Chapter 2: The Nephew, the Lie, and the Glass Room

I turned and saw a young man, about twenty, tall and handsome. On closer look, he seemed familiar.

He looked like the kind of college kid who played basketball on weekends and actually called his grandma on Sundays. There was a hint of Derek in his jawline, but his eyes were sharp and careful.

When I didn’t answer, he spoke again. "Mr. Carter called and said you came to the Callahan place looking for me."

His voice was casual, but there was a note of curiosity, like he was piecing together a puzzle.

Only then did I realize Mr. Carter must be the person from the business card.

A bit embarrassed, I scratched my head, glanced at Derek’s face on the poster, and said, "Yeah, but I’ve already found who I was looking for."

My voice cracked in a way I didn’t mean. He watched me, not missing a thing.

"You mean my uncle?"

I was stunned. "Derek is your uncle?"

"Yeah. He’s really busy today. Let’s head inside. When my uncle’s free, I’ll grab him for you."

He pulled me inside as he spoke.

He walked with that easy confidence you only get from growing up in a house with too many rooms. He glanced back every now and then, like he was making sure I wouldn’t bolt for the exit.

"What’s your name?"

"Caleb. And you?"

Without thinking, I blurted out, "Megan."

The name came out too easily, echoing off the marble floors like a secret let loose. I watched for his reaction—his eyes flickered, mouth tightening like he was biting back a memory.

His jaw twitched, but he kept moving, only a shade more cautious. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, heart thudding.

He took me to a private room on the second floor, so I didn’t have to squeeze into the main hall. From the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the entire ceremony stage.

The room was all glass and lilies, the kind of place where even your thoughts echoed. The city glittered below, and I felt like I was peering out at a world I barely belonged to anymore.

After the host’s opening, today’s main couple walked out under everyone’s gaze.

It was the first time in five years I’d seen Derek.

He was almost thirty, but time had left no trace on his face.

He looked older, sure, but in that good way—like the kind of aging you see in whiskey ads, all depth and shadow. The black suit fit him perfectly, making him look even more mature and charming.

If I remembered right, his fiancée was the daughter of the Shaw family. Years ago, both families had wanted them to marry, but Derek had insisted on being with me, the outsider.

He’d even stressed out old Mr. Callahan so badly he landed in the hospital.

The old man never forgave me, not really. But Derek had always chosen me, even when it cost him.

I never expected that, after five years, he’d still end up with Lauren Shaw.

If I’d known, why had we made such a fuss back then…

Maybe love stories are just stories after all—told and retold, until everyone forgets who the villain was supposed to be.