Chapter 5

Russell lit up his phone screen. Again.

His text thread with Seren was still stuck on the last message he had sent her: Let me know when you've thought things through. I'll come back then.

Something was off.

He knew Seren.

Even when they gave each other the silent treatment, her silence was always calculated—a little tactic to grab his attention.

But he had moved out exactly five days ago, and she hadn't posted a single thing on Instagram.

"Russ," a mutual friend slid a phone across the table, his voice laced with genuine amazement. "Whoa. Seren’s bridal photos... they are stunning."

Russell snapped back to reality.

It was an Instagram photo dump posted by Mia.

In the center square, Seren was standing in a wedding dress.

She was framed by massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

Sunlight poured in, casting a soft, angelic glow around her.

She was looking down, her fingers gently tracing the satin fabric of her gown.

A faint, peaceful smile played on her lips.

She was beautiful. A kind of beauty he hadn't seen in her for a very long time.

Stripped of all her usual anxiety, leaving only a quiet, grounded grace.

The comments from their mutual friends were flooding in:

"Seren looks absolutely gorgeous!"

"Russell is one lucky son of a bitch!"

"Congratulations! Finally!"

Mia had blocked him from her Instagram stories and posts ages ago.

He couldn't see them on his own feed.

But through his friend's screen, he caught a glimpse of the celebration.

A sudden, inexplicable surge of anger hit him.

Was she seriously doing this? Making such a massive public spectacle?

"Wow, she's really playing the part," he scoffed, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "Let her put on her little show. I'm not showing up. Let's see how she plays this out all by herself."

His friend chuckled awkwardly. "Come on, Russ. Is that really necessary?"

"Some boundary lines need to be drawn," Russell cut him off coldly.

"Especially when she's got people in her ear hyping her up. Once this whole drama blows over," he paused, his tone pointed, "I'll make sure she understands who she needs to cut out of her life."

In his mind, Mia had long been classified as a toxic influence on Seren. She had to be isolated.

October 28th.

The day after the photo dump went live. Russell woke up early.

Earlier that year, Seren's parents had visited for dinner.

Over wine, her mother had casually mentioned that the last perfect weekend for a fall wedding this year was in late October.

Any later, and they'd have to wait until next spring.

At the time, he had just smiled, poured them more wine, and brushed it off with a casual, "No rush, we have plenty of time."

In his head, he had thought it was ridiculous.

A major life event shouldn't be dictated by some random seasonal calendar.

But he never expected Seren to actually take it to heart.

She had seriously booked this exact day!

Texts and missed calls from his buddies started rolling in.

["Russ, you seriously not going? We're all suited up, just waiting for your word to head over!"]

["Do we need to organize the cars? If we leave now, we can still make it."]

He let out a short laugh and typed into the group chat: What's the rush? Let her wait.

He pictured Seren right now—sitting in their decorated condo in her wedding dress, nervously checking the clock, a mess of anticipation and anxiety.

The thought fed his ego.

A twisted sense of satisfaction swelled in his chest.

He needed her to taste real panic. It was the only way to ensure she wouldn't pull a stunt like this again.

Then, someone dropped a screenshot into the chat. It was a fresh Instagram story from Mia.

The photo showed a master bedroom, beautifully decorated for a bridal morning.

White and gold heart balloons floated against the ceiling.

Fresh rose petals were scattered across the duvet.

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, filling the room with a warm, incredibly romantic vibe.

The caption read: My girl deserves all the happiness! Groom, you better hurry up!

The group chat blew up.

["Holy shit, she actually set the whole place up!"]

["Dude... I can't even watch this. Russ, you have to go!"]

["Russell! Be a man and get your ass over there! Don't let this backfire!"]

["Drop the address! We're rolling out with you!"]

The harsh light of the screen reflected on Russell's face.

He stared at the photo, his grip tightening on his phone.

Every single detail in that room was crying out for the groom to arrive.

He imagined himself pushing that door open, the crowd cheering, and seeing the absolute shock and joy in her eyes...

He turned his head, glancing toward his walk-in closet.

A custom-tailored suit hung front and center. Tie, cufflinks, polished leather shoes—everything was ready.

A week ago, for some inexplicable reason, he had possessed his assistant to get it all prepped.

Now, with his friends hyping him up relentlessly, the tight string of his stubbornness finally loosened.

He hit the voice memo button, keeping his tone perfectly annoyed and reluctant. "Alright, alright, chill out."

He made it sound like he was only caving because they wouldn't shut up.

"Give me a minute to change."

He got up and walked into the closet. His pace was faster than usual, though he didn't realize it.

Just as he fastened the last button of his crisp shirt and reached for the suit jacket, his phone rang.

It was one of the guys who had driven ahead to scout the location:

"Russ... how come your marital home is sold? Where the hell are we supposed to pick up the bride?"