Hate Me Like You Love Me (Serena and Caleb) novel Chapter 69

The room goes still. The kind of silence that feels like the air has been sucked out of the space entirely, leaving nothing but shock in its wake.

A hundred guests stand frozen mid-motion—champagne glasses hovering, conversations abandoned, faces turned toward me with expressions ranging from confusion to horror.

Lucas’s smile freezes on his face. It’s still there, technically, but brittle now, cracking at the edges like porcelain under pressure.

Patricia Bennett’s glass hovers mid-sip, forgotten. Richard’s toast dies on his lips, his mouth still open around words that will never be spoken.

The unthinkable has happened: the bride has refused the groom in front of everyone who matters.

“Serena.” Lucas’s voice is low, controlled, but I can hear the danger underneath. “Perhaps we should discuss this privately.”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” I keep my voice steady, my posture straight. “I do not consent to this engagement. I never truly did.”

The Bennetts launch into immediate damage control.

“Cold feet!” Richard’s laugh is forced, jovial, the practiced charm of a man who’s talked his way out of scandals before. “Perfectly natural, perfectly understandable. Pre-wedding nerves affect the best of us.”

Patricia steps forward, her smile sharp as cut glass.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere more appropriate.” Her voice drips honey, but her eyes are venomous. “No need to air family matters in front of our guests.”

“This isn’t a family matter.” I hold my ground. “This is the truth.”

“Babe…” Lucas reaches for my arm.

“Don’t touch me.”

The words come out harder than I intend, loud enough to carry. Gasps ripple through the crowd. Lucas’s hand freezes mid-reach, his mask slipping further.

Then my father moves.

He steps forward and stands beside me, shoulder to shoulder, a wall of paternal protection I didn’t know I needed until this moment. His presence is solid, unwavering, the steadiness I’ve been missing for months.

“She said no.” His voice carries across the room, calm but immovable. “That’s the end of it.”

“William, surely we can be reasonable about this.” Richard’s tone shifts, businessman to businessman. “Whatever concerns Serena has, I’m certain we can address them in a more appropriate setting.”

“There is no appropriate setting for what your son has done.”

The accusation lands like a stone in still water. Ripples of whispered speculation spread through the crowd.

Lucas’s composure flickers. I watch him calculate, watch his hand twitch toward his pocket where his phone sits heavy with leverage. The footage. The nuclear option he’s been saving for exactly this moment.

My eyes find Caleb across the room.

He’s already moving, pushing through the crowd toward me, but he’s too far away. I watch the realization dawn on his face—the same terrible understanding flooding through me.

No. Not like this. Not in front of everyone.

I can see Caleb weighing the distance, calculating whether he can reach Lucas before the words leave his mouth.

Our eyes meet across the sea of horrified faces, and in that single glance I see everything—fury, fear, and beneath it all, a desperate apology for what’s about to be unleashed.

Lucas’s fingers close around his phone. Time slows to a crawl.

Caleb breaks into motion, shoving past a waiter, knocking a champagne glass from someone’s hand. He’s not going to make it. We both know it.

But before he can speak, a voice cuts through the tension.

“My name is Rachel Weaver.”

The crowd parts as Rachel steps forward, her auburn hair catching the chandelier light, her green eyes steady and unflinching.

She moves to stand beside me, and I feel the shift in the room’s attention—away from my refusal, toward something new.

“Three years ago, I was a freshman at this university.”

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