Belle's POV

The ride home with Dave was suffocating, the silence between us thicker than the humid night air. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze, keeping mine fixed on the passing streetlights that blurred into a hazy mess. I wanted nothing more than to disappear, to escape this nightmare that I’d willingly walked into—or had been pushed into, more like it.

The evening had been a parade of fake smiles and hollow congratulations, all of it making me feel like a mannequin on display rather than a bride-to-be. My thoughts were spinning, tangled in a web of doubt and dread, when Dave...