Stranded For His Fake Sister

My fiancé kicked me out of his car on a deserted highway because his "sister" Krystle claimed her car had broken down.

He drove off with her and her daughter, leaving me stranded in the scorching heat without a backward glance.

While I trudged for miles through the dust, Krystle posted a video of him at the gala, captioning it "My Hero" as they laughed together under the fireworks.

I realized then that I was never his partner, just a placeholder he could discard the moment Krystle snapped her fingers.

I didn't cry, and I didn't call him to beg for an explanation.

Instead, I returned to our shared penthouse and took a pair of heavy tailoring shears to my custom wedding dress.

I shredded the delicate lace until it was nothing but a pile of ruined scraps on the floor, destroying the future we were supposed to have.

Then I blocked his number, packed my life into a single suitcase, and vanished.

By the time he realized Krystle had staged the breakdown to destroy us, I was already gone.

Three years later, he found me again-but I wasn't the same woman he left on the side of the road.

Chapter 1

Kattie's POV:

The familiar dread settled deep in my stomach, a cold, heavy stone. It always happened before these family galas. Three hours of driving, three hours of feigning happiness, three hours of pretending I belonged.

Colton hummed beside me, his hand resting casually on my knee. He always tried to ease my tension, but even his touch felt like a hollow comfort today. He saw the surface, never the churning beneath.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. A quick glance at the screen. Krystle. My heart sank a little lower.

"Hey, princess," he answered, his voice softening instantly. "What's up?"

A pause. Then his brow furrowed. "Broken down? Where are you?"

He listened, his gaze darting to the rearview mirror. "On the highway? Nearby? Okay, okay, don't worry. We're on our way."

He hung up, turning to me. "Krystle's car broke down a few miles back. We have to pick her up."

I just nodded. What else was there to do? This was our life. My life.

Twenty minutes later, we spotted her. She stood by a sleek black SUV, hazard lights flashing. Even stranded on a dusty highway, Krystle looked picture-perfect.

Her white dress seemed to shimmer in the harsh afternoon sun. It was far too elegant for a breakdown, far too elaborate for a simple car trouble. It was the dress she'd been talking about for weeks, the one that would "make a statement" at the gala. It practically screamed: "Upstage Kattie."

As we pulled over, Krystle flashed a dazzling, teary smile. "Oh, Colton, thank goodness! I thought I'd be stuck here forever."

She walked towards the car, her movements fluid and practiced. Every step was a performance.

"Kattie, darling," she cooed, leaning in to give me a quick, airless hug through the open window. "I'm so, so sorry to inconvenience you both."

Her eyes, however, held a glint of something else. Something sharp and victorious.

I knew that glint. I' d seen it a million times since I was found and brought back to the Knowles family. It meant Krystle had won. Again.

"No problem, Krystle," I managed, my voice flat. My words tasted like ash.

Colton was already out of the car, opening the back door for Krystle and her daughter, Lily. Lily, a sweet six-year-old, clutched a sparkly doll. Her eyes were wide and a little scared.

"Come on in, girls," Colton said, his concern genuine. He always fell for Krystle' s act. Always.

He helped Lily into the backseat. But there was a problem. Two problems, actually.

Colton' s frat brothers, Brett and Mark, had invited themselves along for the ride. They were sprawled across the back, laughing at some internal joke, their feet on the empty seats.

"Hey, guys, can you move forward a bit?" Colton asked, his tone a little strained. "Krystle and Lily need to sit."

Brett, a burly guy with a perpetually amused smirk, barely shifted. "Nah, man. We're comfy. Plus, Lily needs space for her princess stuff, right?" He winked at Lily.

Mark just grunted, eyes still glued to his phone.

Krystle's lower lip began to tremble. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Oh, it's fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can just... I can call another ride. Maybe a taxi will pass by."

Her gaze drifted dramatically down the empty highway. It was a three-hour drive from civilization. She knew perfectly well no taxi would "pass by."

Colton' s jaw tightened. He hated seeing Krystle upset. He hated conflict, especially when Krystle was the supposed victim.

"No, Krystle, of course not," he said, his voice firm. He turned to me. "Kattie, honey, you're so understanding. You don't mind, do you?"

My breath hitched. The question wasn' t really a question. It was a command. A dismissal.

My brain screamed. No, I mind. I mind everything. But my mouth stayed shut. It always did.

Colton' s eyes, usually so warm, were pleading. "Just for a little while," he added, as if that made a difference. "Just wait here. I'll send an Uber for you."

He knew there was no cell service out here. I knew it. We had driven this road countless times.

I felt like I' d been punched in the gut. The air left my lungs. My entire body went cold.

"Okay," I said, the word a tiny, fragile whisper, barely audible even to myself.

I didn't resist as he opened my door. Didn't argue as he helped me out of the passenger seat. Didn't say a word as he ushered Krystle and Lily into the car, Lily now beaming, Krystle offering another saccharine smile that didn' t quite reach her eyes.

"Thanks, Kattie," Krystle said, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. Her eyes, however, were triumphant. She gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. A victory lap.

Colton didn't look at me directly when he got back in the driver's seat. He gave a quick, sideways glance, a fleeting look of guilt. Then he started the car.

He drove away. The car shrunk in the distance, a rapidly fading dot on the long, empty highway. He didn' t look back.

I stood there, alone. The sun beat down, turning the asphalt into a shimmering mirage. The heat pressed in, a suffocating blanket. The heavy silence of the desert swallowed me whole.

I was nothing. Just a placeholder. An inconvenience. Easily discarded.

Just as I always had been.