I Prepared For My Wedding, Only To Be Shut Out Of My Own Bridal Suite Chapter 08

I Prepared For My Wedding, Only To Be Shut Out Of My Own Bridal Suite Chapter 08

Her voice jumped an octave. “You can’t be serious.”

“I was serious on the wedding day.”

After the call, I took the ring back to the jeweler’s.

Our initials were engraved inside the band: his and mine. The engraving meant they’d only buy it back for a

fraction of what we paid.

The sales associate winced a little. “This was custom–made. You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The buffing wheel started up. Fine gold dust lifted off the band. Letter by letter, our initials wore down to nothing.

I’d braced for it to hurt. Watching the letters vanish, all I felt was calm.

The worst of it was already behind me.

The worst was him blocking that door, telling me Sloane couldn’t be disturbed.

The worst was him cutting my father’s speech while remembering her oatmeal couldn’t go cold.

The worst was those last three minutes, my own wedding dress shoved into my arms like I was the one holding everything up.

The ring was just the shell the relationship left behind.

Three days later, Bennett was waiting for me outside the jeweler’s. Word traveled. His face was thunderous.

“You sold the ring?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?”

“It was my ring. Why would I need your permission?”

He had no answer for that.

Then he softened his voice. “Maren. I talked to Sloane. I’m done getting involved in her life.”

“We’ll do the wedding over. New hotel, new coordinator, new florist. The hotel suite goes in your name only. Nobody else gets through that door.”

I stepped around him and headed for the parking lot.

He followed. “What else do you want from me? I said I was wrong. People make mistakes, Maren. Seven

years, and you won’t give me one chance?”

I stopped walking.

“Seven years ago, when you were chasing me, I had a fever, and you stood outside my dorm all night.”

“I mentioned once, in passing, that I liked the pecan pie from south Briarhaven. You rode a bus two hours to

get it.”

“The first time you met my parents, you spent a month picking out gifts because you were terrified of getting

it wrong.”

“Back then, you never once told me to be mature. To be understanding.”

Bennett’s eyes went red.

“Then Sloane came back from abroad.”

“Her relationship ended, so you drank with her until morning. She moved, and you skipped my father’s

birthday dinner to help her move.”

“She called at midnight, scared. You drove across all of Briarhaven. I called three times from a hospital bed. You didn’t even call back until the next day.”

“And every time, you told me she had no family here. That she needed you more.”

“I wasn’t born understanding, Bennett. You conditioned me to be. Every time Sloane showed up, I came second. Lesson learned.”

His lips moved. “Taking care of her was just a habit.”

“You made her your priority. You made me your collateral damage.”

“I’ll change. I have changed.”

“You didn’t have a sudden change of heart. You changed because losing me finally cost you something.”

All the color drained out of his face.

I kept walking.

He didn’t follow this time. He just called after me. “Is there really no chance left?”

I didn’t turn around. “Three minutes before the ceremony, I gave you one last chance. You shoved my

garment bag into my arms yourself and told me to hurry up.”

Before the house went on the market, I went back once to collect my things.

I’d spent almost two years building that place. The balcony tiles were my pick. The light over the dining table took me five stores to find. In the master closet, I’d left a whole section empty for Bennett’s ties.

The house was dark when I let myself in.

Bennett sat on the bare bedroom floor, the mattress gone, a cardboard box open in front of him.

Our whole seven years were in there. Movie stubs, trip photos, anniversary gifts, the letters I used to write him.

He looked up. His voice was barely there.

“You really don’t want any of this?”