The Wedding He Stole for Her Birthday - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

I'd spent years waiting for Alexander to say the words. No matter how much people laughed at me or tore me down, I refused to walk away—not until he told me himself.
So I stayed. Stubborn, foolish, pouring every ounce of love I had into him, praying it would matter someday.
But the wedding forced my eyes open. The truth was, he'd made his choice long ago. I was just the last one to see it.
He always said he liked quiet girls—the kind who knew their place.
So I became that for him. Reserved. Accommodating. Docile.
But Madeline? She didn't have to be any of those things. She could throw tantrums, make demands, and Alexander would still look at her like she hung the stars. Every bit of his warmth was hers, while I got the scraps—his doubt, his impatience, his cold indifference.
He smirked, voice dripping with disdain. "Scarlett, do you even hear yourself?
"Think about it. Since Madeline came back, what haven't you done? You hired thugs to kidnap her. Spread rumors painting her as the other woman. Even tried to have her run over. Now you're saying you'll let go? You expect me to believe that?"
Each accusation hit like a punch to the chest, leaving me gasping under the weight of it. I knew these words by heart.
Ever since Madeline returned, one "coincidence" after another had eroded Alexander's trust in me. He was exhausted—always lecturing me on how to "behave."
But the truth? I was the one who'd been kidnapped. I hadn't fueled those rumors. And that "accident"? A setup, orchestrated by Madeline herself.
My lips parted, the protests rising—but Madeline's mocking stare and the sneers of his friends froze them in my throat.
What was the point? Nothing I said ever changed his mind.
Alexander would never believe me.
Noticing my silence, Madeline let out a saccharine laugh and sidled up to Alexander. "Alexander, her mother's dying. You shouldn't break your promise just because she hurt me. Maybe I should cancel my birthday party..."
"She's not worth that," Alexander said, barely glancing at me.
For a second, hope flickered—then died as his cold tone smothered it.
Madeline tapped his chest playfully. "Alexander, be nice. She did waste ten years on you... for my sake." Then she turned to me, venom wrapped in sweetness. "Here's a deal. Kneel. Apologize for everything you've done to me. Drink these ten bottles of alcohol. Do that, and I'll convince Alexander to show up at your wedding. Fair?"
I searched Alexander's face for any protest.
Nothing.
His silence was answer enough.
The memory of my mother's hopeful eyes flashed in my mind. Jaw clenched, I started to kneel—
Then Madeline grinned and smashed several bottles onto the floor, glass shards glittering like teeth.
In a knee-length dress, I didn't need to guess what would happen next.
The air was thick, suffocating.
Just as I braced myself, Alexander's voice cut through.
"Enough, Madeline. You can't stand the sight of blood."
Madeline's smile twisted, but she didn't argue.
I almost laughed. Why was I still hoping?
Turning to the remaining bottles, I met Alexander's eyes. "If I finish these, you'll come? No take-backs?"
Something flickered in his expression. "Scarlett, you're allergic—"
"Save it," I whispered. "Just keep your word."