After My Groom Fell for My Roommate, I Married Another

The Manhattan skyline glittered like a jewelry box from the rooftop terrace of The Peninsula, a constellation of lights that had always made me feel on top of the world. Tonight, though, those same lights felt like they were watching me—witnessing my complete and utter humiliation.

I stood frozen near the champagne tower, my fingers still wrapped around the stem of a flute I hadn't touched in twenty minutes. The silk of my Marchesa gown felt suddenly suffocating, each delicate crystal bead a reminder of how perfectly I'd planned this night. How perfectly I'd planned my entire life.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dalton's voice carried across the terrace through the speakers, and I turned toward him with a smile that felt like glass about to shatter. He looked handsome in his tuxedo, the same way he'd looked handsome since we were sixteen—familiar, safe, the future I'd never questioned. "I have an announcement to make."

My heart skipped with anticipation. This was supposed to be our moment—the official announcement of our wedding date, the crowning achievement of our childhood romance. I lifted my champagne slightly, ready to toast to our future.

"I can't do this," Dalton said, and the words hit me like ice water. "I can't go through with this engagement. I'm sorry, Noelle. I'm in love with someone else."

The crowd's collective gasp was audible. My mother's hand flew to her mouth. My father's face turned the color of his scotch. And I—I just stood there, my smile still fixed in place, as if my face had forgotten how to process what my ears had just heard.

"Carly," Dalton's voice softened as he turned toward the crowd. "Come here."

My roommate Carly Jacobs stepped forward from the shadows, her face a perfect mask of tearful surprise. She wore a white dress that looked suspiciously like a bridesmaid's gown, though we hadn't even picked those yet. Her eyes were wide, her hand trembling as Dalton took it.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," she whispered, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "But I love him too."

The room exploded in whispers. Phones appeared everywhere, camera flashes popping like lightning. I watched in detached horror as people I'd known my entire life turned their phones toward me, capturing my reaction for their social media feeds. #NoelleFosterBecomesSingle was probably trending already.

"Noelle," my mother appeared at my elbow, her voice tight with fury and concern. "Let's get you out of here."

But I couldn't move. I was rooted to the spot, watching as Carly—my roommate, my confidante, the girl I'd helped navigate Columbia's social scene—let Dalton kiss her hand. The same hands that had held mine while we cried over exams, that had helped me choose this very dress for tonight.

The champagne tower seemed to waver in my vision. The lights of Manhattan blurred into streaks of gold and white. And somewhere in the chaos of my mind, I heard the unmistakable sound of my perfect life shattering into a