I Cancelled The Wedding While He Paid For Her Dream Dress Chapter 10

I Cancelled The Wedding While He Paid For Her Dream Dress Chapter 10

A year later, I came back to the city. The rescue center was my first stop.

The courtyard had been renovated. The kennels were spacious and filled with sunlight now. A plaque on the wall credited Wildscope’s documentary fund for the renovation.

The director came out carrying a new puppy, grinning so wide his whole face lit up. “Maren. Look at you. You’re completely different now.”

I took the puppy, one hand steady under its belly. “What’s different?”

“You used to carry yourself like you were waiting for someone else’s permission,” he said. “You don’t look

like that anymore.”

I smiled down at the puppy and didn’t argue.

I didn’t know Callum was across the street.

He saw me and stopped dead.

He was thinner. Noticeably. The old designer suit hung loosely on his frame now. He was holding a DoorDash order, his knuckles red and raw from the cold.

He took a step toward me. Then Reid came over and opened the SUV door, and Callum stopped.

Reid said something to me, leaning close. I laughed, climbed in with the puppy, and pulled the door shut.

Callum lurched forward. Two steps before the paper bag swung into his knee. Hot coffee spilled out and

burned the back of his hand.

I did not look back.

The verdict was handed down. Brielle got prison time. Wire fraud and perjury charges.

Callum was buried under years of debt. Corporate fraud, embezzlement, and a mountain of c

stacked on top of each other. The Harcourt family cut him off entirely.

At some point, Callum’s mother showed up at my parents’ door and made a scene.

civil suits

Mom called me crying. “Maren, I didn’t see it. I didn’t understand what he was doing to you.”

I was sitting at a departure gate, watching planes taxi. “Mom. Don’t ever take someone else’s side over mine again.”

She choked back a sob. “Are you still angry with me?”

I watched a plane lift off. “I’m never going to shrink my life down again so you can keep up appearances.”

That spring, Reid and I headed out to Northstar Basin.

The wind picked up after sunset. We parked the convoy by a lake, and the puppy-the one we rescued-was curled at my feet, sound asleep.

Reid set up his camera, then glanced back at me. “Dr. Whitlock. Are you sold?”

I wrapped both hands around my thermos. “I’m fine.”

He came over anyway and tightened the scarf around my neck. “Stubborn.”

I looked up at him. “You know you don’t have to take care of me, right?”

Reid didn’t miss a beat. “If my lead consultant gets sick, the whole shoot gets delayed. Purely professional.”

I nodded slowly. “Right. Mr. Ellington is always right.”

The Milky Way stretched across the night sky, and the lake held its reflection. Scattered light across black

water.

The puppy woke and nuzzled my palm.

I scratched behind its ears. “Come on. Long day tomorrow.’

Reid packed up the camera and opened the passenger door for me.

The wind swept across the open land, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, it didn’t feel like something I had to brace against.

I climbed in with the puppy tucked against my chest. The headlights cut on, and the road opened up ahead of me.