Chapter 1: The Masquerade

Fifteen minutes before I was scheduled to walk down the aisle, my mother, Margaret, suddenly clutched her chest, gasped for air, and collapsed onto the velvet carpet of the bridal suite.

“Eleanor!” my brother, Dominic, shouted, his face pale with panic. “Mom’s having a heart attack! Forget the ceremony—we have to get her to the hospital right now!”

Forgetting everything about the wedding I had spent a full year meticulously planning, I kicked off my high heels, tossed my bouquet aside, and rushed my mother to the emergency room. My hands trembled as I helped the paramedics push the gurney through the sliding glass doors.

However, the moment we reached the resuscitation bay, my phone vibrated in my coat pocket with a notification from our family group chat.

Dominic: “Eleanor has been successfully lured to the hospital. The wedding can proceed now.”

A second later, my father replied.

Father: “Don’t worry, I’m already walking Genevieve down the red carpet arm-in-arm.”

My brother sent one final message: “Genevieve has waited ten whole years. Today, she can finally marry Sebastian openly and legitimately.”

Within seconds, all three messages were hastily deleted. But before I could even comprehend the text on the screen, my best friend, Seraphina, accidentally dropped a thirty-second video clip into the group chat.

In the video, my younger sister, Genevieve, was wearing the custom-made designer wedding gown I had spent months trying on and fitting. At the end of the flower-covered aisle stood Sebastian—my fiancé of seven years—dressed in his sharp black tuxedo. With a tender, reverent smile, he slid the diamond band that bore my initials onto Genevieve’s ring finger.

Around them, our relatives and close friends—people who had hugged me yesterday and wished me a lifetime of happiness—were cheering loudly in unison: “Kiss her! Kiss her!”

I stood frozen in the sterile hospital corridor, the cold air rushing into my lungs like shattered glass.

Suddenly, a hand snatched the phone right out of my grip.

I turned around to see my mother sitting upright on the hospital bed. The agonizing chest pain on her face had vanished without a trace, replaced entirely by the flustered panic of someone caught red-handed. She hastily peeled off the electrocardiogram pads from her chest.

“Eleanor… listen to me,” my mother pleaded, her voice trembling as she held my hands tightly. “Genevieve has loved Sebastian for so many years. She just wanted a wedding that truly belonged to her.”

I stared at her, my vision blurring with tears. “A wedding that belonged to her?”

“You’ve had Sebastian all to yourself for seven years!” she snapped, her tone turning defensive. “Can’t you just yield to your sister this one time? You are the older sister—why must you be so selfish?!”

I looked at the discarded medical sensors on her bed, then at her pristine, unblemished complexion. A bitter, hysterical laugh tore from my throat.

So everyone was playing the hero in their own sweet story. The devoted sister, the protective parents, the romantic groom, the loyal friends.

I was the only blind fool, performing as the clown for their pathetic entertainment.

Chapter 2: The Stolen Life

By the time I rushed back to the hotel ballroom in my torn gown and running shoes, Sebastian was holding Genevieve’s hands, reciting his wedding vows into the microphone.

“From the moment I met you, every sanctuary I searched for in the rest of my life… was only ever you.”

My breath hitched in my chest.

Those words—I had written them myself. To condense seven years of shared memories into a single, meaningful vow, I had stayed up for three consecutive nights, drafting and revising every syllable. Just last night, Sebastian had held me tightly under the moonlight, whispering that he would recite those exact words only to me.

Yet here he was, standing under the crystal chandelier, reading my heart’s blood to my sister without changing a single letter.

As I marched toward the stage, the guests spotted me. The loud applause died down instantly, replaced by a suffocating, awkward silence.

Sebastian turned. Upon seeing me, his hands dropped from Genevieve’s waist, and he took a subconscious step toward me.

“Eleanor… you should go back to the hospital,” he said softly, reaching out to grasp my shoulder. “Let the ceremony finish first. I’ll explain everything to you afterward.”

I slapped his hand away, my voice shaking with raw betrayal. “Explain what, Sebastian?! Explain why she is wearing my wedding dress? Why she is wearing my ring? Why she is standing next to my groom?!”

Sebastian stepped in front of Genevieve, using his body to shield her from my glare. A flicker of cold impatience flashed across his eyes.

“Because this wedding was prepared for Genevieve from the very beginning,” he said quietly.

That single sentence shattered whatever was left of my heart.

For an entire year, I had slaved over every detail of this wedding—from the floral arrangements to the tasting menus, from the invitation card stock to the seating charts. And now, he stood there and told me it was never meant for me.

“The diamond veil she is wearing,” Sebastian continued indifferently, “Genevieve picked it out months ago from a French atelier. She was overseas and couldn’t come back for fittings, so I had you confirm the measurements in her place.”

I stared at him, my lips trembling. “And the dress?”

