Amelia’s POV
The next few days passed in a blur of pain and paperwork. I forced myself to handle everything that needed to be done. I returned wedding gifts with polite notes saying the marriage had been cancelled. Some people replied with sympathy, others with nosy questions I ignored. I called vendors, cancelled the venue, the caterers, the photographer, and the honeymoon booking. Every call felt like I was burying my old life piece by piece.
By the afternoon of the fourth day, most things were done. I sat in my room staring at the empty boxes, feeling drained. The white wedding dress still hung in my closet like a ghost. I couldn’t bring myself to look at it.
A loud knock on the front door pulled me out of my thoughts. I heard voices downstairs—raised voices. My stomach twisted. Some
