Waiting for the Right One

Jonah didn't even hesitate. He pulled out his phone and called his assistant, instructing him to send someone over to keep an eye on me, making sure I wouldn't "cause trouble."

Then, after glancing at the time, he hurried off with Nadia to the City Hall.

As the elevator doors slid shut, I caught the fleeting smugness in Nadia's eyes—the subtle arch of her brow, the slight tilt of her lips. A silent taunt.

And then, Jonah's voice drifted through just before the doors fully closed.

"Nadia, did you bring your ID?"

It was never about her mother. This whole show was just for me.

Before the bodyguards Jonah arranged could arrive, I grabbed my keys and left. I had something more important to do.

The bridal shop was quiet when I arrived. The familiar scent of fresh flowers and delicate fabrics filled the air, but something felt off. The shop owner, usually warm and welcoming, looked startled to see me.

"Miss Arabelle... you're here?"

I nodded. "I came to pick up my wedding dress."

At that, the owner's face twisted in hesitation. "Oh... Mr. Jonah already picked it up a few days ago."

A cold prickle ran down my spine. "What?"

"He even brought a woman to try it on," the owner added, voice dropping. "I wasn't in the shop at the time, but..."

My expression must have darkened because he immediately turned to the computer.

"Let me pull up the surveillance footage."

On the screen, Nadia stood in front of the mirror, draped in my wedding dress. The ivory silk cascaded down her body, hugging her figure perfectly. She took slow, deliberate steps toward Jonah, who stood frozen, staring at her like she was the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen.

"Jonah, do I look good?"

Jonah's lips parted slightly. Then, a smile broke across his face.

"You're beautiful," he breathed. "Even more stunning than I pictured in my dreams."

Nadia bit her lip, her eyes misting over. "Jonah... pinch me. I need to know if this is real. All this time, I've only been able to picture us like this in my dreams..."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Jonah, visibly distressed, bent down and brushed his lips against her skin, kissing the tear away.

"Silly girl," he murmured. "It's a good thing you showed up. Or I might have found someone else to marry..."

The owner, standing beside me, looked beyond uncomfortable.

"Miss Arabelle, I—I'm so sorry. This was a mistake by my staff... I'll find an excuse to get the dress back for you."

I let out a slow breath. There was no mistake.

Everyone could see it—I had been played for a fool. Cheated on. And my wedding dress had been stolen right from under me.

The owner, fuming on my behalf, immediately dialed Jonah.

The call barely rang before Jonah's sharp voice came through.

"Did Arabelle ask you to get the dress back? Tell her it'll be returned once we're done with it—no one is stealing from her!"

Shameless. Absolutely shameless.

I didn't even want him anymore. Why would I want a dress Nadia had already worn?

The owner, holding the abruptly disconnected phone, looked at me, visibly mortified. "Miss Arabelle, I... I can compensate you—"

But I wasn't interested in compensation. I knew exactly who should pay for this.

Without hesitation, I sent Jonah a screenshot of the original wedding dress order, complete with the price.

Not even a minute later, my phone rang.

Jonah's voice was laced with irritation. "Arabelle, what do you mean? Just borrowing your dress and you're asking me for money? Shouldn't you be grateful it's getting extra wear?"

I almost laughed.

Yet, the moment Nadia's voice cooed in the background—"Jonah, I want to keep it as a keepsake..."—the line went silent.

Then, a notification popped up on my screen.

[Bank Transfer Received.]

And a second later, Jonah's text followed, [When we get married, just rent a dress from the shop. No need to waste money.]

I stared at the message. Six years together and for the first time, I realized—I never truly knew Jonah.

My gaze flicked to the location tracker in our couple's app. He was still at the City Hall.

I thought it would hurt. But I felt nothing at all.

With a quiet exhale, I disabled our shared location.

Just then, the arrival of Jonah's assistant, Zane, broke the silence. Two bodyguards trailed behind him.

Zane, who had once greeted me with warmth and respect, now looked at me with undisguised contempt. His tone remained polite, but it carried a distant coldness.

"Miss Arabelle, as long as you refrain from causing any problems, we won't interfere with where you go."

A warning.

I couldn't be bothered with fair-weather lackeys. Without another word, I drove straight to my office and resigned from my job.

But when I finally returned home, something else was waiting for me.

At the parking garage, my car slowed as the automatic gate failed to lift. I rolled down my window. The security guard checked the system, his brows furrowing.

"Apologies, Miss. Your usual parking spot is now registered to another car."