“It’s hers too,” he replied without a hint of remorse. “The original design sketch was drafted to Genevieve’s exact proportions.”

An ice-cold wave washed over me.

No wonder. No wonder when I tried on the dress six months ago and found it slightly too tight around the waist, Sebastian refused to let the tailor alter it. Instead, he strictly supervised my diet, forcing me to skip dinner for six months just so I could squeeze into a gown made for another woman’s body.

Genevieve stepped out from behind Sebastian, her hand slipping into his. Her eyes overflowed with a carefully crafted blend of pity and sorrow.

“Sister, please don’t blame Sebastian,” Genevieve murmured softly. “I was the one who asked him to pursue you seven years ago.”

“What?” I choked out.

“Back then, I had to go abroad for my medical treatments, and doctors said I might never come back,” Genevieve explained, wiping a nonexistent tear from her cheek. “You had just been dumped by your ex-boyfriend, crying yourself to sleep every night. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer like that, so I begged Sebastian to take care of you temporarily.”

She smiled, a subtle glint of triumph dancing deep in her eyes.

“The warm breakfasts brought to your dorm every morning? I wrote the daily menu for him. The restaurant for your first date? I picked it out. Even the confession speech he gave you under the dorm light—I taught him every single word.”

My throat felt as though it were filled with lead.

For ninety-nine days, Sebastian had pursued me relentlessly. I had cherished those ninety-nine days so deeply that I recorded every tiny detail in a leather diary. Every romantic gesture, every thoughtful word that had made my heart flutter… none of it had ever belonged to me.

My best friend, Seraphina, stepped forward, holding the train of her bridesmaid dress.

“Eleanor, hiding it from you was wrong, I admit that,” Seraphina said, placing a hand on my arm. “But Genevieve has suffered far more than you have. She had to watch the man she loved stay by your side for seven long years, yet she never tried to break you two up. She’s been more than generous. Don’t push her into a corner.”

I turned my head slowly to look at the girl I had called my best friend for over a decade. “So you knew all along?”

Seraphina nodded solemnly. “We were just afraid you couldn’t handle it. You’re so emotional, Eleanor. If you found out Sebastian’s true love was Genevieve, who knows what crazy scene you would have caused?”

Every single person in that room—my parents, my brother, my fiancé, my best friend—stood in a united front behind Genevieve. They looked at me with defensive, guarded eyes, as if I were not the victim who had been deceived for seven years, but a lunacy-driven intruder threatening to ruin an innocent girl’s happiness.

Suddenly, the phone in my pocket vibrated again. It was an email from the international project director in London who had extended a job offer to me three months ago.

[Miss Vance, the permanent senior director position must be confirmed tonight. We are holding the final seat on the midnight flight for you.]

Chapter 3: The Calculation

I gripped my phone tightly, recalling how I had turned down this exact career opportunity three months ago for Sebastian’s sake.

Back then, he had wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head in my neck and pleading softly: “Eleanor, if you move to London, what am I going to do? We’re getting married soon. Can you really bear to leave me behind?”

Because of those sweet words, I had given up a dream position I had worked toward for years.

Looking at the man before me now, I squeezed out one last question through my tears. “If Genevieve came back three months ago… why didn’t you just break up with me? Over these seven years, did you ever love me for even a single second?!”

Sebastian fell into a long, suffocating silence.

Genevieve let out a soft, helpless sigh, looking at me with gentle condescension. “He didn’t break up with you because I wouldn’t allow him to, Sister. You made Sebastian your whole world. I was terrified that if he left you abruptly, you would fall apart again.”

She walked toward me gracefully, taking my trembling hands in hers like a benevolent queen granting mercy.

“Sister, I let the man I love stay by your side for seven years. I watched him celebrate birthdays with you, take engagement photos with you, even plan a wedding with you. I’ve compromised enough.”

She paused, gently placing her hand over her lower abdomen.

“If it were just me, I could keep yielding to you. But I’m three months pregnant now. I cannot let my child be born and forced to call his biological father ‘Uncle’.”

Sebastian’s expression shifted instantly. He wrapped a protective arm around Genevieve’s waist, his voice softening with immense care: “Genevieve, the doctor said you shouldn’t get agitated. Stop explaining things to her.”

He raised his head to face me, his demeanor turning icy cold.

“Eleanor, Genevieve has sacrificed for you for seven years. Now that she is carrying my child, I can no longer play along with this charade. Leave gracefully. Don’t make things ugly for everyone.”

A charade.

With those two words, he erased seven years of shared history.

He conveniently forgot how, when he was hospitalized with acute gastroenteritis during his senior year, I stayed by his bedside for two days and two nights without sleeping a wink.

