What are you regretting?

After seven years together and ninety-nine spectacular proposals, New York heir Julian Whitlock finally makes Evelyn Ashford consider marriage. Minutes later, she overhears the truth: every ring, every firework, and even the anonymous online romance that once broke her heart were rehearsals for another woman. Evelyn has already fallen for the same man twice. She refuses to do it a third time. With her childhood betrothal match Marcus Lowell beside her—polite, dangerous, and far too amused by chaos—she kicks open the door on Julian's lies.

But ending a seven-year relationship is easier than surviving the grief, the family pressure, and Julian's desperate attempt to reclaim the woman he treated as a backup plan. This time, Evelyn will decide what love means, whom she trusts, and whether any man gets a place in her future.

Chapter 1

Julian Whitlock had proposed to me ninety-nine times.

The ninety-ninth involved a private yacht on the Hudson, a string quartet, several hundred white roses, and enough fireworks to make passing aircraft reconsider their routes.

I stood beneath the exploding gold sky with tears in my eyes while Julian knelt in front of me, holding out a pink diamond.

"Evelyn Ashford," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "will you marry me?"

For seven years, my answer had always been no.

I loved him. I simply didn't want marriage. I'd told him that before we started dating, and he'd sworn it didn't matter. Then, three years into our relationship, he proposed in Norway under the northern lights. After that came Bali, Cappadocia, Hokkaido, and what I privately called his Global Tourism Board Era.

In Hokkaido, he'd spent hours building tiny snowmen that looked like him guarding one snow princess that looked like me. His hands had turned bright red.

"Evie, I'll protect you forever."

In Cappadocia, he'd produced an eleven-carat pink diamond in a hot-air balloon.

"You deserve the best of everything."

I had refused every ring.

That night, however, the moon was gentle, the fireworks were ridiculous, and Julian looked at me as if no one else existed.

I didn't take the diamond. But for the first time, I gave him hope.

"I'll reconsider us," I said.

His face changed. It was only a flicker, but I saw triumph before tenderness covered it.

He kissed my fingers. "That's all I need."

Later, I returned to the private lounge to find the bracelet I'd left on the table. The hallway door was almost closed. I reached for the handle and heard laughter inside.

"Ninety-nine proposals," one of Julian's friends said. "Julian, how many times are you going to practice on Evelyn before you finally propose to Selena?"

My hand stopped.

Without quite deciding to, I slid my phone from my purse and pressed record.

Another man laughed. "Seriously. First you date Evelyn online under a fake name, dump her without warning, then show up as yourself and spend seven years making her fall for you again. What if your little rehearsal backfires and she actually marries you?"

For a second, I wondered whether there was another Evelyn.

There wasn't.

Selena Mercer had been my university classmate. She was now Julian's personal assistant, though he always called her a junior from school whom he happened to be helping.

Inside the room, Julian poured a drink.

"A strategist sometimes has to enter his own game," he said in the solemn tone he used when he wanted nonsense to sound profound. "If fate insists on defeating me, then perhaps losing is part of the plan."

His friends made admiring noises.

I nearly opened the door just to ask whether they heard themselves.

Then someone said, "Everyone in New York knows Marcus Lowell is obsessed with Selena. Too bad Marcus and Evelyn were promised to each other as children. If you hadn't moved first, Evelyn might've gone running to Marcus and forced that family match through."

The childhood betrothal was real, in the loose, embarrassing way promises between old family friends could be real. My mother and Mrs. Lowell had joked about it since before Marcus and I were born. No documents. No ceremony. Just two wealthy families and one story that refused to die.

I had barely spoken to Marcus Lowell as an adult.

Another friend lowered his voice. "After pretending this long, don't you feel anything for Evelyn?"

Silence.

My heart pounded so hard I could hear it over the music from the deck.

At last Julian said, "She's the Ashford heiress. Her family has been wealthy for generations, and she'll make an excellent wife."

He paused, then added, "If I have to settle for her, I won't exactly lose."

Settle.

Seven years of breakfasts, late-night calls, holidays, promises, and ninety-nine proposals reduced to one word.

I looked down at the smoky glass bracelet on my wrist. Julian had climbed a thousand chapel steps for it, kneeling at every one. At the time, I had thought no one could fake that much devotion.

Now I wondered whom he'd been praying for on the way up.

My fingers shook as I pulled the bracelet off. The cord snapped.

Beads scattered across the marble floor.

I crouched automatically, reaching for them.

Then one of Julian's friends said, "The fake online-boyfriend move was brutal, though. Make her depend on you, disappear, then come back as the perfect real-life guy? You trained her into loving you twice."

My hand froze above a bead.

Twice.

That was when I understood.

I hadn't fallen for two men.

I had fallen for the same man twice.