I Married His Rival at fiancé Wedding

A deliberate jab.

In an instant the two of us were braced for a fight.

Peter watched me with that half-smile of his, and right in front of me he slid an arm around Gayle's shoulders and went back to their little game.

Gayle put on a pitiful, wounded act, cutting her eyes at me while she tattled to Peter.

"Peter, look! Look what she did to me. My whole face is swollen. How am I supposed to show up at your wedding tomorrow? It looks awful."

"It's fine, your face looks good no matter what. Tomorrow I'll have her makeup artist do yours too."

"All right then, I want to be a bridesmaid. And I want a gown."

"Done."

The two of them clicked right away, as if I didn't exist.

As if tomorrow were their wedding.

Peter even stepped closer to ask me for the ring, testing my limits again.

"You won't give me the ring? I need it at the wedding tomorrow."

I snapped at him, ready to tear the two of them apart.

"Get out of my face!"

"Maureen, what are you throwing a fit about now! Aren't you afraid I'll tell Grandpa again? I already told you, Grandpa's getting old, he can't take the stress. You should listen to him and go through with the wedding so he can rest easy."

I don't know what goes on in Grandpa's head.

Someone once owed a life, so I have to marry Peter to pay it off?

And over the years we've handed the James family plenty of money. They're like a bottomless pit, guilt-tripping us at every turn, coming back thick-skinned to bring up that old debt whenever they hit trouble, deliberately keeping my grandfather feeling indebted.

This time was worse. Now they wanted me to marry Peter.

Never mind whether Peter loves me. Just look at whatever tangled thing he has with Gayle. Marrying him would mean a lifetime of swallowing my anger. How was I supposed to stand that?

Seeing me go quiet, Peter kept fanning the flames.

"Maureen, everyone always said you're the most devoted to Grandpa. How can you not do what he says? If you upset him into some illness, that's a huge sin on you."

"If you don't apologize to Gayle and hand me the ring, I'll go tell Grandpa. That slap you gave Gayle, I'll get that back too. And if Grandpa's health takes a bad turn because you upset him, don't come to me!"

Gayle perked up at that, straightening her spine.

She gazed at Peter, adoring, like he was the picture of manhood.

But Peter didn't know me well enough.

Push me gently and I'll bend. Come at me hard and I'll never give an inch. The harder he pressed, the less I would yield.

"Fine."

I smiled coldly. I already had my plan.

"You just wait for tomorrow. I'll give the ring to Gayle at the wedding as an apology gift, and I'll apologize to her in front of all our family and friends. How's that?"

"Sounds like a good idea! Oh, right, I heard you had a reception dress made, the one covered in tiny diamonds? Give it to Gayle to wear. She's short one gown anyway."

"No problem. It's all yours."

Peter blinked, thrown that I'd agreed so readily, but he didn't dig into it. He just assumed I was scared of setting Grandpa off, and happily took the offer.

"Now that's more like it, Maureen. If you keep this attitude up, you'll fit right into my circle in no time. Everyone will like you."

As if I wanted anyone in that crowd to like me.

After that the whole table kept ordering, the pricier the better, all of it silently charged to me, fleecing me like a sucker.

I smiled and let them order whatever they wanted, and afraid it wasn't enough, I brought in two hype crews to liven things up for them.

While they were having their fun, I took out my phone and sent a message.

"Want to get married tomorrow? I'm short a groom."

The reply came instantly, one word, decisive and clean.

"Yes."

"Good. Tomorrow we marry, and do me a favor while you're at it."

"Sure."

He wasn't one for words, but he moved faster than most. Half an hour later he'd taken care of everything for me.

Seeing Peter and the others so caught up in their fun, I deliberately left one phone case behind and slipped away under the excuse of the restroom.

A dozen minutes later, Peter called me like a man gone mad.