Chapter 1

My fiancé Julian's assistant, Chelsea Vane, had always competed with me for the front passenger seat.

But on my wedding day, she didn't fight me for it.

Chelsea pointed at the seat next to the groom. The one in the back. The one that belonged to the bride.

"I'll sit here."

"Sweetie. Didn't you say you get carsick unless you're up front?"

"It's your big day.I'll suck it up for once. I'll squeeze in next to Julian."

I stood in front of the wedding car in a Vera Wang trumpet gown.

"Get her out."

Julian shook his head. Gave me a tired look.

"Ella. She's real giving you space. Are you really going to make a scene over this? Are you getting in or not?"

"If you keep this up, don't bother. Walk yourself over."

He checked his watch. I smiled.

"Fine. I'll walk."

I didn't hesitate. Turned. Walked toward a car that was right behind the wedding procession.

"You said you'd wait for me. Forever. ”

“Come marry me,right now."

***

The wedding cars had been parked outside my parents' house for three hours.

Three hours. Chelsea wouldn't get out of the back seat.

Relatives started stepping forward, blocking the car.

"Only the bride sits next to the groom. Whose wedding is this, Ella's or Chelsea's?"

"We're three hours late. We're going to be late for the ceremony.Somebody get her out of the car."

My mother stood beside the passenger window, holding out a thick envelope stuffed with cash.

"Miss Vane, this is for you. Please take it and get out of the car. Don't make this any harder for Ella."

Before her hand could reach Chelsea, Julian's face turned to stone.

"Don't touch her."

The shout froze my mother where she stood.

That was the only sentence Julian Ashworth said to my mother the whole morning.

The wedding cars had shown up an hour late to begin with.

Julian wasn't answering his phone. Nobody would tell us anything.

My father thought there'd been an accident on I-95. He grabbed his old bike out of the garage and rode ten miles down the route we'd mapped, until he flagged the wedding cars down.

The wedding car was empty. My father's bike folds. It would have fit in the trunk.

But he rode ten miles back.

His jacket was streaked with dust. He stopped in the little grove behind the house and brushed himself off before he walked in the front door.

He didn't want the guests to see.

Watching him do that. Something in my chest twisted so hard I couldn't breathe.

Every step of the ceremony my parents had planned got skipped. Julian never got out of the car.

His only explanation:

"Sorry. Rough night."

But the lipstick stain on his collar was visible from ten feet away.

Chelsea pulled three sentences out of the air and poured the whole mess on me.

"Ella. You know there's nothing going on between me and Julian. You're the one making a scene in front of all these people. That's on you."

"He handles executives twice his age at negotiating tables. He gives them an out when they lose face. You're supposed to be his bride and you can't even do that?"

She sat in the back seat wearing the shirt I'd had custom-made for Julian for the wedding.

Sea-island cotton. Sewn at Turnbull & Asser on Madison. His initials embroidered over the pocket in French navy.

Today Julian was wearing yesterday's shirt. The one that reeked of bourbon and someone else's perfume.

"Chelsea drank too much last night. Didn't have anything clean. This was the only clean shirt in the apartment. I gave it to her."

I pressed every feeling in my chest down to say it flat.

"Julian. Call the wedding off."

Julian glanced at his Patek.

Impatience flickered across his face.

"Ella Marsh. I'm begging you. Enough."

"Give me a straight answer. Are you really refusing to get married over a seat?"

"Yes."

I cut him off before he could finish.

Julian looked at me. Nodded slowly.

"Fine. You can have it."

He took Chelsea's hand, helped her out of the wedding car, escorted her to the sedan behind it, opened the rear door, and settled her into the back seat.

"Ella. Both back seats and the passenger seat of the wedding car are yours. Take your pick."