“Isabella, don’t mind Ashton. Ugh, well, he is a fool when he drinks a lot. He cannot recognize one face from another." Even his friend that tried to ease the atmosphere shut his mouth when he saw the kind of gaze Ashton directed at the woman beside him.
“Hey, Ashton. Your fiancée is here.”
Ashton did not even seem to notice my presence at all and just looked around with hazy disinterested irises. A low growl vibrated across the packhouse as he warned others who came to separate him from the woman.
How ironic it was that the times when he was sober were all lies, and this time, when he was so drunk, only then he spoke the truth.
The girl he called Bella so affectionately had golden locks flowing down to her waist with an oval face that glowed like moon. She was wearing an exquisite blue dress and had her own unique charm. I recognized her face from Ashton’s yearbook that he had preserved till now.
My lips trembled as I barely held in the sobs.
That tattoo wasn’t for me, that ‘Bella’ was never me and Ashton never once loved me.
I was a substitute bride.
Seeing me frozen on spot, Arabella came forward and slowly took off a golden pendant dangling from her neck, making me widen my eyes.