Before I Said I Do Novel by Silas Darke _ Novel




Before I Said I Do Chapter 01

I'd been with my childhood sweetheart, Broderick Reynolds, for ten years—
We broke up and got back together a million times, lost count honestly.
But the very day I found out I was pregnant, he dumped me and turned around to announce his engagement to someone else.
Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone in town.
It was Evander Cullen who stood by my side, helping me get through this mess.
People didn't even try to hide how they looked down on me.
"Jeanette’s such a pathetic simp, but Evander’s even worse. He’s practically begging to take on her mess and raise a kid that’s not even his."
"Her first guy dumped her, so the backup’s finally getting his chance."
Evander was my quiet protector, blocking out all the snarky comments and nasty whispers.
The day I finally said yes to his proposal, he cried. It was the first time I’d ever seen him cry.
"Jean," he promised, "I'm going to make you happy."
Then our wedding day hit, and out of nowhere, I was catapulted seven years into the future.
A thirty-five-year-old Evander was staring at me, his face was tight with frustration, his voice sharp and cold.
"Tell me, what will it take for you to agree to the divorce?
***
"I do," I blurted instinctively in response to the officiant's question.
It took a few awful seconds for it to sink in—my surroundings were totally different.
No cheers, no guests, not even a loving glance from Evander.
A moment ago, his gaze was raw with emotion as we traded vows. Now, those same eyes had not a single spark of warmth in them.
Evander’s tight expression relaxed the second he heard me speak.
"Since you agree to the divorce—"
"Divorce?"
I finally registered his words. "Why?"
A thick silence hung between us.
When Evander finally spoke, his voice was low. "Jeanette, can you just stop breaking your word?
"This dragging it out is useless. Do we really have to fight until everything’s totally destroyed before you’re happy?"
His frustration, the venom in his voice—it had me totally dizzy.
Evander had never once looked at me like this.
Before we got married, he'd proposed four times. I turned him down the first three times ‘cause I was scared to get hurt all over again.
But he kept reassuring me, nonstop. "Jean, I will never leave you.
"I’ll be with you for the rest of my life. Please, don't leave me.
"Just give me one chance, please."
He even got my name tattooed on his chest.
Now I just stared at him, dumbfounded, totally overwhelmed by how much he’d changed.
Evander looked ticked off, tossing a document down on the table. "Hit me up when you make up your mind. I’ll give you a month, tops.
"If not, we’re going to court."
I let my gaze drop slowly, and the huge, bold letters on the front hit me like a punch to the gut.
It was a divorce papers!
He had already signed it. Just moments before, I’d been staring at his familiar handwriting.
He knew I loved traditional weddings, so he’d handwritten our engagement vows for me. Now that same handwriting was on a cold, stiff legal document.
I pinched my arm hard, and it hurt like hell—but I still didn’t wake up from this nightmare.
I moved the paper, and the sharp edge nicked my finger. A single drop of blood fell on the papers, a reminder of the roses from Evander and our wedding.
Right then, my phone buzzed, yanking me back to reality.
I checked the screen. 2025 stared back at me—exactly seven years after our wedding.
It was Marco, the PI I’d hired, who’d texted me.
"Mr. Cullen’s heading for Rivermere Park—he’s probably headed to the west side of the city."
I scrolled through our texts, and they were full of Evander’s daily schedule and photos of a woman who lived on the west side.
The timestamps said I’d hired Marco three months back.
A week back, I’d told him to dig up everything he could on this woman—so I could get ready to face her down.
"Theresa Nash, twenty-seven years old, from Los Angeles.
"She joined Mr. Cullen's company as an intern three years ago and was immediately promoted to his assistant.
"Here’s her contact info. But a word to the wise, Ms. Howard—going after her right now’s not a good idea."
Marco’d obviously seen his fair share of ugly wife-mistress showdowns, so he told me to be careful.
I didn’t call her. Instead, I found myself scrolling through photos of Evander and Theresa—they were so close, so happy—and I kept zooming in on their faces, over and over.
My eyes burned, and tears quickly spilled onto the screen, blurring their faces completely.
I was still on the fence about calling Theresa when, out of the blue, she called me.
"Took you forever to pick up."
Theresa’s voice came through the line, cheery and so smug it was sickening. "I thought you couldn’t wait to meet me face to face."

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