Marianne's POV
I pulled Colette’s hand away from my eyes, only to see that the two of them were still on the bench, kissing like nobody else existed.
My hands shook as I dialed Gideon’s number. Once, twice, three times.
Yet he ignored every call, acting like he couldn’t hear.
Only when he finally picked up his phone did he see my text.
[Gideon, since you’re busy today, I came to the amusement park with my best friend.]
The moment he read it, he jumped to his feet and looked around in panic. But Arabella tugged on his arm and dragged him toward the roller coaster. That was when I stepped out from behind the tree.
All afternoon, I watched them riding the carousel together, taking the Ferris wheel all the way to the top.
All the while, I held Gideon’s spare phone, so I read his private wedding plans with Arabella.
Hundreds of wedding dresses were also sent to their group chat for the guys to vote on.
Those men usually sweetly called me and took favors from me, yet not one of them told me about the plan.
I used to believe Gideon just wasn’t into wedding stuff.
Back then, I handled our wedding planning myself. I picked the dress, and I tried it on alone. Even during the rehearsal, I stood in an empty hall pretending he was there, while he claimed to be too busy with work.
When my mom complained, I even defended him, reasoning, “Men just don’t care about these things.”
But tonight, I sat in the city’s best restaurant with Colette, back-to-back with Gideon and Arabella.
As he ordered food for her, he was messaging me, flooding me with pictures of wedding gowns and asking, [A friend of mine is getting married. Since you’re good at planning weddings, can you help her pick a dress?]
I scrolled through hundreds of photos and picked the gown I once loved most, the very same one Gideon had told me wasn’t flattering on me.
Yet he quickly replied, [My wife really has great taste. My friend loves it.]
Soon after, a message popped up in my work group chat.
[Boss: There’s a small private wedding at the church this weekend. The groom needs an experienced planner. Who’s available?]
Without hesitation, I typed, [I’ll take it.]
The next few days, Gideon acted like nothing had changed. He still staged little “romantic gestures” for me. But I noticed the difference. Most of those gifts were cheap leftovers. Clearly, the real treasures went straight to Arabella.
They were like lovers in their honeymoon phase, a love-hate couple, still targeting each other, but becoming deeply affectionate.
Arabella flaunted it shamelessly. [If I keep pushing forward, what place will she have left?]
She never said my name, but everyone knew. And I pretended not to. I just focused on the wedding I was planning.
When everything was finally set, Gideon came home with his usual apologetic face. “Marianne, I’ve got a business trip this weekend. I’ll have to bail on you again.”
He leaned in to kiss me, but I moved just enough to dodge it.
That flicker of rejection startled him.
“Baby, next week, I swear, I’ll spend every moment with you,” he promised again.
When I nodded faintly, he finally relaxed.
I offered to drive him to the airport, but he refused. I could just watch him get into Arabella’s car.
By Saturday, I had the timing memorized. I drove to the church with Colette, and from there, I remotely ran the entire ceremony, lights, music, everything.
And I invited everyone: Gideon’s clients, his employees, his relatives, his friends.
When the groom pulled up with his bride, he froze at the sight of the packed hall. For a second, he thought he was at the wrong wedding.
But one of Gideon’s closest friends frowned in annoyance. “What the hell are you all doing here? This isn’t some free-for-all. Get out before the bride and groom arrive—”
Then he turned and saw Gideon, stepping out of the car with Arabella on his arm. And his face went pale.
Holding a framed photo of Gideon’s father, I stepped out of the crowd, pressed the remote, and the projector switched on.
As their elegant couple’s photo was changed, Arabella’s carefully applied makeup seemed to crack.
"What the hell is happening?!" she shouted, fuming.
