The Fiancé’s Romantic Wedding Plan Was for My Best Friend Chapter 02

Outside, a torrential downpour raged.

Rain mixed with tears blurred my vision.

Behind me, I heard Eloise’s frantic shouts. “Odette! Wait! Let me explain!”

Eloise dashed into the rain. Grayson yanked her back under the awning.

He pulled her close, voice frantic. “You have asthma. You can’t run around in the rain just to indulge Odette’s tantrum!”

Every word landed in my ears.

I stood a few feet away, soaked to the bone, yet I couldn’t command a fraction of his concern.

Eloise sobbed and pounded on his chest. “Do you know how much this hurts Odette? Why couldn’t you just agree to change the date?”

Grayson lowered his gaze. “A starry-sky wedding on June’s Valentine’s Day was my promise to you. I won’t change it.”

Eloise stared at him blankly. She stopped hitting him and buried her face in his chest, sobbing harder.

My chest felt like it had been ripped open with scissors. Raw. Agonizing. Unbearable.

I had no idea how long I stood in the rain. When I finally made it home, the house was empty.

In the living room, Grayson’s laptop was still on, looping the love story video I’d spent weeks editing.

Clip after clip twisted the knife deeper.

Grayson and I met in college.

I fell for him freshman year. I pursued him for a year before he agreed to be mine.

Grayson was reserved. Almost oblivious when it came to romance.

Birthdays. Anniversaries. He never surprised me.

But I treasured what we had. I didn’t mind giving more, understanding more.

Then came this wedding. Grayson insisted on planning it all himself.

I thought he’d finally come around. I’d been walking on air for weeks.

But it turned out all that careful planning was to give Eloise her dream wedding.

Grayson wasn’t unromantic. He just never wanted to be romantic with me.

Late that night, Grayson still hadn’t come home.

I took a sleeping pill and finally drifted off.

When I woke up the next morning, my phone was flooded with notifications.

Eloise had posted a late-night melancholy tweet.

“Does love care about who came first, or who holds the title?”

The attached photo was a throwback of her and Grayson from high school.

Eloise was a micro-influencer with over a million followers. Within hours, fans traced the image to a couple’s account dormant for a decade.

That account had documented a teenage romance. First love. First everything. It stopped updating the day the girl left for college abroad.

Now Eloise had posted the same photo, essentially claiming that girl was her.

The guy’s identity surfaced quickly. As Grayson’s current partner, my social media exploded within hours.

Old fans who’d rooted for them ten years ago all decided I was the homewrecker. My DMs filled with vile abuse.

“Don’t you know the unloved one is the real third wheel?”

“How dare you be with Eloise’s man, you shameless—”

“God, just do the decent thing and let these soulmates be together!”

The venom made my blood boil.

It took several minutes to calm down. I screenshotted everything and forwarded it to Eloise.

She video-called me instantly, face plastered with fake guilt.

“Odette, I was such a mess yesterday. I just posted without thinking… I never meant for this to blow up on you.”

I smirked. “You didn’t think then. But you know now, don’t you?”

“I want you to delete that post immediately and issue a public apology.”

Eloise bit her lip. Before she could answer, someone took the phone from her.

Grayson’s face filled the screen.

“Eloise is a public figure. She can’t apologize to you publicly on a whim.”

“If you’ve done nothing wrong, ignore it. Don’t stoop to their level.”

His dismissive expression made it clear he saw my harassment as a minor inconvenience.

My heart sank.

Not just because of Grayson’s attitude, but because of the furniture behind him.

That was his parents’ house.

I knew Grayson went there every Sunday for family dinner.

But I never knew Eloise was there with them.

An hour after the call, I arrived at the Harpers’ place.

I didn’t knock. I stood outside, listening to the laughter spilling from inside.

Mrs. Harper, who’d always been stern with me, sounded warm. Genuinely warm. Toward Eloise.

Even Grayson’s border collie—the one I’d tried and failed to bond with for years—circled Eloise, tail wagging furiously.

I’d worked so hard to earn the Harpers’ approval.

Eloise had all of it long before I entered the picture.