Fiance Fled for His First Love, I Married His Brother

I played the model girlfriend to Ian James for five years.

On our wedding day, the one who got away came back.

One phone call, and he ran out on the wedding to go pick her up.

All he left me was three words:

We'll finish later!

Later?

I wasn't waiting for later. Right there, in front of everyone, I dragged his older brother up onto the platform.

"Otto James, your brother just walked out on his own wedding. As his brother, shouldn't you make it up to me?"

Later, the ceremony reached the exchange of rings.

Ian kicked open the doors and walked in with a girl in a floral white dress at his side.

In the beat while everyone stood frozen, I slid the wedding band onto my ring finger.

Then, right in front of Ian, I grabbed his brother's tie and kissed him.

1.

"Ian, I'm back. Could you... come and pick me up?"

Delia Henson's call came through just as my father was taking my hand to give it over to Ian.

The microphone carried her voice through the whole room.

The entire banquet hall went silent, like someone had hit pause. Dead quiet.

Ian didn't even notice. His face lit up with pure joy.

"Cora Quinlan, something's come up. We'll finish later!"

He threw the words back at me and was already striding toward the doors.

Christina slammed her hand on the table behind him, furious, shouting his full name.

He just waved a hand over his shoulder, not looking back.

Somebody let out a low whistle, thick with mockery.

"Weren't they the model couple? The groom takes a call from another woman and just skips his own wedding? Model couple, my foot. He's probably been cheating the whole time."

A few people laughed along.

They didn't know that the so-called model couple had only ever been built on how much I gave in.

Ian liked his fun, and he liked his image, so I never held him back.

He had the temperament of a child, so I played the patient older-sister role as best I could, coaxing him, spoiling him.

Five years together, and we never once bickered. Of course we looked like the model couple to everyone else.

"Stop laughing. Maybe young Mr. James just went to pick up a friend. He did say they'd finish later, didn't he?"

It sounded like someone stepping in to smooth things over. It was pure mockery.

Everyone in that room knew perfectly well. What was a simple airport pickup?

Send a friend, call an assistant. Anybody could do it. Why would he run off in the middle of his own wedding to do it himself?

The fact that he left could only mean one thing. He didn't care about me at all.

So whether or not Ian came back, I was destined to be the joke on everyone's lips.

"See, this is why a woman can't be too strong. Too strong, and nobody takes you seriously. They dump you on a whim, and who cares what the occasion is?"

"Tsk, tsk, poor Miss Quinlan. Abandoned in front of this many people. Who's going to want her after this?"

Bang.

Someone's chair went over and hit the floor with a crash.

The chatter stopped for a second.

Gavin Barnes, a lollipop in his mouth and both hands stuffed in his pockets, jumped up onto the platform.

"Cora, Ian doesn't want to marry you, so I will. Want to give it a shot with me?"

The moment he finished, the room burst into laughter again.

"Gavin's ruthless. Who humiliates someone like that?"

"Kicking her while she's down."

"Shut up!"

Gavin snapped, brows drawn tight.

Nobody understood why he was angry.

But he had given me a good idea.

I turned my head slightly, my gaze sliding past Gavin to land on the man in the corner, frowning into his phone.

"Otto James, your brother just walked out on his own wedding."

"As his older brother, shouldn't you make up for what I've lost?"

He lowered the phone and darkened the screen.

"How do I make up for it?"

"You. Marry me!"

"How can this be?"

"Cora, you're Ian's girlfriend!"

Christina James reacted more strongly than anyone.

And who could blame her.

In the old days, my situation had a name: one woman married off twice, and to two brothers no less.

If I had even less shame, I could stand as the older brother's wife on one hand and keep tangling with the younger on the other.

And then where would that leave the James family's face?

But Otto said, "Sure."

The cool, low voice dropped the whole banquet hall into instant silence.

Everyone thought they'd misheard.

Christina came back to herself and stared at her eldest son in disbelief.

"Otto?"

Otto met her eyes, the corner of his mouth curving up.

"Mom, Ian was in the wrong first. And you heard him just now, he cares more about another woman. Do you really think, with things like this, Mr. Quinlan would still be willing to marry his daughter to Ian?"

"But..."

