suit each other."

"This suit of mine is a global limited edition. One of a kind. She said I deserve the best."

With that, he smiled and walked to Susannah, tipping his head down to look at her.

Susannah didn't spare me a single glance. She let Ivor Gilbert cup the back of her head and kiss her deep.

The string that had been pulled taut inside me snapped completely in that moment.

I slid the divorce agreement into a folder, handed it to her best friend, and fled.

But this time I didn't shed a single tear.

The wedding over, Susannah looped her arm through Ivor Gilbert's and went table to table with the toasts, soaking up everyone's blessings.

That was when she seemed to remember me. Her eyes kept sweeping the hall, but never once found me.

Even after the crowd thinned out, she still hadn't heard from me.

She was just about to call me when her best friend handed her the folder.

"Your husband left this. Said it's a wedding gift for you."

Susannah took the folder, a little uneasy, and opened it.

Divorce Agreement. The words leapt up at her, stark across the page.