Claire stood in the pool, heart pounding, humiliated. The laughter faded as she climbed out, drenched and shivering. Her makeup streamed down her face, her once-beautiful gown now heavy and ruined. She looked at Dylan and saw not her husband, but a stranger who had ignored her clear boundary for the sake of a joke.
Then she heard her father’s voice, calm and steady. “Claire, come here, darling.”
He helped her out, wrapped her in his jacket, and looked at Dylan. His tone was quiet, but it carried absolute authority. “She’s done. And so are you.”
The reception was canceled. Guests were gently asked to leave. That night, Dylan texted her to say she was “too sensitive” and that “everyone thought it was funny.” Claire blocked his number without replying.
The next morning, Dylan showed up at her father’s office, expecting forgiveness. But Claire was there with her father, waiting. Her father explained that the marriage license had never been filed. Legally, there was no marriage. And professionally, Dylan would no longer be part of his company.
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