The champagne flute shattered against the marble floor before I even registered throwing it. "Maya!" Derek's voice cut through the sudden silence of our pre-wedding party. "What the hell?" I stared at the woman standing next to him—Vanessa, his ex-girlfriend—who was smirking like she'd just won the lottery. In her perfectly manicured hands was a gift bag covered in white lace and silver ribbons, ridiculously elegant for what I now knew was inside. "It's just a joke," Derek said, already moving toward damage control mode. Not toward me. Toward the mess on the floor. Always cleaning up the wrong things. "A joke?" My voice came out steady, which surprised me. Everything inside felt like it was vibrating at a frequency that might shatter bones. "She just told everyone at our engagement party that she wore that lingerie while fucking you. That's your idea of a joke?" Vanessa laughed, this tinkling sound that probably drove men wild. "Oh my God, Maya, you're so sensitive. I was just sharing a funny story about Derek's preferences. You know, girl talk. Helping you out before the wedding night." Girl talk. Right. I looked around the room—our living room, decorated with white and gold balloons, filled with people who were supposed to be celebrating Derek and me. My best friend Jenna had her hand over her mouth. Derek's brother looked uncomfortable. My mother had left the room entirely, probably to cry in the bathroom. And Derek? Derek was picking up pieces of broken glass, avoiding my eyes. "Say something," I said to him. My hands were shaking. "Tell her that was completely inappropriate." He stood up, still holding crystal shards. "Babe, I know Vanessa can be a lot, but—" "A lot?" The laugh that came out of me sounded unhinged. "She crashed our party, told everyone about your sex life with her, and gave me her used underwear as a wedding gift. And you're calling her 'a lot'?" "They're not used," Vanessa interjected, examining her nails. "I bought the same set for you. Different size, obviously." Her eyes raked over my body. "Bigger." The room gasped. Someone—I think it was Jenna—said "Oh, hell no." Derek finally looked at Vanessa. "Okay, that was uncalled for." "That was uncalled for?" I repeated. "That? Not the rest of it? Just that last part?" "Maya, you're making a scene." Derek set down the glass and reached for my arm. I jerked away like his touch burned. "I'm making a scene? I'm not the one who showed up uninvited to talk about how good she was in bed with the groom!" "I didn't show up uninvited," Vanessa said sweetly. "Derek told me about the party. We're still friends, Maya. You can't expect him to just cut off someone who was such a big part of his life." My eyes snapped to Derek. "You invited her?" The guilt on his face was answer enough. "It's not like that," he started. "She asked what I was doing this weekend, and I mentioned the party. I didn't think she'd actually—" "You didn't think." I nodded, feeling something cold settle in my chest. Clarity, maybe. Or the death of whatever hope I'd been clinging to. "That's the problem, Derek. You never think. Not about how it looks. Not about how it makes me feel. Not about anything except keeping Vanessa happy." "That's not fair." "Fair?" I laughed again, and this time I heard the edge of hysteria in it. "You want to talk about fair? I've spent six months watching you drop everything when she calls. Listening to you defend her every time she 'accidentally' touches you or brings up your relationship. Pretending I'm okay with you having lunch with her twice a week because you're 'just friends.' And now this. At our engagement party. In front of everyone we know." "You're being paranoid," Derek said, and I watched Jenna's face go red with fury on my behalf. "Vanessa is just—" "If you say she's 'just being Vanessa' I swear to God—" "She's going through a hard time! Her mom is sick, and she needs support from people who care about her." "Then she should get a therapist, not my fiancé!" Vanessa placed a hand on Derek's arm. The gesture was subtle, possessive. "Derek, maybe I should go. I didn't mean to cause problems. I just wanted to help Maya prepare for married life with you. You know, since I know you so well." The implication hung in the air like poison gas. Derek patted her hand. Actually patted it, comforting her while I stood there shaking with rage. "It's okay, V," he said softly. "Maya's just stressed about the wedding." V. He called her V. Something inside me snapped clean in half. "Get out," I said. Vanessa's eyes widened in fake innocence. "Maya, I really didn't mean—" "Not you." I looked at Derek. "You. Get out of my apartment." "Your apartment? We live here together." "My name is on the lease. Mine. You moved in six months ago. Get. Out." Derek's face flushed. "You're being ridiculous. We're not breaking up over this." "You're right," I said. "We're not breaking up over this. We're breaking up because you just chose to comfort your ex-girlfriend instead of defending your fiancée. We're breaking up because you've chosen her over me every single day for months, and I was too stupid to see it."