He forgot how, when his family cut him off financially to oppose our relationship, he gave up his sports car and moved into my tiny, dark rented apartment. We shared a single bowl of instant noodles, and he gave me the only fried egg, smiling softly: “Eleanor, wait for me. I will make sure the whole world knows you chose the right man.”

He forgot how, when his first startup collapsed and left him with millions in debt, I worked my day job as an architect and took on freelance design work until 3 AM every night, sacrificing my youth to clear his debts side-by-side.

The day he secured his first major venture capital investment, he had held me in his arms and wept bitterly, swearing that he would never fail me in this lifetime.

“A charade…” I repeated softly, wiping the tears from my face. “Fine. Sebastian, remember what you said today.”

I didn’t throw a tantrum. I didn’t destroy the floral arrangements or tear Genevieve’s dress. I simply turned around and walked out of the grand hotel, leaving behind the suffocating sea of fake blessings.

I called the project director on my way to the airport. “I accept the London offer. I will be on tonight’s flight.”

Chapter 4: The Reckoning and Regret

Before stepping onto the plane, I made a call to the top commercial litigation law firm in the city.

“I want to file a lawsuit against Sebastian Sterling and his company, Sterling Enterprises,” I said coldly to the senior partner. “I am claiming full restitution of all personal funds, freelance earnings, and liquid assets invested into his firm over the past seven years, along with a 25% equity stake corresponding to my initial capital contribution.”

During those years of struggle, I had foolishly trusted Sebastian, but I was never stupid. Every transfer I made to his account, every loan I helped him pay, and every architectural blueprint I authored for his company was meticulously logged and archived on a cloud server.

While Sebastian and Genevieve were celebrating their lavish honeymoon in Bali, my lawyers served Sterling Enterprises with an emergency asset-freezing order and a formal court summons.

Without my architectural designs, Sterling Enterprises’ flagship project stalled indefinitely. Worse still, the court froze all of Sebastian’s commercial accounts pending trial.

Three months later, I flew back from London briefly to attend the final court hearing. Sitting on the plaintiff’s bench in a tailored charcoal suit, I watched as my legal team presented undeniable bank statements, signed funding agreements, and intellectual property registrations.

The judge ruled entirely in my favor: Sebastian Sterling was ordered to repay me $4.2 million in principal and interest, and return 25% of the company’s equity to my name immediately.

Without the capital and with its reputation tarnished, Sterling Enterprises collapsed like a house of cards within six months. Sebastian was forced to liquidate his luxury cars, sell his penthouse, and file for bankruptcy.

To make matters worse, life after marriage was far from the fairy tale Genevieve had envisioned. She knew nothing about managing a household, and the constant financial strain led to endless arguments.

During the bankruptcy audit, Sebastian discovered that Genevieve had never gone abroad solely for medical treatment; she had spent those years living extravagantly off various wealthy suitors, only returning when she thought Sebastian was rich. Furthermore, her alleged “pregnancy” was a complete lie, fabricated to trap him into marriage.

Three years later.

As the Global Design Director for a top international firm, I returned to the city to oversee the grand opening of a landmark commercial center I had designed.

Stepping out of the luxury hotel into a light drizzle, a disheveled man in a faded, worn-out suit suddenly burst through the security line, lunging toward me.

“Eleanor! Eleanor, please wait!”

The security guards immediately restrained him, pinning him to the ground.

I stopped in my tracks and looked down. It took me a moment to recognize the haggard, hollow-cheeked man kneeling in the rain. It was Sebastian.

“Eleanor… it’s me, Sebastian!” he sobbed, his voice cracking as he looked up at me from the wet pavement. “I divorced Genevieve… I kicked her out two years ago! She lied to me about everything! She never loved me!”

I stood silently under the umbrella, watching him without a flicker of emotion.

“I was blind, Eleanor!” Sebastian cried hysterically, beating his fist against the ground as tears mixed with the rainwater on his face. “You were the only one who truly loved me! You worked night shifts with me, you ate instant noodles with me… I ruined everything!”

He reached out a trembling, filthy hand, trying desperately to touch the hem of my coat.

“Please, Eleanor… give me one more chance. I don’t care about money or status anymore. I just want my Eleanor back!”

I stepped back gracefully, avoiding his hand.

“Sebastian,” I said softly, my voice calm and crystal clear against the sound of the rain. “The Sebastian who shared instant noodles with me died three years ago at that wedding. The man standing here today is just a stranger who owes me nothing, and means nothing to me.”

“No… No! Eleanor, please don’t leave me!” he wailed, trying to crawl forward, but the guards held him firmly in place. “I regret it! I regret every single second of it! Please!”

I turned around, stepped into the warmth of the limousine, and closed the door.

As the car pulled away smoothly into the city lights, Sebastian was left kneeling alone in the pouring rain, clutching his face and sobbing in unbearable, agonizing regret—a broken man doomed to spend the rest of his life mourning the paradise he had thrown away with his own hands.