Chapter 1 Why Did He Lie to Me When He Was Actually with Her?
Emma's POV
I practically floated into Eternal Moments, my heart racing with excitement. Today was the day—after ten years of knowing Gavin Reynolds and five years as his girlfriend, I would finally choose the dress that would transform me into his wife.
"Ms. Garcia, welcome!" The bridal consultant, Audrey, greeted me with practiced warmth. "You're our first appointment today. Would you like some champagne while we wait for Mr. Reynolds?"
"Just water, thank you." I checked my phone again. No messages from Gavin. "He should be here any minute."
Audrey guided me to a plush seating area. As I waited, my mind drifted back ten years. I was fifteen when my parents died in a car accident. They had been on their way to meet with a potential business partner.
Eleanor Reynolds, touched by my situation, offered to become my sponsor. She arranged for me to finish school at Brookline Academy and set up a trust for my college education. "No child should have their future stolen from them," she'd said simply.
Gavin was eighteen then, already being groomed to take over the family business. From the beginning, he took a special interest in me. He'd check in regularly, bring me books I mentioned wanting to read, and make sure I had everything I needed. He was always so kind to me.
"Ms. Garcia?" Audrey's voice pulled me back to the present. "More water?"
I blinked away the memory. "Yes, please."
I tried to calm my nerves by focusing on the moment. After ten years of Gavin being in my life and five years of dating, we were finally getting married. The thought still felt surreal.
Fifteen minutes passed. Then thirty. I called Gavin, my stomach knotting when it went to voicemail twice before he finally picked up.
"Board meeting," he said, voice clipped. "On my way."
Audrey approached with a sympathetic smile. "Reynolds men and their schedules. While we wait, shall we look at the collection I've prepared?"
When Gavin finally arrived, I felt that familiar flutter. He looked immaculate in his gray suit, though his expression seemed strained.
As he leaned in to kiss my cheek—a quick, perfunctory gesture—I noticed a long blonde hair on his shoulder. Without thinking, I brushed it away, my fingers hesitating for just a second. Gavin didn't notice.
"Sorry I'm late. Crisis at the office." His phone buzzed, and his attention immediately shifted downward.
Audrey presented five gowns she'd selected based on our initial consultation. Each one represented a different vision of our future together.
"What do you think of this one?" I asked, pointing to a traditional ball gown with French lace.
He glanced up from his phone. "Nice."
His phone vibrated again. Though he angled it away, I caught the notification preview—"S❤️" followed by words I couldn't make out. Something cold settled in my stomach, but I pushed it aside.
"And this A-line design?" I prompted, forcing brightness into my voice.
"Also nice." His frown deepened at whatever message he'd received.
I indicated a simple, elegant dress with a sweetheart neckline. "I love this one. Perfect for our beach ceremony, don't you think?"
Suddenly attentive, Gavin looked up. "Not too fitted. Something simple, like the one from last time would be better."
The boutique seemed to go silent. "Last time? We've never shopped for wedding dresses before."
Panic flashed across his face, an expression I'd never seen on the always-composed Gavin. "I meant like the styles you usually wear. To events."
The silk dress felt like a second skin as Audrey helped me into it in the fitting room. I tucked my mother's blue handkerchief—her last gift to me before the accident—into the bodice and felt a bittersweet pang. They should have been here today.
"You look breathtaking," Audrey whispered. "Ready to show your fiancé?"
I stepped out, heart full of hope that seeing me like this would reignite whatever had been fading between us lately.
The waiting area was empty.
"Mr. Reynolds received an urgent call," a sales associate explained, eyes averted. "He said to tell you it couldn't wait."
Standing alone in white silk and tulle, I felt painfully conspicuous. I called him, the dress rustling around me like whispers of warning.
"Emma," he answered, distracted. "Emergency with the South African supplier. Send photos?"
My voice remained steady. "Of course. Work comes first."
Back in the fitting room, Audrey asked tentatively, "Would you prefer to reschedule, Ms. Garcia?"
"No." I straightened my shoulders. "Let's continue. I'd like to try the other designs too."
I went through the motions, trying on each gown while Audrey took photos. I chose the first dress—it truly was perfect—and paid the deposit, all while maintaining a composed smile.
"Mr. Reynolds will regret missing this," Audrey said as I prepared to leave. "You're a beautiful bride."
"Thank you for everything today." I gathered my purse, my earlier excitement replaced by a hollow feeling I couldn't shake.
Outside, rain had started to fall. I hurried to my car, clutching my portfolio of wedding dress photos that only I had seen. The drive home felt longer than usual, each traffic light giving me more time to replay Gavin's hasty departure in my mind.
By evening, I was curled up on my sofa with a glass of wine, scrolling through the photos I'd taken for Gavin. I'd sent them hours ago. He hadn't responded. Would he even look at them?
My phone chimed with a text from an unknown number. No message, just an image attachment. Confused, I opened it.
The photo loaded with perfect clarity: Gavin outside Boston General Hospital, his hands tenderly supporting Sophia White, his brother's pregnant widow, into his Mercedes. The timestamp read 7:15 PM—barely thirty minutes ago. His face showed an expression I hadn't seen in years—genuine concern, tenderness, attention.