They Switched My Groom So I Married The Wrong Man Chapter 07
So I Can Find You
Ryan takes me to a jewelry store the next morning.
I look at him.
“We already have a ring.”
“We have my mother’s emergency ring.”
He lifts my hand.
The diamond slides slightly around my finger.
“This one doesn’t fit.”
“It’s fine.”
“No.”
He looks completely serious.
“I promised you one that fits.”
Apparently, that’s the end of the discussion.
We spend nearly an hour finding the right size.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing I would be afraid to wear every day.
Just a simple diamond ring that stays exactly where it should when Ryan slides it onto my finger.
“There.”
He looks satisfied.
“Better.”
On our way out, I lose him.
Or rather, I think I find him.
A man in a dark jacket is standing near the entrance with his back to me.
Same height.
Similar build.
I walk up beside him.
“Ready?”
The stranger turns.
A hand lands lightly on my shoulder.
“Claire.”
Ryan.
I step back immediately.
“Sorry.”
The stranger gives us a confused look before walking away.
Ryan watches him go.
Then he looks at me.
“Should I dye my hair?”
The question is so random that I stare at him.
“What?”
“My hair.”
He points at his head.
“If I dye it, you’ll be able to find me in a crowd.”
Something inside me goes still.
Ethan used to do that.
In high school, his hair was always some ridiculous color.
Our school hated it.
Teachers constantly told him to dye it back.
He never did.
He used to grin and tell me,
“Now you’ll always know which one is me.”
In college, he kept doing it.
Then we graduated.
One day, Ethan came home with black hair.
I asked why.
He shrugged.
“I’m working now. I can’t walk around looking like a teenager forever.”
“People won’t take me seriously.”
It made sense.
So I never asked him to change it again.
Ryan is already pulling me toward the salon across the hall.
“Pick one.”
“You’re serious?”
“Very.”
I look at the color chart.
Maybe part of me wants to test him.
I point to the most ridiculous shade I can find.
“Ice blue.”
Ryan studies it.
Then nods.
“Okay.”
I blink.
“I was joking.”
“Too late.”
“Ryan, people are going to think you’re insane.”
“So?”
“You’re twenty-nine.”
“Thank you for remembering.”
“They might not take you seriously.”
Ryan shrugs.
“I’m not dyeing it for them.”
He sits in the chair.
Then looks at me through the mirror.
“If you can find me in a crowd, that’s enough.”
I don’t know what to say.
Two hours later, I walk out of the salon beside a man with ice-blue hair.
He looks ridiculous.
He also looks impossible to lose.
Mrs. Walker stares when we get home.
“Oh my God.”
Ryan runs a hand through his hair.
“Claire picked it.”
His mother immediately turns to me.
“I love it.”
“Mom.”
“What? I do.”
She moves Ryan aside.
“Stop blocking the doorway. Let Claire in.”
I laugh.
That night, Ryan carries my boxes into his bedroom.
He puts extra pillows down the middle of the bed.
“If you’re uncomfortable sharing, this is the border.”
I look at the line.
“Very official.”
“I take international relations seriously.”
He points toward the bathroom.
“You use this one. I’ll use the hall bathroom.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
He says it simply.
“I’m going to anyway.”
He doesn’t ask me for anything.
At nine, my phone rings.
Ethan.
I answer because part of me wants to know what he could possibly have left to say.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Our apartment is empty.”
“Then you already know I’m not there.”
“Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”
I hang up.
Then I block him.
Messages from my parents arrive next.
Sophie had an asthma attack.
According to them, it’s my fault.
None ask where I’m staying.
None ask whether I’m okay.
They only tell me how cruel I was.
How embarrassed they are.
How everyone at the wedding is talking about them.
I listen to every message.
Then I type one reply.
Sophie can be your daughter from now on.
If you ever truly can’t take care of yourselves, I’ll make sure you have help. Until then, don’t contact me.
I block them too.
The next morning, I oversleep.
I rush downstairs with my bag half open.
Mrs. Walker stops me at the door.
“Breakfast.”
“I don’t have time.”
“That’s why I packed it.”
She puts a warm breakfast sandwich in my hand.
For some reason, that nearly makes me cry.
At work, my coworkers immediately surround me.
“You just got married.”
“And you’re already back?”
A few days later, I leave work and find Ethan waiting outside.
He looks exhausted.
“We need to talk.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“I said no.”
He steps in front of me.
“You married someone you barely know because you were angry.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t seriously think that’s better than what we had.”
“I do.”
“You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know he and his family have treated me better in a few days than you and my own parents did on my wedding day.”
Ethan goes quiet.
“He knows about your face blindness?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s okay with it?”
I stare at him.
“What exactly is he supposed to be okay with?”
“You know what I mean.”
His voice drops.
“What happens when you walk past your own husband in public because you don’t recognize him?”
A voice comes from behind Ethan.
“Then I make myself easier to recognize.”
Ethan turns.
Ryan walks toward us.
Ice-blue hair bright in the afternoon sun.
He bumps Ethan aside with his shoulder, takes my bag from me, and looks at me.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Traffic?”
“Terrible.”
He reaches for my hand.
I let him take it.
Then I look at Ethan.
“There’s your answer.”
His eyes move from Ryan’s hair to me.
Something flickers across his face.
Maybe he remembers.
The boy who once dyed his hair bright colors so I could always find him.
The man who later decided it wasn’t worth looking unprofessional.
I don’t know.
And I don’t care anymore.
“Ethan.”
He looks at me.
“The moment you agreed to give Sophie my wedding, we were over.”
This time, he doesn’t follow us.