Leaving a Cheating Fiancé

The marble floors of the city registry office gleamed under fluorescent lights as I approached the reception desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. Ten years. Ten years of waiting, planning, dreaming of this moment when Hudson and I would finally make it official.

"I'm here for the Bishop-Riley appointment," I told the clerk, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands.

The woman's fingers clicked across her keyboard, her brow furrowing. "I'm sorry, miss, but I show a divorce consultation appointment under those names, not a marriage registration."

The world tilted. "That's impossible. We scheduled this months ago."

She turned her monitor toward me, and there it was—our appointment slot, changed from marriage registration to divorce filing consultation. My eyes locked onto the signature at the bottom of the change request form: *Fallon Davis*.

Ninety-nine times. This was the ninety-ninth time that woman had sabotaged our wedding plans with her "innocent mistakes."

I gripped the counter's edge, my knuckles white. "When was this change made?"

"Yesterday afternoon, miss. The request came through the groom's office."

Yesterday. While I'd been picking up my dress for the ceremony photos we'd planned to take after signing the papers. While I'd been texting Hudson about dinner reservations to celebrate. While I'd been living in a fool's paradise, believing this time would be different.

The drive to Hudson's office passed in a blur of rage and disbelief. My hands shook as I stabbed the elevator button, each floor that passed only stoking the fire burning in my chest. The familiar ding of the thirty-second floor felt like a death knell.

Hudson's assistant looked up in surprise as I stormed past her desk. "Miss Riley, Mr. Bishop is in a meeting—"

"Not anymore."

I threw open his office door without knocking. Hudson sat behind his mahogany desk, his dark head bent toward Fallon, who perched on the edge of his desk in a way that was far too intimate for any professional relationship. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned closer to him, pointing at something on his laptop screen.

"Elliot." Hudson's voice carried surprise and something that might have been annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" My voice cracked with fury. "I just came from the registry office, Hudson. Care to explain why our marriage appointment has been changed to a divorce consultation?"

Fallon straightened, her blue eyes widening with practiced innocence. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I must have clicked the wrong option when I was updating the calendar. These computer systems are so confusing."

The same excuse. Always the same excuse, delivered with that breathy, helpless tone that made men want to rescue her.

"Ninety-nine times, Fallon." I stepped closer to Hudson's desk, my voice deadly quiet. "Ninety-nine times you've made this exact same mistake. What are the odds?"

Hudson stood, his jaw tightening. "Elliot, you're being unreasonable. Fallon's been dealing with her mother's illness, and she's been distracted. These things happen."