Christina never expected her eldest son to cut the ground out from under his own brother.

She wanted to argue, but she knew Otto had a point.

"No buts. Unless you no longer want the partnership between the James and Quinlan families."

"If that's the case, I'll listen to you and not marry her. But if you really think that with me out of it, Miss Quinlan will have no one, you're badly mistaken."

"Look at this room full of guests. How many of them want a marriage alliance with the Quinlans? The Barnes family jumped out. You think there won't be a Warner or a Lopez right behind them?"

Christina's face went white in an instant.

She turned to me up on the stage, her smile strained.

"Cora's right. Ian did wrong by you."

"An older brother is like a father. Our Otto is actually a fine match too!"

Otto smiled.

He rose from his seat, straightened a collar that hadn't been mussed, and walked up the runway with a steady stride.

"Gavin, shouldn't you be getting back to your seat?"

Gavin's face went ashen at once.

"Otto, well done."

He stepped down off the stage with his fists clenched, each stride hard enough to stamp a hole in the runway.

Otto turned back, his gaze sweeping over the wedding photos of Ian and me behind us.

"Since this is my wedding, you won't mind if I make a few small changes to the setup?"

"Of course not."

"But don't take too long. I'd rather not wait until dark for my groom to come marry me."

The groom had already been swapped. What did it matter whether the room got changed too?

"Don't worry. I only need half an hour."

I didn't ask how he meant to change it. I turned and went back to the dressing room to touch up my makeup.

Half an hour later, I was standing behind that door again.

As the emcee launched into a fresh round of vows, the tall red doors swung slowly open.

My father took my hand and led me toward the aisle.

I scanned the hall and couldn't spot anything different.

My father was holding back a laugh, murmuring the answer to me under his breath.

"That kid spent the whole half hour editing photos."

Only then did I see it. The wedding photos that had once been Ian's and mine now all wore a different face, and they didn't look off in the slightest.

With the groom swapped out, the wedding went remarkably smoothly.

The emcee's vows rolled off more easily by the line.

After skipping any number of steps, the wedding finally reached its close.

The exchange of rings.

When Otto took out his ring, I realized he'd changed the ring too.

It wasn't the pair Ian and I had picked.

"You switched them?"

Half an hour, and he'd edited the photos and swapped the rings on top of it. Wasn't that a little fast?

"Mm. I don't use another man's rings."

As he spoke, he turned the band to show a line of small print engraved on the inside.

Only This Life.

I smiled and was just about to hold out my hand when someone kicked the banquet hall doors open.

"Cora, the lucky hour's already passed. Our wedding is postponed. Today's reception goes to Delia Henson's welcome-home dinner first."

Everyone turned toward the door, and so did I.

Ian was back, and beside him stood a slip of a girl in a white floral dress.

What a match.

One look was enough. When I turned back, I found Otto watching me, the ring still pinched between his fingers.

He was gauging my reaction.

I smiled at him, then took the initiative and slid my ring finger into the band myself.

And then, under his stunned gaze, I caught his tie, rose onto my toes, and kissed him.

The flashbulbs went off, soft and steady.

Ian's furious voice tore through the whole banquet hall.

"Cora, what are you doing?"

I let go of Otto and smoothed out the tie I'd crumpled.

"Doing? Kissing my groom, obviously."

"Your groom? Have you lost your mind? He's my brother!"

He was choking on his rage. I answered without any.

"Mm. It's your brother I'm kissing."

The feeling jammed in his throat, too much to swallow and too much to spit out.

Delia gave his sleeve a gentle tug.

"I'm sorry, Ian. I shouldn't have called and asked you to pick me up. Now I've upset Cora."

"It's not your fault."

Ian closed his hand over hers, and when he looked back at me, the smugness was there again.

"Cora, there's a limit to how jealous you get to be."

"Delia just got back to the country with no one here. Was I supposed to leave her stranded alone at the airport?"

"I'll make the wedding up to you later. Now get down and stop dragging my brother into your little scene."

A scene?

I almost laughed.

He still hadn't noticed that the faces in the wedding photos behind him had been changed, hadn't seen that the name of the groom scrolling across the screen was no longer his.

He simply, firmly believed it had to be him. That I couldn't do without him.

