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Hitched or Ditched? Novel Cover

Hitched or Ditched?

With only forty-eight hours until their engagement, Isabella prepares for her future with Theodore Scott. While fitting her mermaid gown, Theodore reveals a startling fixation on her feet, insisting she wear red-bottom stilettos despite her physical discomfort. His intense gaze and intimate touch as he admires her ankles leave Isabella unsettled. As he describes her graceful movements in heels, she begins to wonder why her fiancé is suddenly so knowledgeable about such specific details.
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Chapter 2

Theodore said, "It's an early engagement gift. Do you like it?"

If this had been before, I would've thrown myself into Theodore's arms and playfully scolded him for spending so much money. But now, I just felt how absurd it all was.

I replied numbly, "Yeah, it's beautiful."

He smiled and ruffled my hair. "I'll give you another gift at the wedding—something even better and more beautiful than this. You can look forward to it now."

I stared at him blankly, my heart aching unbearably. How wonderful it would be if everything I'd just discovered were fake.

...

The next day, I stood in the security room of the women's shoe store, my nails digging deep into my palms. On the screen, Theodore had his arm around Celeste's waist, leaning down to listen to her whisper.

He took the high heels she was trying on and knelt on one knee to put them on her feet. The sales associate introduced the shoes attentively while he casually took her purse and waited quietly. After buying the shoes, she stood on her tiptoes and spun in a circle, her skirt fluttering.

Theodore reached out to steady her, his gaze burning and focused.

I stared at the surveillance timestamp. That day, I'd worked in the lab until dawn, rushing to finish a project so that I could take time off for our wedding. He had texted me saying he was working late and sent a photo of a coffee cup from the law firm.

So, he had lied to me.

The sales associate whispered gossip, "This gentleman is our regular. Every time he comes, he always spends a long time shopping with that lady."

"Do you have this style in stock?" I asked, my voice chillingly calm.

The sales associate was caught off guard. "Yes, but the price..."

"Wrap them all up." I swiped my card and left with six boxes in hand.

When I got home, Theodore was in the kitchen making soup. "You're back!"

He came out of the kitchen, and his gaze fell on the pile of gift boxes by my feet. His smile instantly froze.

"What's all this?" His voice was somewhat tight.

I slowly unwrapped one of the boxes and took out those red-bottom high heels. Then, I waved them at him and said, "Pretty, aren't they? The sales associate said this is the most popular style."

His face went pale. "Why did you suddenly buy so many?"

I smiled. "Suddenly? Weren't you the one who suggested I wear them?"

He opened his mouth as if to say something but finally just lowered his head to avoid my gaze. His fingers unconsciously rubbed the edge of his soup bowl.

The silence thickened in the room.

I stood up and grabbed my jacket. "Something urgent came up at the lab. I need to go."

"Now?" He jerked his head up, panic in his eyes. "Tomorrow is our engagement party."

My tone was calm as I turned and left the house. "There's a problem with the data. I'll be pulling an all-nighter. Don't wait up."

I turned the car key, stepped on the gas, and headed to the location from Celeste's Instagram story posted 30 minutes ago. There was a boutique brand show that night.

The show lights dimmed, and the final round of applause rang out.

I stood in the corner, watching Celeste being escorted off stage, surrounded by people. She was more stunning than in photos, with auburn curls that bounced with each step. Her figure moved with effortless grace, and her eyes were truly captivating.

After the show ended, I heard the backstage staff whispering among themselves.

"Celeste seemed off today. She almost twisted her ankle during the walk."

"I heard she's been having relationship problems lately…"

I followed her up to the rooftop. In the night breeze, she leaned against the railing smoking, the cigarette's tip glowing red in the darkness.

"Ms. Starr?" I approached nervously, pretending to be starstruck. "Could I get a photo with you? I've been following you for so long."

She gave me a lazy glance, surprised. "Are you a fan?"

Then, she waved her hand. "Sure!"

After taking the photo, I looked at her. "Are you upset about something?"

Her eyes dimmed as she looked down and crushed out her cigarette. "Forget it. No one's meeting me tonight anyway, so we might as well chat… You know what? I thought he would come tonight. Men are all trash."

She tilted her head back and took a swig of alcohol. Then, she began to confide, "I met him after a show. He gave me a bouquet of white roses and said he was drawn to my energy."

"What happened after that?"

"After that?" She smirked playfully. "The second time, he took me to a private vineyard. When I got tipsy, he kissed me and said he'd never met a woman as sexy as me."

My stomach dropped. I remembered that Theodore didn't come home at all that night. He had told me he was pulling an all-nighter at the law firm, preparing a case.

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