Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 8

**Aria’s POV**

After Aiden’s departure, his final words reverberated through my thoughts like a haunting melody: “I’ll come pick up Mrs. Carter in a week.”

The calmness with which he had delivered that statement sent a wave of unease crashing over me, twisting my stomach into a tight knot of dread. My appetite had evaporated, replaced by a gnawing anxiety that refused to let go. Was this his way of punishing me for my reckless marriage proposal? Did he truly take my impulsive decision seriously, when I had half-hoped he would laugh it off as a fleeting whim?

I hadn’t summoned the courage to inform my father about my hasty choice. How could I possibly explain that I had exchanged our most prized asset for a mere marriage certificate, binding me to the heir of the Carter family—Liam’s fiercest business adversary, no less?

As I sat in the living room, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me, I felt like a tightrope walker teetering on the edge of a precipice. Just then, my phone buzzed to life, illuminating the screen with Lillian’s name. A video call—perfect timing. I desperately needed to share this chaotic whirlwind of events with someone who could understand.

“Hey, Lil—” I began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Aria!” Lillian’s face filled the screen, her brows furrowed in anger. “Have you seen what that snake Sophia is up to now? I swear, I have never wanted to strangle someone so badly in my entire life!”

My confession was abruptly stifled. “What happened?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“Check your social media right now. You’re trending again,” she replied, her voice laced with urgency.

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I opened my phone’s browser, dread pooling in my chest. Sure enough, there I was, trending at number five: “Turns out getting left at the altar isn’t the worst thing.”

With trembling fingers, I tapped on the link. The first post was a series of photos featuring Liam and Sophia at a Chanel boutique, their faces alight with excitement. Sophia’s smile was radiant as Liam slipped a colossal diamond onto her finger, her expression radiating pure triumph.

An anonymous “insider” had provided the context:

“Remember that nationally famous runaway groom scandal from two weeks ago? The bride who got into a car accident while chasing after her fiancé? Well, my friend is in their social circle and just discovered something even more heartbreaking!

Today was supposed to be Aria and Liam’s four-year dating anniversary—the day they planned to obtain their marriage license after returning from their honeymoon! Instead, I spotted the runaway groom at Chanel, purchasing a ring for his ‘true love!’ Just when you thought Aria Jones couldn’t be any more pitiful, life proves you wrong!”

My heart sank further as I scrolled through the comments, each one striking like a physical blow:

“Poor Aria Jones. First abandoned at the altar, now watching her ex shop for rings with his new girlfriend ON THEIR SPECIAL DAY.”

“You don’t look fine. You look… different.” Lillian leaned closer to her screen, scrutinizing my expression. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything soon. Promise.” I assured her. “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?”

After ending the call, I took an action that would surely send shockwaves through Sophia’s entire circle. With deliberate intent, I opened each of their smug social media posts and liked them all. Every single “Sophia deserves this” received my digital thumbs-up.

With a firm grip on my crutch, I hobbled back to my bedroom, determination coursing through me. On my dresser lay the marriage certificate I had received just hours earlier—a tangible testament to my impulsive decision. I picked it up, carefully angling my phone to capture the document while obscuring the key details.

With steady fingers, I posted it on my social media with a simple two-word caption: “Already married.”

I set my phone down and took a deep breath, feeling an unexpected sense of liberation wash over me. Liam wanted to turn our relationship into a public spectacle?

Fine. I would play along.

Let’s see who outplays who.