The morning sun blazed mercilessly through the hotel curtains, dragging Sophie from the clutches of restless sleep. Her head throbbed, and the room spun faintly as she opened her eyes. A deep breath only sharpened her awareness of the foreignness of her surroundings—the hotel room, the oversized bed, the faint smell of cologne.
And then she felt it. The weight on her left hand.
Her heart pounded as she brought her hand up, staring at the thin gold band encircling her finger. The events of the previous night hit her like a crashing wave. The club. Ethan. The chapel.
"Oh no," she whispered, her voice cracking.
She sat up abruptly, the sheet slipping down her shoulders as she glanced around the room. It was then she saw him, sprawled across the armchair in the corner, one leg draped lazily over the side, his eyes closed but his chest rising and falling steadily.
Sophie's stomach churned. Ethan was still here, his presence solidifying the horrifying truth—this wasn't a dream, and last night hadn't been some ridiculous hallucination.
The sound of her sharp intake of breath must have stirred him, because his eyes fluttered open. They landed on her, and he gave her a slow, lazy smile.
"Morning, Mrs. Harper," he said, his voice rough from sleep.
"Don't call me that," Sophie snapped, pulling the sheet tighter around herself.
Ethan's smile widened as he leaned back further, looking infuriatingly at ease. "Technically, it's accurate."
Her jaw tightened. "This isn't funny, Ethan. I don't know what I was thinking—"
"I think you were thinking about having fun," he interrupted smoothly.
Sophie glared at him. "Well, the fun is over. This... whatever this is... needs to be undone. Immediately."
Ethan shrugged, clearly unfazed. "It's Vegas. People get married and regret it all the time. I'm sure there's a process for this sort of thing."
"There is," Sophie said firmly. "It's called an annulment, and it's happening today."
Ethan stood, stretching in a way that made her acutely aware of how comfortable he seemed in the chaos. He picked up a glass of water from the nightstand and took a sip before replying. "You might want to hold off on that until you check the paperwork."
"What paperwork?" Sophie asked, her stomach dropping.
"The marriage certificate," Ethan said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We signed it, remember?"
Her pulse quickened. "And?"
"And," Ethan continued, his tone annoyingly casual, "there's this little clause in Nevada law. If the marriage was consummated—"
"Don't," Sophie interrupted, her cheeks flushing.
Ethan smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I was just going to say it makes annulment slightly more complicated."
Her head spun. Complicated wasn't a word she could afford right now. "This can't be happening," she muttered, gripping her temples.
"It's happening," Ethan said, his tone gentler now. "But it's not the end of the world."
She looked up at him, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing in her eyes. "Not the end of the world? I'm supposed to be getting married in three days, Ethan. To someone else."
His expression darkened. "Sounds like you're already married."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't a joke."
Sophie dressed quickly, her movements jerky and frantic as she gathered her things. Ethan watched her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, the picture of unbothered calm.
"I have to go," she said finally, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"Do you even have a plan?" Ethan asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
"Of course I do," she lied, brushing past him.
He caught her wrist gently, stopping her in her tracks. "Sophie."
The way he said her name—low and steady—made her pause. She turned to face him, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, the weight of his gaze was enough to quiet the storm in her head.
"This is going to follow you," he said softly. "You can't just pretend it didn't happen."
"Watch me," she replied, her voice sharper than she intended. She pulled her wrist free and left without looking back.
The airport was a blur of noise and movement, but Sophie moved through it on autopilot, her thoughts stuck on Ethan's parting words. She boarded the plane and sank into her seat, her fingers clutching her phone like a lifeline. Her friends chatted animatedly beside her, oblivious to the turmoil roiling inside her.
By the time they landed, Sophie had convinced herself she could fix this. She would contact a lawyer, have the marriage annulled, and no one would ever have to know. It would be as though Ethan Harper had never existed.
But as she walked into her apartment, her resolve faltered. Her phone buzzed with a reminder about the wedding rehearsal the next day, and the sight of Daniel's name on her screen sent a wave of guilt crashing over her.
She dropped her bag on the couch and sat down, her head in her hands.
What have I done?
The rehearsal went smoothly, as far as everyone else was concerned. Sophie smiled when expected, nodded at the right moments, and avoided making eye contact with Daniel for longer than a few seconds. But inside, she was a mess.
It wasn't until dinner that her carefully constructed facade began to crack.
Daniel was talking about the seating arrangements, his tone as measured and controlled as always, when his mother interrupted.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Sophie," Charlotte Harper said, her sharp eyes narrowing on her future daughter-in-law.
Sophie forced a smile. "Just tired. It's been a long week."
Charlotte's lips thinned, but she didn't press further. Daniel, however, reached for Sophie's hand under the table, his touch light but possessive.
"You're sure everything's okay?" he asked quietly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"Of course," Sophie lied, her chest tightening.
Later that night, back in her apartment, Sophie stared at the gold ring still on her finger. She had meant to take it off earlier, but every time she tried, something stopped her. Now, as she sat alone in the silence of her living room, it felt like the weight of the entire situation was concentrated in that one tiny band.
Her phone buzzed on the table, jolting her from her thoughts. She picked it up, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Ethan's name on the screen.
Miss me yet?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, torn between anger and something else she couldn't quite name. Finally, she typed back:
This never happened.
The response came almost instantly:
Too late for that, Mrs. Harper.
Sophie stared at the screen, her chest tightening as her pulse quickened. She set the phone down, her hands trembling slightly.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence, each second a reminder that the web of lies she was weaving was growing more tangled by the minute.
Somehow, she knew Ethan was right. She couldn't pretend this hadn't happened. Not when the consequences were already closing in.
Her phone buzzed again, but this time she didn't look. Instead, she leaned back against the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as the weight of her reckless decision threatened to pull her under.