Engraved with the Wrong Name Novel – During the three years I was with Griffin Thorne, he constantly mistook me for his ex-girlfriend, Jade. When he’d pour me a whiskey, he would murmur, “Jade, come try my latest private stash.” When he gave me an antique necklace for my birthday, the note inside the box read, “To my dearest Jade, Happy Birthday.” During our most intimate moments, he’d whisper in my ear, “Jade, should I be gentler?” After he’d gotten my name wrong for the thousandth time, my initial anger had long since simmered into weary resignation. I could only turn his face to mine, meet his gaze, and remind him, again and again. “My name is Kimberly, not Jade.” Over time, Griffin started pausing for two seconds before saying my name. Then he would carefully, deliberately pronounce each syllable: “Kim-ber-ly.” I thought he had finally corrected himself. Until his old flame, Jade Vance, returned to Chicago, seeking the Family’s protection. From then on, the Family’s prized red wine was once again mistakenly sent to Jade. The diamond necklace delivered to the Family headquarters on Valentine’s Day was also addressed to Jade. Even when he proposed to me at a Family dinner, kneeling before me, he asked: “Jade Vance, will you marry me?” The words “I do” caught in my throat. All my excitement vanished in an instant. Suddenly, it all felt so meaningless.
1 When Griffin realized what he’d said, his face went blank. He scrambled to his feet to explain, but still paused for two seconds before speaking. “Kimberly, I…” A bitter irony washed over me. Even now, in a moment like this, he still had to pause just to remember my name. I knew what he wanted to say. That it was a habit. That he was just nervous. After three years, I was tired of hearing it. I took a step back, pulling away from his outstretched hand. “There’s nothing left to say.” “Let’s break up.” “No…” Griffin tried to say more. But the surrounding Family members, hearing the commotion, had started to gather. When they saw what looked like a proposal, the crowd erupted. “Oh my God, Griffin is proposing at the Family dinner!” “Jade! You and Griffin are together? Why didn’t you tell us?” I turned and saw Jade standing not far away. My slender frame was completely hidden by a marble statue on the estate grounds. From a distance, it really did look like Griffin was kneeling before her.
Jade covered her mouth, her eyes brimming with a mixture of joy and disbelief. Her friends swarmed her, their congratulations and teasing pushing her toward Griffin. Someone shoved me hard as they rushed past. “Hey, he’s proposing! Get out of the way!” I stumbled. My custom-made gown was trampled, and my carefully styled curls snagged painfully on someone’s cufflink. I squeezed out of the crowd, utterly disheveled. When I looked up, Griffin and Jade were already encircled by the crowd. Jade, in her champagne-colored evening gown, stood at the center like a princess about to receive her happily ever after. And I was just another spectator to their joy. Through a gap in the crowd, my eyes met Griffin’s. His gaze was a tangled mess of panic and guilt. I saw his mouth open, as if to explain. But at the sight of Jade’s joyful tears, he swallowed whatever he was about to say. He smiled, then slipped the ring meant for me onto her finger. I managed a bitter smile. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t demand an explanation. I just quietly turned and walked away from the celebration that was supposed to be mine.
The night grew dark, and the wind off the lake was bone-chillingly cold. I walked alone down a path across the estate grounds. My mind replayed the thrill I’d felt when I accidentally discovered Griffin’s proposal plans. The stylist I’d booked a month in advance, the gown custom-made by an Italian designer, the eight hours I’d spent selecting the perfect jewelry. When the day finally came, I was too nervous to sleep. I hugged my pillow, imagining the look on Griffin’s face when he proposed. He was always so calm and composed; would he stammer? Would his ears turn red? No matter what, I was going to accept the ring and throw myself into his arms. Then I’d shout it for everyone to hear: “I do!” If only the sunset over the lake was just right. The light, just like in the movies, would cast a golden halo around us. And maybe a passerby would capture the moment. I would make it the cover of a photo album and give it pride of place in our future home. Lost in the fantasy, a small, hopeful giggle escaped my lips. A car horn blared— It jolted me back to reality. Here I was, hair a mess, dress stained. Walking alone under the cold night sky. My phone vibrated. A message from Griffin. Kimberly, I’m sorry.
I stopped in my tracks. But just go along with it for now. Jade already accepted in public. Don’t embarrass me in front of the Family. … I stared at the screen for a long time. But I wasn’t surprised. From the moment Griffin proposed to the wrong woman, I knew exactly what he’d do. It was just like last Valentine’s Day, when the limited-edition sports car delivered to headquarters was mistakenly sent to Jade. When I went to claim it, he gently stopped me. “Sorry, Kimberly, I must have put down the wrong name.” “Just let Jade have it. Taking it back now, in front of everyone, would humiliate her.” A new notification popped up on the Family’s secure channel. Griffin’s hosting an engagement party! Everyone to the second-floor ballroom! It wasn’t a last-minute decision; it was all part of the original plan. Since he’d proposed to the wrong person, everything that was meant to follow—the party, the celebration—would now be for her. This was Griffin’s way. Someone posted a photo of the dinner table. Top-shelf champagne and caviar, with Boston lobster for the main course. I’m allergic to alcohol, a fact Griffin had never managed to remember. But as it happened, it was Jade’s favorite. Perhaps this was fate, guiding him back to his rightful path. I closed the app and called for a Family car. Whatever his plan was, I was making my exit. I returned to the penthouse apartment alone. Pushing the door open, the first thing I saw was the hand-painted portrait on the entryway console. My steps faltered. Griffin wasn’t into art; it had taken me ages to persuade him to sit for it. I remembered the day we moved in, carrying the heavy frame around, searching for the perfect spot.
Griffin gave me a helpless look. “It’s just a painting. Does it really matter where it goes?” I turned and shook my head seriously. “No. I want it to be the first thing anyone sees when they walk in.” The console table by the door was my carefully chosen spot. When you opened the door, the light from the hallway illuminated it instantly. It was supposed to be a testament to our happiness. My sole comfort after long nights spent trying to carve out a place for myself in this city. But was I really happy? I picked up the frame, my fingers tracing the canvas. Even in a portrait, Griffin’s face was stern, unsmiling.