I ignored him and gave Otto's hand a little shake.

"Honey, he says you're just playing along with my scene."

Otto raised a brow, his gaze sweeping to Ian, cold.

"No manners at all. Did you learn nothing? Call her your sister-in-law."

Ian froze where he stood, the expression on his face slowly cracking apart.

"Otto, you what did you say?"

Otto's brow creased, his eyes dropping to Delia beside him, full of distaste.

"We haven't gone bankrupt yet. We're not so far gone that a wedding banquet gets turned into a welcome-home dinner."

"You want to throw one for her, go rent out a restaurant."

Ian went pale.

He looked us over, alarmed and unsure, and finally his gaze landed on the row of display stands behind him.

"You photoshopped my pictures?"

Nobody answered him.

His eyes swung to Christina in disbelief, and she guiltily looked away.

"Impossible. Cora, we got the license. What's the point of you photoshopping pictures and getting married? It's all just for face, a show you're putting on for other people!"

"The license? You mean this?"

I pulled two red booklets out of my handbag and threw them on the floor.

"Two fake certificates without so much as an official seal. Doesn't look like they carry any legal weight."

"You how did you know?"

In that instant, Ian's face went bone-white.

The day we went to register, he'd gotten a text.

Ian, are you really going to marry her?

I saw the two words he sent back: Won't marry.

After he put his phone down, he complained the line was too long, told me he knew someone who could get us through the express channel.

That he knew someone was true. The express channel was not.

And so I ended up with two marriage certificates that had no official seal.

Delia sighed. "Oh, Cora's still throwing a tantrum."

The corner of Ian's mouth curled up again.

He grabbed Delia's hand. "Fine. You insist on making a scene, then make one. Let's see whether my brother actually marries you!"

"Delia, let's go. It's just a welcome-home dinner. I'll rent out the Grandview banquet hall for you."

Ian was gone.

After the reception ended, Otto brought me back to the old estate.

Unlike Ian, who was always off chasing his own amusements, Otto had lived here the whole time, keeping his mother company.

Christina had lost her husband in middle age, and raising two sons alone had not been easy.

Otto was a dutiful son. No matter how much money he made, he never bought a place of his own; every day he came home to have dinner with her.

We sat on the sofa for a while, both of us a little awkward.

Just as we were about to head up to the room, Ian came back, hands stuffed in his pockets.

He stood in the doorway, his gaze flicking to Otto's large hand resting at my waist, his face darkening, his eyes fixed hard on mine.

Otto deliberately pulled me a little closer into him, his tone mocking.

"What are you doing back? Didn't you go throw a welcome dinner for that friend of yours?"

Ian didn't answer. He gave a cold snort and dropped onto the sofa.

His staring made my skin crawl.

I tugged at the hem of Otto's shirt. "I'm a little tired."

"Then go rest."

Otto said a word to his mother, took my hand, and led me upstairs.

From the living room came the sound of Ian kicking the coffee table, like some overgrown boy throwing a fit.

Inside the room, Otto had me sit while he went to run the water.

I glanced around.

His room was large and tidy, with a faint scent of wood.

Once the bath was ready, he handed me a set of his own pajamas.

"Sorry. I didn't know so much would happen, so I didn't have any clothes ready for you."

"Wear mine tonight. Tomorrow I'll go with you to look at a place, and then move your things over."

All my things were still in the new apartment I was supposed to share with Ian.

I nodded and obediently carried his clothes into the bathroom.

When I came out from the bath, Otto was leaning against the headboard flipping through a book, the room dimmer now.

Sensing my eyes on him, he lifted a finger to his lips, signaling me to stay quiet.

Following his hint, I glanced toward the door.

There, the strip of light that should have run unbroken was now half blocked out.

I was about to ask when Otto suddenly reached out and pulled me.

A startled cry, the room spinning, and I was pinned beneath him.

There was a wicked little grin in his eyes as he asked me,

"Planning to forgive him?"

Teasing me?

I gave him the same wicked grin, hooked my fingers around his collar, and shot back, "Do you want me to forgive him?"

The words had barely left my mouth when the door was kicked open with a bang.

Ian stood outside, his face ashen, his fists clenched tight.

"What," he demanded, "are you two doing?"