My Fiancé Skipped Our Engagement Party

Matthew Spencer, who had stayed silent until that moment, stepped between Marshall Ross and Norah Fisher.

"Marshall, this is between Norah and Lionel. Stay out of it."

Marshall opened his mouth, but Norah cut him off. "Matthew, I've got this."

Matthew frowned, worried. He knew Marshall could be a real piece of work.

Even so, Norah gently nudged Matthew aside and walked straight up to Marshall.

"Norah Fisher, apologize to Vivienne right now, and we'll pretend this never happened," Marshall demanded, all swagger and no clue who he was dealing with.

Norah knew exactly how little respect Marshall had for her.

Across the room, Elia Dean pushed, "Lionel, say something."

"Norah should apologize to Vivienne," Lionel said coldly, as if she had embarrassed him.

To him, Norah was just making a scene at the hospital, showing up only to stir up trouble.

With Lionel backing him, Marshall got even bolder. "Norah, get on your knees and apologize to Vivienne, and we'll let it slide."

Norah smirked, stepping close enough to rest her hand on Marshall's shoulder.

"Norah, what are you doing?" he asked. Before he could react, Norah delivered a swift, brutal kick to his groin.

She didn't hold back. Not even a little.

Marshall crumpled to the floor, groaning in agony.

Norah stood over him, completely unfazed, and landed another solid kick. "Marshall, didn't your cousin tell you I know self-defense?"

Matthew winced on Marshall's behalf, realizing his earlier worry had been misplaced.

"Marshall Ross, I tolerated you out of respect for Lionel. Now that Lionel and I are done, do you really think I'm going to stand here and let you disrespect me?"

Norah shifted her glare to Lionel.

"And you, Lionel. We're over. Stop talking to me like you have some kind of authority over me. You don't."

Lionel's expression flickered, anger bleeding into something that looked a lot like regret—worse, somehow, than any bruise.

"Norah Fisher, if you bring up breaking up one more time, we're done for good," Lionel warned.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Norah scoffed.

She turned to Elia. "Let's catch up another time. I'm leaving."

Elia nodded. "Okay."

Norah walked away without a backward glance, each step echoing with quiet resolve.

Lionel watched her go, a flicker of panic racing through him. It was a feeling he'd never had with her before, but it had been building, growing sharper after everything that had happened.

Matthew walked over to Lionel and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Lionel, you know Norah better than that. You really crossed a line."

"She attacked someone, and you're taking her side?" Lionel snapped.

To Lionel, Norah was just some spoiled girl throwing a tantrum.

Elia tugged Matthew away. "He's blind and heartless. Why waste your breath?"

People like him wouldn't listen anyway.

Ending things with Lionel was the right call for Norah.

Matthew sighed and followed Elia back inside.

"Lionel, don't be mad at Norah. If she's upset with anyone, it should be me for ruining your engagement," Vivienne Powell said, every inch the picture of innocence, her voice trembling with fake tears.

Marshall, still seething, added, "Bro, Norah's taking advantage of your feelings. She's out of control. If you don't put her in her place now, who knows what kind of chaos she'll cause once she marries into this family?"

"Shut up. She's your sister-in-law. Even if she's wrong, it's not your place to run your mouth," Lionel shot back.

Still, Norah's behavior genuinely irritated him.

Suddenly, Vivienne gasped, clutching her stomach.

"Vivienne, what's wrong?" Lionel rushed to her side as she let out a pained groan.

"It's my stomach... I must've hurt it when I fell," she said, wincing with far too much drama.

"Marshall, get a doctor," Lionel ordered, scooping Vivienne up and carrying her into the hospital room.

***

Outside the clinic, Norah took a deep breath, feeling unexpectedly light.

Breaking up with Lionel wasn't as hard as she'd imagined. She felt free—free to be herself, no strings attached.

She'd planned to head straight to the office, but she realized she'd left her phone behind in her rush and needed to grab it before dealing with the fallout of the breakup.

When she got home, Norah was surprised to find Jamie Olson still there. "You haven't left yet?"

"Are you trying to kick me out?" Jamie asked, feigning a wounded look.

Norah panicked a little. "No, that's not what I meant."

For some reason, the hurt flicker on Jamie's face tugged at her heart.

"I saw you rush out without your phone. I was worried and couldn't reach you, so I decided to wait."

She had, in fact, left in a hurry that morning.

"I went to the clinic. My best friend was in a car accident, and I went to see her."

Norah felt the need to explain—maybe because of the sincerity in Jamie's eyes, or because she didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

But what wrong idea was there to get?

Jamie's eyes brightened at her words. "Is she okay?"

"Just a few scrapes."

Thinking back to the night before, Norah asked hesitantly, "Jamie, I drank a lot yesterday. Did I... say anything stupid?"

"You were quiet. You fell asleep at the table," Jamie said earnestly.

Could that really be true?

Norah wasn't so sure. She'd been told before that she got chatty when she drank—once she'd even announced her feelings for Lionel in public.

But those days—when Lionel was still crazy about her—were long gone.

Love—or the lack of it—was painfully obvious now.

Still doubtful, Norah studied Jamie's honest face and decided to take his word for it.

"Have you eaten? Let me make you something."

"Okay." Norah didn't argue. She was hungry.

As she watched Jamie move around the kitchen, she couldn't help but say, "Jamie, with your cooking and the way you take care of people, any woman who married you would be really lucky."

She hadn't known him long, but Jamie seemed kind and considerate—a good man to have in her corner.

"Then why don't you marry me?" Jamie asked as he set a tray of food in front of her, his eyes completely serious, not a single trace of teasing in them.