Montgomery Miller III.
I swallowed.
I clicked back, hands slightly unsteady now, and refined the search.
Her name again.
The Knot.
The page loaded slowly.
And there it was.
A photo.
Sage—younger, but unmistakably her. Same smile. Same poise. Standing beside a tall man in a suit, his arm easy around her waist.
They looked… polished. Certain.
Below it: details.
Wedding Location:The Hamptons
Date:Three years ago
Status:Cancelled
I stared at the screen longer than I meant to.
Scrolled further.
Venue booked. Invitations sent. Registry still live, frozen in time like a ghost house no one ever moved into.
A dead wedding.
My chest felt tight, like I’d missed a step on the stairs and my body hadn’t caught up yet.
She’d told me she’d been engaged once. That it ended. That they wanted different things.
She hadn’t lied.
But she hadn’t told me this either.
I closed the browser quickly when I heard footsteps down the hall, heart thudding harder than it should’ve.
I didn’t know what to do with what I’d just seen.
Only that I couldn’t unsee it.
That weekend in the Hamptons—the fight, the jealousy, the way everything had gone off the rails—it hadn’t come out of nowhere.
It had history.
And now I had to decide what to do with it.
Because staying meant accepting that there were parts of Sage’s life I might never fully understand.
And leaving meant detonating something that had already wrapped itself around my daily life.
