Three Buses And A Father’s Pride, All Pushed To The Spare Table Chapter 06

Three Buses And A Father’s Pride, All Pushed To The Spare Table Chapter 06

The call connected.

Rick Thompson’s voice came through. *Clara?*

The ballroom was dead quiet.

Everyone was staring at me.

Caleb’s expression went from impatient to warning.

I didn’t flinch.

*Rick, the wedding’s off,* I said.

Caleb’s face shifted.

Patricia rushed toward me. *Clara, don’t you dare—*

I kept going. *I’m not handling Vance Group’s execution on this anymore. But if you’re still willing, I’ll resubmit the proposal on my own.*

A few seconds of silence on the line.

Then Rick asked one thing, *Are you still in?*

“Yes.”

*Then I’m in with you.*

Four words.

Patricia’s smile collapsed.

*Since when does the Thompson deal belong to you?* she

—

snapped.

I hung up.

*Because I spent three months rewriting Vance Group’s proposal.
Went with Rick to every single factory. Reviewed the supply chain.
Reworked the budget from scratch.”

Caleb’s voice was strained. *Clara, do you have to embarrass everyone like this?”

“I’m not the one embarrassing anyone. You’re the one who kicked my dad off the head table.”

He had nothing to say.

I put my arm around my father and called to Leo.

“Let’s go.”

My father held the hope chest, the latch broken, pressing the lid down with his hand.

At the door, he stopped.

He turned and looked back at the chair next to the kitchen service door.

Hanging on the back of it was his corsage.

Crushed and wrinkled.

I took it down and put it in his palm.

*Come on, Dad. Let’s go home.”

—

In the car, Leo held the chest, his knuckles white.

My father stared out the window. Then he said, “Clara… did I embarrass you?”

My throat closed up.

He smiled. “My clothes were too old today. Shoes from last year. I should’ve rented a nicer suit.”

He said it so seriously.

Leo’s eyes went red. “Dad, they’re the ones who bullied us!”

My father cut him off fast. “Don’t say that.”

He looked at me, his voice even softer. “Walking out on your wedding like that… it’s not a good look for a girl.”

At the hotel, I booked two rooms.

My father stood at the door and wouldn’t go in.

I crouched down to tie his loose shoelace.

He pulled back. “It’s dirty.”

I held his foot still. “Dad, you didn’t embarrass anyone. They’re the ones who weren’t good enough for us.”

My father froze.

After a long time, he turned his face away and wiped the corner of his eye.

That night, Caleb went back to the marital house.

—

He didn’t actually believe I was gone.

He thought I was waiting for him to come get me.

He pushed the door open. The house was eerily quiet.

White ribbons still hung from the doorways. Wedding decorations still clung to the walls.

But the photo wall was empty.

Half my clothes were gone from the closet.

The jewelry box, skincare, trial makeup photos—all missing from the vanity.

The bridal shop said the dress had been returned.

The wedding planner said the final payment was settled and their lawyer would handle the rest.

He called me.

“Clara, do you really have to go this hard?”

I stood at the end of the hallway.

“I have my lawyer totaling up the wedding costs. The damage to my father’s hope chest. Leo getting replaced as groomsman. My father getting shoved in the corner. The Vances owe me a formal apology.”

He laughed bitterly. “You’re trying to make me bow?”

“I’m just collecting every bit of dignity you owe my father. One piece at a time.”

—

“You’ll regret this.”

I hung up.

The next morning, William Vance issued an internal notice.

All brand projects under Caleb Vance were suspended due to the wedding incident.

His succession evaluation was paused too.

That’s when he finally understood.

I hadn’t just run away from the wedding. I had removed myself—along with my father and my brother—from his entire life.