After 999 Nights, He Said We Were Never Together Chapter 10

After 999 Nights, He Said We Were Never Together Chapter 10

It was nearly midnight when Ryan finally came home.

He tossed his jacket onto the sofa and looked around the empty living room. Yawning, he asked a

housekeeper,

“Why did everyone keep calling me yesterday?”

The woman was cleaning and answered respectfully.

“Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood invited the Whitfields over for lunch. Yesterday, they…”

Ryan still hadn’t gotten over his anger. The moment he heard the Whitfield name, impatience cut her off.

“Enough. From now on, I don’t need updates about that family.”

Then he went upstairs to bed.

By the time he woke, it was noon the next day.

Richard and Grace were having lunch when he came downstairs. Grace waved him over.

“Ryan, call Sophie and ask whether they arrived…”

He sat at the table and refused without interest.

“I’m going to inspect the wedding venue. I don’t have time.”

Grace didn’t press him. She placed a video call herself.

The moment it connected, Isabelle called Ryan too.

A gentle smile appeared on his face as he put in his earbuds.

“You’re up this early? I’ll come get you, and we can have breakfast together.”

As he stood and walked past Grace, he glanced at her screen.

Sophie smiled faintly from what looked like a hotel room.

Why wasn’t she home at this hour?

Suspicion stirred inside him. He was about to ask when Isabelle began choosing breakfast.

“I want crab pasta. Come over, and we’ll go together.”

Ryan didn’t linger. He picked up his jacket in the entryway and vaguely heard the conversation from the living

room.

“Sophie, did you make it? What’s the weather like there?”

Make it where?

Had the Whitfields gone on vacation?

It was the only explanation Ryan could think of.

He didn’t give it much thought and hurried out.

For the next month, Ryan remained consumed by wedding preparations. He left early every morning and

returned late at night.

Time softened his anger.

Eventually, he decided to let go of what happened at the bar. As long as Sophie came to him, apologized, and

admitted she had been wrong, he would pretend the whole thing had never happened.

But Sophie had vanished without a trace.

Ryan wasn’t worried.

No matter where she had gone, the Whitfields would attend his wedding because of the families’ long

friendship.

Even if Sophie refused, her parents would make her come.

He felt certain of it. He could already picture them reconciling, and he had even planned how he would graciously allow her to end the cold war without losing face.

Yet on the night before the wedding, he drove past the Whitfield house and found the entire villa dark.

He pulled over and rang the bell.

No one answered, no matter how long he waited.

Looking at the black windows, Ryan felt an inexplicable thread of panic.

He took out his phone and opened his conversation with Sophie.

The latest message was still the invitation he had sent for his birthday.

He typed a line.

[Just so you know, my wedding is tomorrow.]

His finger hovered over Send for a long time.

In the end, he deleted the message.

Between him and Sophie, he had always been the one who decided everything.

He refused to be the first to lower his head.

Still, he remained restless all night and barely slept.

By three or four in the morning, he was already awake and preparing for the ceremony.

After the formal photographs and family traditions were finished, he escorted Isabelle to the wedding venue.

He had entered the hotel countless times during the preparations, always filled with joy that his long-awaited

wish was about to come true.

But today, as he looked at the dreamlike, romantic ballroom, Ryan felt strangely dazed.

Was he truly getting married?

Was he really going to make Isabelle Monroe his wife?

The moment he had dreamed of for years was finally within reach.

Yet he no longer felt as certain as he once had.