I Prepared For My Wedding, Only To Be Shut Out Of My Own Bridal Suite Chapter 03

I Prepared For My Wedding, Only To Be Shut Out Of My Own Bridal Suite Chapter 03

Bennett’s mother pressed her lips together. “Three hundred people downstairs, both families. If this turns into a scene, we all look like fools.”

“We accepted their wedding gifts just like you did. You want every relative we’ve got laughing behind our backs?”

My father gave her a long, cold look. “My daughter is standing outside her own wedding while you make room for another woman. That’s what respect looks like in the Langford family?”

A server rolled up with a room service cart. Oatmeal, scrambled eggs, chamomile tea.

Bennett pressed his palm to the side of the teapot. “Tea’s too hot. Give it two minutes. Her stomach’s been acting up. No chives in those eggs.”

I hadn’t eaten since dawn, and my stomach had been cramping for an hour. He never asked me once. But Sloane’s oatmeal got a full inspection.

Twelve minutes.

The coordinator came up herself this time, the schedule crushed in her fist. “Doors open at eleven thirty sharp, no exceptions. If the bride isn’t dressed, there’s a hole in the middle of the ceremony.”

Bennett plucked the pen from her hand and started slashing through the page.

“Getting-ready photos, gone. First look with the parents, gone.”

“Cut the father-of-the-bride speech. Trim the walk down the aisle.”

“Cut the readings and the vows too. We go straight to the rings.”

The pen scratched down the paper, loud as a blade.

Sixty seconds. That’s all it took him to gut the wedding I’d spent six months building, down to nothing but a ring.

My father’s face hardened. He’d been waiting years to give that speech, and a whole month of his life had gone into it.

The coordinator turned to me, lost. “Miss Whitlock, are all of these really coming out?”

Bennett answered for me. “We’re out of time. There’s no other way.”

“Let’s just get through the ceremony first. We’ll talk about everything at home. You can be as mad as you want then, and I’ll make it up to you.”

Nine minutes.

Then, from inside the room came the small crash of a cup hitting the floor. Under it, Sloane crying, muffled.

“Bennett? Am I making trouble for you?”

His whole face changed. The key card was out and the door open before anyone could blink.

I stepped forward at the same time. He shifted sideways and blocked the gap.

“Don’t go in.”

“My dress is in there.”

“She’s not stable right now. You walk in there, and you’ll set her off.”

“Bennett. I’m the bride.”

“I KNOW.” It was the first time he’d ever raised his voice at me. “Everyone downstairs is waiting because you’re the bride. So act like one.”

Then he was inside, and the door slammed.

The lock clicked. Locked again, with me on the wrong side.

Through the door, Sloane’s voice came wet with tears. “Why don’t you let Maren in? I can hide in the bathroom.”

And Bennett… I’d never heard him sound that gentle. That patient.

“You’re not hiding anywhere. None of this is your fault.”

“Eat your oatmeal. I’ll take care of everything out here.”

“But it’s her wedding day…”

“Maren’s always been understanding. I’ll explain it all when it’s over.”

Every single one of us in that hallway heard them.

My mother’s tears spilled over.

That was when I finally understood. My parents, three hundred guests, the wedding he’d gutted line by line, me—we were all things Bennett could manage. Sloane was the one he had to protect.

Five minutes.

The DJ was already trying to stall the crowd over the speakers. Applause rolled up from the ballroom in waves.

My father folded the speech back into his pocket. His voice came out low. “Maren. Do you still want to marry this man?”

I stared at that closed door.

Seven years ago, when Bennett was chasing me, he swore I’d always be his first priority.

Then Sloane came back from abroad.

Her relationship blew up, and he walked out on my birthday to drink with her. She moved apartments, so he missed my dad’s birthday dinner to haul her boxes. She called at midnight because she was scared. He drove clear across Briarhaven, east side to west.

Every single time, he asked me to understand.

And I did. Right up until today, our wedding day, where he finally put me behind her for good.

My mother took my hand.

My father’s voice didn’t waver. “Don’t you worry about us. A marriage like this isn’t worth having.”

The radio crackled one last time. “Three minutes. The bride needs to be ready to walk. Now.”