I Was His Future Wife, But She Was His Perfect Match

Xenia's POV: The fitting room door swung open. I assumed the shop assistant had brought in another rack of wedding gowns. But when I looked up, I froze. Summer Hayes walked in, a laptop bag hanging from her shoulder. "Xenia, something's wrong with the emergency project data. I had to come over and go through it with York." I immediately turned to York Grant, my eyes silently demanding an explanation. Today was supposed to be special. We had booked this appointment a week in advance, the day we would finally choose my wedding dress and settle every detail of the ceremony. York had cleared his entire schedule, promising to handle all the pre-wedding arrangements with me, one step at a time. So how had my best friend suddenly appeared, bringing work with her and interrupting our appointment? York's expression darkened. He turned to me, his voice filled with guilt. "Sorry, Xenia. This really is an emergency." After saying that, he moved his chair aside, making room for Summer to sit next to him and open her laptop. Summer settled into the spot naturally, as if she had done it countless times before. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and within seconds, the screen was filled with complicated merger documents and endless streams of data. "York, look at this..." And just like that, they were absorbed in work again. It had been the same since college. The two of them had been the brightest stars in the economics department, effortlessly dominating class discussions and case competitions with a perfect rhythm that seemed almost instinctive. After York founded his company, they became the dream team everyone admired, the partners who could solve any business crisis and conquer any project. There was no deal they couldn't handle. Their conversation soon became an invisible wall between us. A flood of financial terms I couldn't understand poured out between them. They exchanged ideas at a speed I couldn't follow, their thoughts moving in complete sync. Even the brief glances they shared carried an undeniable understanding. The wedding album on the table was slowly pushed aside as I moved it away. I sat between them, like a decoration that no one noticed. I tried to join the conversation once. Then twice. But every time I opened my mouth, their discussion drowned out my voice. Then, suddenly, York's phone started vibrating nonstop. Call after call came from the company headquarters. The names of senior executives flashed across the screen. A sudden merger crisis had erupted. The partner company had withdrawn at the last minute, and the entire company was waiting for York to return and fix the situation. York's brows furrowed deeply. He stood up immediately. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his arm. A small trace of hope still remained in my heart. "You promised you'd spend today with me." "Sorry, Xenia. This is an emergency." Summer gently moved my hand away, her voice soft and polite. "Then let me come with you, York. I can help organize the basic files. Even if I can't do much, I can still help. Xenia, this project involves the core parts of the merger. You've never worked on this kind of process before. You might accidentally disrupt our progress." York patted my head, his voice warm and comforting. "Summer is right. This matter is extremely urgent. We can't afford any mistakes. Once the project is finished, I'll come back and go through all the wedding arrangements with you. I promise it won't take long. Be good and go home, okay?" He grabbed his jacket, and Summer quickly followed beside him as they left the bridal shop and headed straight back to the company. The shop assistant noticed I was alone and carefully approached me. "Would you still like to continue trying on dresses?" I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. "I'm sorry. Something urgent came up today. I'll skip the gown selection for now and make another appointment later." I left the bridal shop, got into my car, and drove back to the penthouse York and I had prepared as our future home. I curled up on the sofa and waited for him from noon until sunset. The entire afternoon, my phone stayed completely silent. No calls. No messages. Unable to calm my anxiety, I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to York's company. The door to the CEO's office was slightly open. Laughter and conversation drifted into the hallway, clear enough for me to hear every word. My footsteps stopped. I stood frozen outside the door. "This merger crisis was solved so smoothly because Mr. Grant and Ms. Hayes complement each other perfectly. You two really are the perfect match in the finance world!" The praise from inside cut through the doorway. "Xenia just can't keep up with you two. She has no understanding of the company's core business. She only stays by Mr. Grant's side because she's his fiancée, and it slows down real work." "Honestly, Xenia and Mr. Grant don't even look like they belong together. A wife should be someone like Director Hayes, don't you think?" My fingers curled tightly into fists. Anger burned inside me, but I forced myself to keep listening. Summer's voice soon followed, gentle and graceful. "Oh, stop saying that. Xenia is just... simple and kind. She's a good person. She just isn't suited for finance. Our ways of working are completely different." Inside the office, the laughter continued. Everyone surrounded York and Summer with praise, celebrating their flawless teamwork. A sharp ache spread through my chest. The obsession I had held onto for years began to c***k, piece by piece. Everyone believed I truly loved economics. They thought I had willingly buried myself in endless reports and numbers. But only I knew the truth. When I chose finance on my college application, it was never because it was my dream. Back then, when we were choosing our majors, York held my hands and looked at me with shining eyes. "Xenia, study finance with me. We'll work hard together and never be apart." At that time, I loved him so much that I forced myself to enter a field that left me completely exhausted. Numbers were never my passion. My heart belonged to the rough texture of a brush, the vivid colors spreading across a canvas, and the freedom of painting that allowed me to release every emotion I had buried inside. For years, I had chased after York's footsteps. I had buried my own dreams, abandoned my own preferences, and reshaped myself into someone who could stand beside him. But after all that effort, I was still the outsider, someone who had never truly belonged in his world.