No Longer Yours to Break novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Connor stared at Eleanor like he could burn a hole through her.

She pointed at the bracelet.

“You seriously didn’t know? That’s Zoe’s.”

The sapphire bracelet still gleamed under the lights, polished from years of care.

Connor’s jaw tightened. Something cold twisted in his chest.

“This isn’t Vicky’s?” His voice cracked. “I was thirteen, sick with that crazy fever. Vicky stayed with me the whole time. Before she left, I took this off her wrist. It HAS to be hers–it can’t be Zoe’s.”

Eleanor blinked, stunned.

with you

“What are you talking about? When you were sick, it was Zoe who stayed up -three whole days. She didn’t sleep, not once. We begged her to rest, but she wouldn’t until you woke up. She passed out from low blood sugar, ended up on an IV…”

She kept going, but her voice blurred out.

Connor couldn’t hear a thing.

The venue buzzed with wedding chatter, but inside, everything went numb.

The bracelet in his hand felt heavier by the second–like it was punching straight through his chest.

No way.

Could it really be true?

If his mom was right, then he’d messed up–bad. Over a decade loving the wrong girl, while the one who actually cared got tossed aside.

“Connor! Hey! It’s not your turn yet–where are you going?”

Eleanor’s voice trailed off as he stormed out, jaw clenched, eyes dark.

1/3

Onstage, the emcee was hyping up the bride and groom–until Connor marched right out, cutting across the spotlight.

He grabbed Vicky’s wrist and yanked her offstage.

She flinched, trying to play it cool.

“Connor, what are you doing? You’re hurting me…”

He brushed past the emcee’s stunned stare, unfazed by the whispers rippling through the crowd.

Holding up the bracelet, he locked eyes with her.

“This. Is it yours?”

Vicky blinked. Panic flickered, but she forced a smile.

“I… don’t think so? Did someone lose it? What’s wrong?”

She shot a quick look at the guests, giving a shaky wave–like she was signaling security without making a scene.

But the second her answer sank in, Connor went still.

The color drained from Vicky’s face.

She clutched her gown, trying to stay steady.

“Connor… what’s going on? Don’t do this…”

She reached up, aiming for his cheek. Just a few more minutes–that’s all they needed. The rest could be fixed later.

But the second she touched him, Connor grabbed her wrist and shoved her away.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, voice barely a whisper.

“No… this isn’t right…”

Then he looked up, eyes locked in.

2/3

He turned, snagged the mic from the emcee.

“Sorry, everyone. Due to personal reasons, the wedding’s off.”

A loud crash split the air behind him–glass exploding.

Vicky’s lips went ghost–white.

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