Does My Tuxedo Look Good on Him?

On the day of my wedding with Hannah Hawkes, her first love, Lucas Tate, sends his critical notice to her.

He mentions that he wants to wear a wedding tuxedo one last time at a wedding before his death.

In order to fulfill Lucas' wish, Hannah locks me up in a lounge and gets ready to attend the wedding with him.

Her impatient voice echoes outside the door. "Why are you so cold-blooded? Lucas is about to die, you know! What's the harm in letting him have his way?"

Some time after that, Freya Jensen, the young woman who lives next door, gets up to the rooftop and begs me to marry her.

With red-rimmed eyes, Hannah asks pleadingly, "Are you going to give up on our seven-year relationship because of her?"

I merely slap her hand away. "Am I supposed to watch Freya die? It's just a marriage registration. Stop being cold-blooded, will you?"

There was an hour left before the wedding.

I sat before the vanity mirror, staring at photos from Hannah Hawkes' ex, Lucas Tate, on my phone. In them, he wore my custom-tailored suit and smiled as he held her by the waist.

Hannah looked up at him with eyes full of affection.

His text followed. "She said I look better in this than you do.

"If you want your wedding to go smoothly, beg me."

I locked the screen and looked up at the makeup artist. "About the custom-tailored suit I couldn't wear at the last minute, is it true that there was just a tailoring error?"

I had booked the styling team along with the suit. They handled everything from my makeup to photography.

I had paid a fortune and spent weeks coordinating details just to make sure everything would be perfect for the wedding.

Now, the makeup artist couldn't meet my eyes, but that was enough of an answer.

I thought of how distracted Hannah had been when she went wedding-gown-fitting with me, and how she had brushed me off with the busy-with-work excuse when I asked for her opinion on my suit.

It turned out that she hadn't been busy; she just never cared about the wedding at all.

Now, she stood beside Lucas, grinning from ear to ear.

I gripped my phone tighter and took a deep breath. "Please tell Hannah to come here."

I needed an explanation.

After the makeup artist's assistant went to fetch her, I stared at the ill-fitting suit in the mirror and could barely breathe. It struck me that maybe clothes that didn't fit were never meant to be worn in the first place.

Before Hannah arrived, the wedding emcee arrived first. He wore the same look of guilt and apology on his face.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jasper Caldwell, but you don't have to attend the wedding."

I almost laughed in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Are you telling me that as the groom, I can't attend the wedding? Is that what you mean?"

Just as he opened his mouth to explain, Hannah walked in. "It was my decision."

She wore the wedding gown I had custom-designed for her. It was meant to match my suit. However, the veil she was wearing wasn't the one I had picked.

When she noticed that my gaze was fixed on her veil, she shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat.

"Lucas is having his surgery in a few days, and the hospital issued a critical notice. He said his last wish is to wear a suit at a wedding."

I let out a quiet scoff. "At ours?"

I knew who Lucas was. Three years into dating Hannah, I learned that she had an ex-boyfriend who had lost all his hair to chemotherapy.

They were childhood sweethearts, and their families were close. Even after the breakup, they couldn't completely cut ties.

Since he was receiving treatment in another city, his parents, William Tate and Doreen Bartlett, had asked Hannah, who stayed nearby, to look after him.

At first, I respected and sympathized with him. After all, he was a man in his prime, tormented by illness. Then, the favors started. Our date nights started ending early because she had to rush off to deliver soup to him, and that was how my impression of him plummeted.

Time and again, I gave in because he was sick, and Hannah had always been careful to put my feelings first. Whenever Lucas asked her for something, she would tell me and only head over if it was urgent.

Sometimes, she would bring me along, until today.

When had she taken him to the bridal boutique for fittings? When exactly had she decided to give him my custom-tailored suit? When had she decided that he would replace me in our wedding?