I stopped struggling. A wave of exhaustion washed over me.
Quentin glared at me, storming forward and snatching the soda can from my hand. “Enough. If you don’t want to marry, then don’t! Picking on someone who lost her memory—how low can you be? I can’t believe I ever thought you were kind. Apologize to Liv. Now.”
I stood there, numb, as everyone rushed to comfort Olivia. Turning away, I ran.
By the time I returned to the dressing room, my emotions were under control, but what I saw shattered me.
Quentin was on the couch, holding Olivia in his arms. A smear of red on his lips hinted at what they had just done.
“Quentin, where’s the groom? Did Natalie get abandoned at the altar?” Olivia asked curiously.
I froze in the doorway, gripping the frame so hard my knuckles turned white.
One last chance.
I locked eyes with Quentin. My heart screamed, ‘Say it. Say you’re the groom. If you do, I’ll forgive everything.’
He noticed my gaze and stiffened.
Olivia pouted, biting his lip. “Tell me, Quentin!”
I shook my head desperately. Don’t answer. Just don’t answer—
Quentin lowered his eyes, smiled, and whispered, “Liv, you know him.”
“Oh? Who is it?”
“Ryan Pickett.”
At that moment, something inside me shattered.
