Chapter 1
At our wedding, my fiancé slapped me in front of both our families—all because of his bridesmaid.
That same day, I took off my engagement ring and called off the wedding.
Everyone thought I was just acting out in the heat of the moment.
After all, Charles Harrow and I had grown up together. I'd been in love with him since I was little, following him around for twelve whole years.
But this time, I meant it.
Later, when he finally found me, he stared at me in disbelief and asked,
"Why? Over one slap?"
I answered calmly, "Yes. Over one slap."
When Charles's hand struck my face, the force knocked me sideways.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
The sharp crack of the slap rang out, and the entire reception hall fell silent.
My left cheek went numb, then began to burn as if it were on fire.
I pressed a hand to my face and slowly turned back to look at him.
My fiancé had just slapped me in front of both our families.
I'd caught Lydia Vale wearing my wedding dress without permission and refused to let her be my bridesmaid.
Even Charles looked stunned for a second after he hit me. Then his usual cold expression settled back over his face.
"That's enough, Tanya. Stop making a scene. The wedding's about to start. Can you act like an adult for once?"
Our parents drew sharp breaths and hurried over to smooth things over.
Lydia stood beside him, biting her lip, her eyes glistening. She let out a soft sigh.
"Charles, please don't be like this... It's my fault. I shouldn't have tried Tanya's wedding dress without asking. I just loved it so much. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I won't be a bridesmaid. Please don't fight because of me."
Charles glanced at her, his voice turning even colder.
"Tanya, if you don't want to get married, you can leave right now. All our guests are here for the wedding. This isn't the place to throw a tantrum."
Humiliation, hurt, and anger surged through me all at once.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
With everyone watching, I slipped the ring off my finger, turned, and walked away.
I didn't want to explain myself. I certainly wasn't going to stay and let them laugh at me.
Truthfully, Charles had never treated me all that well. But he'd never slapped me before.
And that wasn't all.
In my twenty-two years, no one had ever hit me across the face.
Charles and I came from families that had been close for generations.
Our grandfathers had served in the military together. We lived in the same neighborhood, our houses separated by nothing more than a wall.
I'd been in love with Charles since I was a little girl.
When I was five, a boy in our neighborhood stole my doll, pulled my pigtails, and even put bugs in my backpack.
Crying, I ran to my mom. She spoke to his parents, but they brushed it off as kids being kids.
Charles's grandfather happened to be at our house playing chess with mine that day.
When he heard what had happened, he called Charles over and told him to look out for me from then on.
Charles was two years older than I was.
The moment he heard I'd been bullied, he waited until the boy was playing on the playground slide, then pinned him down and gave him a beating.
Charles had always been tall for his age, with a hard, intimidating streak. He sent that boy and his two friends running home in tears.
Before leaving, he looked back at me.
"If anyone messes with Tanya again, they'll answer to me."
That was when I fell for him.
From then on, I became his little shadow. I stuck to him every day, following him wherever he went.
Charles didn't like having me tag along. He'd been mature for his age, and he thought dragging a little girl around all day was embarrassing.
But I wouldn't give up. I followed him everywhere, calling him "Charles" and "big brother" in that affectionate way I had.
After a few years, he gradually got used to me and stopped trying to shake me off.
He'd carry my backpack for me. When it rained, he'd tilt his umbrella toward me.
Whenever I called his name, he'd turn around right away.
Charles's grandfather once suggested that, since we were so close, our families should promise us to each other and let us marry when we grew up.
Charles didn't say a word, but he didn't refuse, either.
I saw his ears turn red.
I was so happy I practically shouted, "Yes! I'm going to marry Charles when I grow up!"
But three years ago, everything began to change.
