OUR VOWS 77

I never imagined getting married would be this exhausting. 

Running around all day in a wedding dress left me feeling completely drained. 

When I got home, the lights were already on. 

The moment I stepped inside, Dylan’s irritated voice cut through the air. 

“Emma, where the hell have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” 

“I called you a dozen times, and you ignored me! What, still mad about the joke?” 

I frowned, suddenly remembering–Dylan still had a key to my apartment. 

I was the one who insisted on giving it to him. 

Back when I first bought this place. 

Our first year together. 

I thought we’d be married soon, so I shoved a spare key into his hand. 

Told him this was our home now, and as the man of the house, he had to have a key. 

I still remember the way he chuckled condescendingly but pocketed it anyway. 

Seven years later, looking back, I realize how naive I was. 

“Emma, getting bold now, huh? Ignoring me?” 

His sharp voice yanked me from my thoughts. 

I blinked and replied flatly, “I was out taking pictures.” 

“Phone died. Didn’t have time to charge it.” 

Dylan let out a cold laugh. 

“Come on, at least make your lies believable.” 

“You were out taking pictures? In a wedding dress?” 

“What, were you shooting bridal photos or something?” 

I stared at him, surprised. 

Because that was exactly what I’d been doing. 

“You already know, so why ask?” 

Dylan suddenly burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking, eyes watering from the effort. 

“Bridal photos, huh? Damn, Emma, you that desperate to get married?” 

“But tell me, besides me, who the hell would take bridal photos with you?” 

02:01 

Our Vows Wore Liae Rut Your Revenge Will Re Varv Daal 

He stood up and walked over, towering over me. 

“No need to cover up your pathetic pride.” 

“I told you a million times, I’ll marry you. Just stop making such a big deal out of it.” 

I bit down on my lip, hard. 

Every word Dylan said felt like a knife straight to my heart. 

From the first year of our relationship, he kept making promises, painting me a perfect picture of our future. 

But seven years had passed, and I was still waiting for him to follow through. 

I looked at him coldly. 

“You really think you’re the only man I could ever marry?” 

Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered, and flopped back into his chair, smirking at me. 

“Go ahead, prove me wrong. I’d love to see who else would take you.” 

I stood there frozen, silent. 

As much as I hated to admit it, I had wasted seven years 

on 

the 

wrong man. 

And then, suddenly- 

Dylan’s phone rang. 

A robotic voice came through the speaker. 

“Hello, Ms. Emma Sullivan.” 

“On behalf of our entire bridal boutique team, we’d like to wish you a very happy birthday…” 

Before the message could finish, Dylan hung up. 

Only then did I remember–this custom wedding dress I was wearing? 

I had listed Dylan’s number as the contact when I ordered it. 

His expression shifted, and he quickly softened, flashing me a sheepish smile. 

“Damn, Emma, I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I forgot your birthday.” 

“You were just taking birthday pictures today, right?” 

“Look, whatever it cost, I’ll cover it.” 

He really thought throwing some money around would make me swoon. 

But now? It just made me sick. 

“No need. Someone else already paid for them.” 

I declined politely–after all, a wedding photoshoot should never be paid for by another man, 

Dylan, knowing he was in the wrong, didn’t argue. 

09:01 

Our Vows Were Lies. But Your Revenge Will Be Very Real. 

Chapter 1 

Instead, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the door. 

“Forget all that. It’s your birthday, Emma. I’ve got a big surprise planned for you.” 

I wanted to refuse. 

I was exhausted, barely keeping my eyes open after running around all day. 

But Dylan wouldn’t let go of my wrist. 

He dragged me out of the apartment and took me to a high–end steakhouse. 

I rarely came to places like this. 

One, because I always felt out of place. 

And two, the portions here were ridiculously small for my appetite.