Chapter 3

Elspeth's POV

The next day, Wren told me Rhett was pouring everything he had into the wedding. The scale of it rivaled the one he’d thrown for me.

I just nodded. Somehow, he still found time to have someone drop off three meals a day at my door. Juggling two women at once. It must have been exhausting for him.

The wedding was held in the grand ballroom of the Harrow Hotel. Wren and I took seats in the farthest corner, half-hidden behind a marble column. Celia had insisted on a cocktail hour before the ceremony so she could be paraded around on Rhett’s arm—and there they were in the middle of the room, guests swarming them like moths to a porch light.

"Remember that wedding Rhett threw for Elspeth? Who’d have thought Celia would get the exact same treatment?"

At my name, Celia’s grip on Rhett’s arm tightened. Rhett’s voice came out cool, drawing a hard line. "Elspeth and I are divorced. Today is about Celia. Let’s leave the past where it belongs."

The guests rushed to agree, heaping praise on Celia, and every compliment to her came with a little dig at me. Rhett smiled warmly through all of it. Then he lifted his glass and made the room the same promise he’d once made me.

"I will never let Celia down."

The light went out of my eyes. Beside me, Wren was grinding her teeth.

Someone started tapping a spoon against a champagne flute. "Come on, Rhett! Kiss the girl! Don’t make us wait till the vows!"

In seconds, the whole room was clinking glasses. Celia flushed and peeked up at Rhett with practiced shyness. In the middle of all that noise, he brushed his fingers along her jaw, bent his head, and kissed her—soft and unhurried. The room erupted.

All that noise, and for me, the whole world went silent.

Whatever was left of my heart, I couldn’t hold onto it anymore.

At least by now, most of the memories were gone. The pain that should have ripped me in half had dulled to something I could carry.

My phone lit up. Flight reminder: BOS → GVA. Boarding begins in 2 hours.

"Wren. I have to go."

Wren threw her arms around me and squeezed, her eyes red. "Go. Get away from these garbage people. Go to Geneva and shine. Leave this to me. I’ve got a little wedding present for them."

I laughed and patted her back. I didn’t ask what she had planned. In a few more hours, somewhere over the Atlantic, every memory of loving Rhett Calloway would be gone for good.

——

Rhett's POV

I was standing at the altar beside Celia, sliding the ring onto her finger, when I caught a glimpse of someone near the back—a woman, pulling a suitcase toward the doors.

Something in my chest lurched.

Then I talked myself out of it. Elspeth thinks she’s my sister now. If she’d come, she would’ve walked right up and said hello. She wouldn’t just slip out without a word. I was seeing things.

The chandeliers dimmed, leaving a single spotlight on the two of us. The ceremony was building to its big moment. The officiant smiled. "You may now kiss the bride." And the guests started up again, clinking their glasses, cheering—

That’s when an enormous banner unfurled from the balcony railing above us.

Wren Boone stood right beside it, a megaphone in her hand and a cold little smile on her face. She read it out loud, nice and slow, so nobody could miss a word.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO THE HOMEWRECKER AND THE MOB-BOSS CHEAT! YOU TWO DESERVE EACH OTHER!"

Celia went white and ducked behind me. When I saw who it was, the anger hit fast and hot.

"Wren, what the hell is this? Elspeth and I are divorced. Celia is not a homewrecker!"

Wren laughed. "Wow. You really want it both ways, don’t you? You divorce your wife, make her drink a memory wipe, and promise to remarry her once you’re done playing house. Did you know Elspeth was completely lucid these past three days? She watched every single thing you did."

My voice went cold. "That’s impossible. I gave her the serum. She doesn’t remember."

"You idiot. It doesn’t work all at once. It takes three full days to finish the job. Everything you did in those three days, she saw with her own two eyes." She tipped her chin up, savoring it. "You don’t even know who you bought it from, do you? That reclusive genius you wired a hundred million dollars to? The one who invented that serum? That was Elspeth Voss. Your wife."

She let that sink in.

"And one more thing. That serum has no antidote. None. Elspeth has forgotten you completely. She’s never coming back to remarry you. So go ahead—live happily ever after with your savior."