Ethan slowly turned around.

Adrian Cole stood a few steps behind us.

Unlike Ethan, Adrian wasn’t smiling.

He wore a dark suit, his coat folded over one arm, and his expression had the terrifying calm of a man who never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed.

Ethan stared at him.

Then at me.

Then back at his brother.

—What did you just say?

Adrian walked toward us and stopped beside me.

—Grace is my wife.

For several seconds, Ethan didn’t react.

Then he laughed.

A short, disbelieving laugh.

—Very funny.

Nobody joined him.

His smile slowly disappeared.

—Adrian.

—Yes?

—Stop joking.

Adrian took my hand.

The wedding ring I had deliberately kept hidden beneath my glove during the party was now clearly visible.

Ethan’s eyes dropped to it.

His face went completely still.

—When?

I answered this time.

—Two years ago.

His head snapped toward me.

—Two years?

—Yes.

—You’ve been married to my brother for two years?

—Legally, publicly, and with both families present.

Ethan took a step backward.

It was almost fascinating.

Four years ago, he had been so certain no other man would want me after him.

Now he looked as though the world had committed some terrible injustice by continuing without his permission.

—Why didn’t anyone tell me?

Adrian’s expression remained cold.

—You disappeared.

—I was studying in Beijing.

—You changed your number twice, ignored family calls, skipped Grandfather’s funeral, and returned only when you felt like it.

Ethan clenched his jaw.

—Mom could have told me.

I almost smiled.

Margaret had tried.

According to her, Ethan had refused every conversation that sounded remotely serious.

Whenever she mentioned family matters, he would say he was busy.

Whenever Adrian’s name came up, he changed the subject.

And whenever my name appeared, Ethan apparently laughed and said:

“Grace will wait.”

He had built an entire future around my obedience without ever checking whether I was still standing where he had left me.

Ethan looked at me again.

—You married Adrian?

There was something almost accusatory in his voice.

I tilted my head.

—You make it sound illegal.

—You were supposed to marry me.

Adrian’s fingers tightened slightly around mine.

I stopped him before he could answer.

—No, Ethan. I was supposed to marry the man I thought you were.

That landed harder.

His face changed.

I continued calmly.

—Then I heard what you said in Beijing.

His breathing stopped.

—What?

—“I already slept with her. Who else would dare marry her?”

The color drained from his face.

For the first time since returning, Ethan had nothing clever to say.

—Grace, I was eighteen.

—So was I.

—I was stupid.

—So was I.

—Lena was pressuring me—

I laughed softly.

—Don’t blame another woman for words that came out of your mouth.

Adrian looked at Ethan with a strange expression.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

That was when I understood.

—You knew?

Adrian nodded.

—Not everything.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

—What did she tell you?

—Enough.

Adrian’s voice dropped.

—Enough to understand why she cried the first time I asked her to marry me.

Silence.

That memory still hurt differently.

Two years after Ethan disappeared, Adrian had proposed quietly in my father’s garden.

No photographers.

No banquet.

No family pressure.

Just one question.

And I had cried because my first thought wasn’t happiness.

It was fear.

I had asked him whether he knew about Ethan.

Whether he knew what people whispered about me.

Whether he knew I had once believed his younger brother would marry me.

Adrian had simply said:

“I am asking you to marry me, Grace. Not the version of you that society approves of.”

That was the moment I began to understand the difference between being wanted and being respected.

Ethan looked between us.

—So that’s it?

His voice had changed.

The arrogance was cracking.

—Four years and you just replaced me?

I stared at him.

—You abandoned me the morning after asking me to trust you.

His jaw tightened.

—I came back.

—And?

—I came back for you.

—Four years late.

He suddenly stepped toward me.

—Then divorce him.

Adrian’s expression hardened.

I actually thought I had misheard.

—Excuse me?

Ethan’s breathing became uneven.

—Divorce Adrian.

He looked directly at me.

—We were supposed to be together first. Everyone knew it. Our families planned it. I made a mistake, but I came back. I’ll fix everything.

I looked at him for several seconds.

Then I laughed.

This time I couldn’t help it.

Ethan’s face darkened.

—What’s funny?

—You.

I wiped the corner of my eye.

—You still think this is about what you want.

His voice rose.

—Grace, don’t pretend you stopped loving me overnight.

—I didn’t.

That answer surprised him.

I continued.

—I spent nearly two years trying to stop.

His expression softened immediately, as though he had discovered a weakness.

—Then you still—

—Don’t misunderstand.

I moved closer.

—The woman who loved you had to disappear because you made her ashamed of loving you.

That wiped the hope from his face.

Behind us, the hotel doors opened.

Margaret came outside.

She saw the three of us and stopped.

—Oh no.

Ethan turned toward her.

—You knew.

Margaret closed her eyes briefly.

—Ethan—

—You knew Grace married Adrian.

—Of course I knew. I attended the wedding.

—And you never told me?

His mother’s expression suddenly became tired.

—I tried to tell you for two years.

Ethan froze.

Margaret pulled out her phone.

She opened their old messages.

One after another.

“Call me. Something important happened with Grace.”

“Your brother is engaged.”

“Ethan, you need to call home.”

“Adrian and Grace are getting married next month.”

Each message had been left unread or answered with some variation of:

“Busy.”

“Later.”

“Don’t bother me with family gossip.”

Ethan stared at the screen.

For once, there was nobody else to blame.

Then Margaret delivered the final blow.

—And Lena called me six months ago.

Ethan’s head shot up.

My eyes narrowed.

Margaret continued.

—She told me why you really returned to Hong Kong.

Ethan’s face changed immediately.

—Mom.

Adrian’s voice became colder.

—Why did he return?

Margaret looked at her younger son.

—You should tell them.

—I came home because I finished university.

—That’s not what Lena said.

Ethan’s hands curled into fists.

Margaret looked at me.

—Lena said Ethan proposed to her three months ago.

Silence fell across the entrance.

Then she added:

—And she rejected him.

I stared at Ethan.

Suddenly everything made sense.

The confidence.

The sudden return.

The certainty that I would still be waiting.

He hadn’t returned because he finally understood my value.

He had returned because the woman he chose instead of me had refused to choose him.

Adrian gave a humorless laugh.

—So Grace was your backup plan.

—That’s not true.

Ethan looked at me desperately.

—Grace, listen to me—

My phone vibrated.

A message appeared from an unknown number.

There was a photograph attached.

Ethan and Lena outside a jewelry store in Beijing.

Taken only three days earlier.

Beneath it was one sentence:

“Grace, Ethan is lying to all of you. He didn’t come back to marry you. He came back because his father threatened to remove him from the Cole inheritance unless he married before his twenty-third birthday.”

I slowly lifted my eyes.

Ethan had seen the message.

And judging by the terror on his face, every word was true.