Chapter 1

Chapter 1

At our twelfth attempt at a wedding, Elias was late again.

To keep the guests calm, I had to walk around with a glass of champagne, explaining to each of them one by one like an idiot.

That was when I got a text from Chloe, one of the researchers in his lab:

Stop waiting. He's not coming. He's still in the lab with me.

And here's a little secret while I'm at it: the only reason he proposed to you is because I got a boyfriend and he was insanely jealous. You were just a rebound. A stand-in.

He's regretted it for ages. Why else would he keep stalling you with excuses?

Twelve times, Vivian. Have a little self-respect.

I didn't reply. I didn't fall apart. I just watched calmly as Elias finally hurried in.

He was still wearing his lab coat.

"The collider data started fluctuating. I'm late," he said, without any expression at all.

I'd heard that line so many, many times.

He handed me roses by way of apology, then picked a few strawberry gummies off a nearby tray.

"If there's nothing else, I'm going. Chloe's waiting for me to help with the data in her paper."

I looked back at my parents, up front, apologizing to the guests on my behalf.

Exhaustion and disgust swept over me all at once.

And suddenly, it hit me: the groom didn't have to be him.

•   *   *

Elias never cared about anything that had nothing to do with physics. Sometimes he even got my name wrong.

I'd always thought he was just lost in his academic world, the same with everyone.

But just now, there'd been a whole pile of colorful candies on that tray, and the only ones he'd taken were Chloe's favorite kind.

And I was standing right in front of him, allergic to roses, my arms already breaking out in a dense, angry rash.

I stared blankly at the apology bouquet he'd brought.

I thought about all the times I'd lost my temper over how little he cared, and how he never once explained. Those beautiful blue eyes would just frown at me until I'd finished venting, and then he'd act like nothing had happened.

"Vivian!" My mom turned around, saw the red welts on my arms, and panicked. She dragged me into the car and raced to the ER.

On the way to the hospital, the allergic reaction started to blur my mind. All I could hear was my mom's muffled crying.

"This is your fault! You insisted on taking her to that physics department dinner! You insisted on introducing her to that freak!"

My father was Elias's doctoral advisor.

He'd admired Elias's talent, back then. But me—I'd been bewitched by that face, plain and simple. I'd tagged along after him like a puppy you couldn't shake, chasing him for eight whole years.

I remembered how, when we'd first met, he'd pushed up his rimless glasses and said in a perfectly flat voice, "Vivian, I don't do the whole dating thing."

I'd shrugged and grinned like I didn't have a care in the world. "That's okay. I can teach you."

He'd looked at me, and the corner of his mouth had twitched.

Only now did I understand. That look had been nothing but helpless exasperation and annoyance.

Outside the ER, my dad called Elias over a dozen times. Finally he got through to the lab, and they still couldn't find him.

"Elias isn't here. I think he's dealing with something important."

"You tell him," my father said, his voice cold as ice, "that if my daughter goes into shock and dies here today, I will use every connection I have to make sure he never touches another research project as long as he lives."

My dad had barely delivered the ultimatum when I looked up and saw Elias walking down the hospital corridor, holding up a petite young woman.

Elias, a germaphobe with the strictest boundaries I'd ever seen, was letting that girl press against him without an inch of space in between.

And Elias, who barely ever spoke, kept fussing at her. "Chloe, the doctor said you have to take the fever reducer on schedule. You can't—"

He didn't finish. His eyes collided with mine in midair.

So a little fever for Chloe was a big enough deal to him that he'd happily walk out on his precious collider experiment.

I remembered the year some drunks harassed me on the New York subway. I'd had a panic attack and called Elias for help.

His voice had been perfectly calm, like cold laboratory glass. "Calling me won't help, Vivian. What you need to do right now is call 911."

To him, I was no different from a stranger on the street.

"What's wrong with you?" He came over and asked, as if doing me a great kindness.

Chloe was still hanging on his arm. She looked at me, frail and apologetic. "Vivian, I'm so sorry. It's your big day, and here I am bothering him like this."

I smiled. "Don't worry about it. You can bother him as much as you like from now on."

"Because I'm not marrying him."