Chapter 2

For the past two years, the world had been vocal about my marriage.

They said Evelyn Stone was the most fearless war correspondent of her generation—broadcasting live from battlefields, reporting from the rubble, her voice stripping war down to its brutal truth.

Then I got married.

I became Evelyn Cross.

Just another anchor reading entertainment news.

Some people pitied me. Some mocked me. Some said I'd finally "wised up."

Two years ago, when I got married, everyone was talking about the wedding.

They called it the wedding of the century, finally happening.

But it was actually a small ceremony.

Nathan had promised me a lavish, show-stopping celebration when he proposed, but when the time came to plan it, I chose to keep things simple. The money we saved went to charity.

I invited only close family and friends. That day, I wore my white gown, my heart pounding faster with every passing second.

I stood beneath the floral arch, waiting for Nathan to walk toward me, take my hand, and say "I do."

It was the happiest day of my life.

Then the door was flung open.

The sound was jarring.

Every pair of eyes snapped toward it.

Selena walked in.

She wasn't dressed simply at all.

A champagne-colored gown, the bodice encrusted with crystals so bright they threatened to outshine the bride.

She held up a camera, lens first on herself, then sweeping across the room.

"Hey everyone—" she said as she walked, "I'm at the wedding of my favorite person! I know you've all been dying to see this, right? Sorry to keep you waiting!"

My mind went blank.

This wasn't some public event. This was my wedding.

I didn't want strangers watching.

I saw my mother's expression freeze. The bridesmaids instinctively moved to block the lens. Someone tried to stop Selena, but she slipped through the crowd anyway.

I walked over, frowning. "What are you doing? This is a private wedding."

She blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. "I'm just sharing the joy! Everyone's going to send their blessings. Look—there's already tens of thousands of people watching."

Tens of thousands.

I turned to Nathan.

I thought he'd take my side.

Instead, he rested a hand on my shoulder like he was soothing a fussy child.

"Don't be like that," he said quietly. "She doesn't mean any harm."

I stared at him. "She's livestreaming."

Nathan pressed his lips together, his gaze drifting past me to land on Selena.

There was something in his eyes—something I only understood later. Tenderness.

"She's had it hard... all these years," he said. "Don't take it personally."

Had it hard.

That line again.

Selena stood right there, camera aimed at us, her voice turning aggrieved. "I really didn't mean to cause trouble. I just thought... when I get married someday, I won't have any family there to witness it. You two have the most beautiful love I've ever seen. I just wanted to capture it."

Nathan had told me about her past—the poverty, the five jobs at once, putting herself through college with livestream income, finishing grad school on her own, and now doing fieldwork to help the underprivileged.

At first, I'd genuinely felt for her.

But after spending time with her, I found it impossible to be her friend.

The more pitiful she sounded, the more innocent she looked on camera.

And the more I looked like the petty bride.

After that day, my wedding video went viral.

The comments were ecstatic:

"Finally got to see it live! She did great!"

"Don't be so uptight, bride. Everyone's just sending love."

"Selena is so brave. She deserves to be treated gently."

"She worked so hard to get where she is. What's wrong with wanting to share some happiness?"

I was the one in the wrong.

Wrong for wanting boundaries.

Wrong for thinking my wedding belonged only to me and him.

I opened my eyes and returned to the cold reality of the present.

I opened the door and walked into the living room.

I pulled up Selena's vacation posts on my phone and held it up to him. "Why did you lie to me?"

Nathan's tone was dismissive. "I didn't lie. It was a business trip."

"You spent her birthday with her. You gave her limited-edition jewelry. Everyone online is saying how perfect you two are. What else do you have to say?"

He raised a hand and rubbed his brow hard, as if I were the one causing problems. "Evelyn, don't blow this out of proportion. You know who you are. Commenting on her posts like that—you'll start a scandal."

So he wasn't afraid of hurting me.

He was worried Selena would get dragged into it. Worried about his own exposure. The only person he wasn't worried about was me.

I asked, "Why did you let her show you to the public?"

Nathan was silent for two seconds before answering, "She needs the engagement. It's how she makes a living."

Making excuses for her had become second nature to him.

"And what about me?" I asked. "What do I need?"

His phone buzzed. He glanced down, and his expression shifted.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he turned away, already redialing.

The call connected, and his tone switched instantly.

"Don't be upset," he coaxed softly, walking into the kitchen with his back to me. "I wasn't being harsh earlier... I was just worried about the fallout."

I watched his retreating figure.

This man—I'd loved him for seven years.

I'd loved him for holding me tight when I came back from the field, saying "You're home—that's all that matters." For wiping the dust from my face and murmuring "You're so brave." For promising "I'll give you a home" with eyes so sincere I believed every word.

Now all I saw was a man who'd started lying and brushing me off for another woman.

I could feel it clearly: this hadn't happened overnight.

From the day he met Selena, something had begun to rot.

Something like our marriage.