Chapter 1

On the day we met to discuss the wedding, my parents wore clothes they had bought just for the occasion.

We sat in the private dining room of a high-end French restaurant, waiting. Three hours passed before my fiancé, Elliott, and his parents finally showed up.

The moment his mother, Victoria, sat down, she pointed at the bowl of wild mushroom consommé in the center of the table and looked at my mother.

"Freda’s mother, dear, would you mind ladling some soup for me? This silk dress is custom Valentino. I can't risk getting a drop of grease on it."

Her tone was casually dismissive, the way one might address a hired maid.

My temper flared, but Elliott caught my hand under the table, squeezing it gently. "Freda, relax," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Your mom is a housekeeper; she’s used to serving. She’s quick on her feet. My mom’s never lifted a finger in her life. It’s just a hand. Don't be so sensitive."

My mother froze. She blinked, a shadow of embarrassment crossing her face, before she quickly wiped her hands on her stiff, new skirt. Forcing a polite smile, she stood up.

"It’s fine, really. I’ve got it."

She carefully spooned the soup, ensuring the ladle didn't drip, and offered the bowl with both hands.

Victoria didn't even look up. She poked at the liquid with her silver spoon, her brow furrowing in deep distaste. "You didn't even strain the herbs? Elliott has a delicate stomach. He can't possibly drink this with bits floating in it."

My mother stood frozen, the color draining from her face. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, looking utterly terrified of having caused offense. "Let me... let me get another bowl and strain it..."

Watching her stand there, so small and desperate to please, a sharp, burning ache rose in my chest.

I stood up, pulled my mother back into her seat, and grabbed the bowl of soup. Without another word, I dumped it directly into the trash can by the sideboard.

While Victoria gasped in shocked outrage, I turned my gaze to Elliott. I felt entirely cold, entirely calm.

"Elliott," I said, "the wedding is off."