He Said One Kneel Bought Forever Love, but Finally Begged Me Back Chapter 02

He Said One Kneel Bought Forever Love, but Finally Begged Me Back Chapter 02

His grip tightened.

Sloane’s voice came through the door.

“Graham, come out.”

“Your dad’s table is full of older relatives. They’re waiting for you.”

Graham didn’t move.

Sloane walked in anyway.

My veil was still on her head, crooked, torn at the edge.

She pulled it off when she saw me and tossed it onto the vanity.

“That’s enough, Laurel.”

“There are over two hundred people out there. Graham can’t ditch all of them just to hold your hand.”

Graham’s voice dropped. “Go outside.”

Sloane tsked.

“Fine. I’ll stay out of it.”

She walked to the door, then turned back.

“But just so you know.”

“Threats don’t work on Graham. Breakups, divorce, any of that, he shuts down.”

“His mom tried to make him transfer schools in high school. He showed up at my place with a suitcase and crashed in my room for six months. Wouldn’t go home.”

“You don’t win with Graham by pushing. The harder you push, the harder he digs in.”

Graham frowned. “Are you done?”

Sloane smiled and shrugged. On her way out, she spotted the veil on the vanity.

“By the way, your mom really left you this?”

“No wonder it’s such a piece of junk. I barely stepped on it and it fell apart.”

I looked at the veil in her hand. “Put it down.”

Sloane blinked, then laughed.

“Fine, fine. I won’t touch it.”

“But when your mom was in the hospital, you ran Graham so ragged he couldn’t sleep. I was the one up with him at two in the morning.”

“The night your mom was dying, he passed out in my car. I was the one who answered her last message.”

My hands went cold.

The night my mother died, I called Graham seventeen times. He didn’t pick up once. The next morning, he told me he couldn’t get away from a work dinner.

Graham wouldn’t look at me. “I’ll explain later.”

He let go of me and followed Sloane out.

At the door, he said one last thing. “Go home and wait for me.”

But this time, I didn’t wait.

I folded the torn veil carefully and walked out of The Alderstone Hotel alone.

I hadn’t been home long before the videos started coming in. One after another, flooding the wedding group chat.

The reception hadn’t ended.

Graham’s parents were still onstage, smiling through their teeth, telling everyone I’d been stressed and to please not take it personally.

Sloane was standing next to Graham with a beer in one hand.

Someone asked why she was still up there if the bride was gone.

She propped one foot on a chair, slapped Graham on the shoulder, and laughed. “The groom got benched today. Obviously his best man’s gotta stay and hold it down.”

She took over Graham’s toasts, table after table.

By the end of the night, she was sitting in my seat.

Graham nudged her shoe with his foot.

“Get up.”

Sloane didn’t budge. She picked up my glass and clinked it against his.

“Relax, I’m just keeping it warm. Don’t be so uptight.”

Graham didn’t tell her to move again.

When it was time to cut the cake, the emcee stared at the empty bride’s chair and froze.

Sloane rolled up her sleeves and walked right up to the stage.

She stood behind Graham, wrapped her hand around his, and they cut the cake together.

Graham leaned in. “Don’t cut it crooked.”

Sloane scooped up a handful of frosting and smeared it across his face.

He froze for a second, then grabbed her wrist and smeared the rest right back.

They chased each other around the cake.

Sloane laughed so hard she stumbled right into him.

Graham caught her by the waist without thinking.

“You’re a grown woman and you still can’t walk straight.”

Graham’s parents were laughing along in every clip.

The wedding I’d spent eight months planning went on just fine without me. Like nothing had happened.

Half an hour later, Sloane posted on social media.

[The bride went on strike, so her best friend saved the day.]

The comments piled up fast.

[Congrats on marrying off your boy, Sloane.]

[You two have better chemistry than the actual couple.]

[Honestly, did this wedding even need a bride?]

Graham didn’t say a word.

The only thing he left was a comment. [She’s throwing a fit. Knock it off.]

Right then, an email came through. The final offer from the Hawthorne Manuscript Institute in Westbridge.

Three-year project. Permanent position at the end.

A month ago, I’d turned it down for Graham.

This time, I clicked accept.

Then I called my lawyer.

“Draw up the divorce papers. I don’t want any of the marital assets.”

“I just need it done fast.”