A Love Worth Saying 'I Do'

Kendall's POV

Astrid greeted me with a shy smile, holding something up for me to see. “I’m here to return something to Marc. He accidentally left it at my place last night.”

Her tone was soft, almost innocent, but the object in her hand hit me like a slap in the face. My stomach turned as I realized what it was—a pair of men’s underwear.

Not just any pair. It was Marc’s, the one I’d picked out for him.

“Astrid, what are you doing here?” Marc asked.

But as soon as he saw what she was holding, he swooped in and snatched the underwear from her grasp. Then, he balled it up and shoved it into his pocket.

“Kendall, don’t overthink this,” he stammered, his face pale with panic. “Yes, I went to Astrid’s last night, but I only slept in the guest room. I must’ve left these there while I was changing clothes.”

Meanwhile, Astrid, standing off to the side, nodded, her eyes misty and her expression full of guilt. “Kendall, please don’t misunderstand Marc. I’m so sorry for ruining your wedding—I just got emotional seeing him get married and acted impulsively.”

Her excuse was as flimsy as it was predictable.

Glancing at the red marks on Marc’s neck, I suppressed a bitter laugh and turned away. "It's fine," I replied, my voice cold but steady.

But Marc frowned, clearly unconvinced by my indifference. He opened his mouth to say something, but Astrid, ever the drama queen, suddenly clutched his arm.

“Marc,” she murmured weakly, holding her head and swaying slightly. “I feel… dizzy.”

Concern instantly replaced whatever guilt Marc might’ve felt as he panickedly asked, “Astrid, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like I can’t stand steadily,” Astrid whispered then her knees buckled as she fell into his arms.

With barely a second’s hesitation, Marc scooped her up like a knight saving his damsel in distress. His eyes, full of worry, were locked on her pale face as he said, “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“But…” Astrid’s gaze darted to me, the faintest hint of triumph flickering in her eyes. She forced a small, hesitant smile. “I don’t want to ruin your relationship with Kendall again. Won’t get jealous if you do that?"

Marc barely spared me a glance as he dismissed her concerns. “Don’t worry about her. You’re not feeling well, so I’m taking you to the hospital. She’ll be fine. She’ll just wait for me to marry her.”

With that, as if certain I wouldn’t mind, he strode out of the house with Astrid in his arms, not even sparing me a backward glance.

The moment the door slammed shut, I let out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, but not from sadness—it was anger, a burning determination to be done with him.

I grabbed my suitcase and started packing. Every piece of clothing, every memory of our life together, went into the bag without a second thought. When I was done, I pulled out my phone and made the call.

“Hey,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m packed. Can you pick me up?”

Dudley’s cheerful voice came through instantly. “Of course! Be there in a flash.”

When he arrived, I handed him my suitcase, taking one last glance at the house Marc and I had shared for years. I expected regret, maybe some lingering attachment, but there was nothing.

With a deep breath, I turned my back on the house—and Marc—for good.

The next day, social media exploded with news of the upcoming alliance between the Matthews and Stokes families. Later, my phone buzzed relentlessly with calls and messages from Marc, but I ignored them all.