He Gave Her a Three-Day Honeymoon, Yet Called One Day With Me a Waste of Time Chapter 01

He Gave Her a Three-Day Honeymoon, Yet Called One Day With Me a Waste of Time Chapter 01

Grant Mercer was the kind of man who divided his calendar into fifteen-minute blocks. He was a founding partner at a corporate law firm in Chicago, and his phone was always packed with client calls, partner meetings, and due diligence deadlines.

When it came time for us to get legally married, he said making an appointment at the Cook County Clerk’s office and waiting in line would be a waste of time.

That night, he used AI to create a beautifully framed “commemorative marriage certificate” with our names and photos on it.

“Legal documents are just pieces of paper.” Grant handed me the frame. “What matters is that we know we’re serious about each other.”

I looked at the certificate that had absolutely no legal validity and stopped arguing with him.

When I had a high fever and went to a clinic for an IV, he stayed for five minutes before he started checking the time, eager to leave.

The first time he had a proper dinner with my parents, he talked with them for less than ten minutes before saying a client emergency had come up and leaving early.

I had always known that work came before everything else for him.

One of the reasons I fell for him was because he seemed steady and focused. He didn’t chase distractions, flirt with other women, or waste his energy on anything outside his career.

At least, that was what I had always believed.

On my birthday, I called and asked if he could come home early and have dinner with me.

His refusal was immediate.

“Babe, I really can’t tonight. We’re closing a deal for a client. I can’t leave everyone hanging just because it’s your birthday.”

An hour later, I saw him on the second floor of the mall.

He had my close friend, Sophie Lane, pinned against the wall outside a jewelry store, kissing her.

I stopped beside the escalator and stared at them for several seconds, too stunned to even remember where I had been going.

Just then, the coordinator from our wedding venue called to ask whether I was finally going to confirm the wedding date.

I called Grant.

From one floor away, I watched him look down at his phone.

He stared at my name for a full five seconds before finally answering.

“What is it?”

“We need to finalize the wedding date.”

Grant frowned.

“A wedding takes up an entire day from start to finish. At least twenty-four hours.”

My grip tightened around my phone.

“Grant, I’ve been planning this wedding for a year.”

He was silent for two seconds.

“Fine. I’ll give you an answer tonight.”

That night, his so-called answer was a link.

[I used AI during a break at work today to create a full wedding simulation. It has everything—the schedule, the venue, the vows. Haven’t you always wanted to see our wedding? This is enough. What matters is that we’re together. The ceremony doesn’t need to be so complicated.]

I opened the link.

Grant was the groom in the video.

But the bride was Sophie.

At the bottom of the page was a private group chat his friends were using.

[Grant, This AI wedding simulation looks way too real. It’s basically you and Sophie tomorrow.]

[You two are actually getting married tomorrow? Elena isn’t going to suddenly show up, is she?]

[No,] Grant replied. [I made an AI version for her too. She’ll probably be satisfied with it.]

[LMAO. She accepted an AI marriage certificate, so an AI wedding should be enough to keep her satisfied too. When are you going to tell her the truth?]

A few seconds later, Grant sent another message.

[Sophie can’t carry a pregnancy herself. She’s always wanted to be a mother. Once Elena has the baby, I’ll take care of everything.]

I stared at the screen, my hand frozen over my phone, unable to scroll any further.

Then a new message from Grant appeared.

[I booked your fertility clinic intake for tomorrow. Go get the tests done and ask about the IVF process. You know I don’t like wasting time on this kind of thing. The clinic will explain all the steps.]

The pieces finally came together.

Grant didn’t actually hate wasting time.

He just refused to spend any of it on me.

…

At ten that night, he sent me another message.

[I’m not coming home tonight. Go to sleep.]

I sat in our dark bedroom and cried the entire night.

The next day, I put on sunglasses and a mask and followed the address from the private group chat to their wedding.

I had genuinely planned to walk inside and expose everything in front of everyone.

I wanted his friends, colleagues, and clients to know that Grant had gone behind my back to marry my close friend while planning to use me to have the child they wanted.

But the moment I stepped into the hotel ballroom, I saw my parents.

I stopped dead.

Why were they at Sophie’s wedding?

Why hadn’t a single person told me?

I retreated to a lounge area beside the ballroom.

At that moment, I didn’t feel like a guest.

I felt like a stranger who had wandered into the wrong place.

Grant walked toward the lounge while talking on the phone.

I immediately lowered my head and pretended to look at my phone.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his shoes and suit trousers.

He was wearing the dark gray suit I had helped him choose on Michigan Avenue two weeks earlier.

At the time, I had thought he would look incredible wearing it at our wedding.

Now I was finally seeing him in it.

The only difference was that I wasn’t the bride.

Grant spoke into the phone.

“That client is landing today?”

“You handle them first. I’m getting married today, so don’t schedule anything for me for at least three days. Also, redistribute my internal meetings for the next six months among the other partners. My wife and I are going on our honeymoon.”

I kept my head down.

I didn’t look up or move away.

Whenever I had a fever, a birthday, dinner with my parents, or even needed him to come with me to sign the venue contract, Grant had always said work couldn’t wait.

Yet now, for Sophie, he could push back an important client, rearrange six months of meetings, and clear his schedule for a honeymoon.

It had never been that he didn’t have time.

He just never thought I was worth making time for.

His footsteps suddenly came closer.

“Why does this person look kind of familiar…?”

I immediately turned my face away and even softened my breathing, afraid he might recognize me.

Just then, Sophie walked over.

“Grant, don’t tell me you’re still working today.”

Grant turned toward her, and the serious tone he had been using on the phone instantly softened.

“Just wrapping up a few things.”

He showed her his phone screen, then switched it off completely.

“See? It’s off.”

Sophie smiled.

“Aren’t you worried Elena will try to reach you?”

Grant tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“No. I sent her to the fertility clinic. She always does what I ask.”

Several of their friends gathered around them.

One of them laughed.

“Sophie, you look incredible today. I doubt Grant’s going to be thinking about his emails tonight.”

Another person joined in, teasing them.

Then someone suddenly asked, “What if Elena actually shows up?”

Grant’s voice remained perfectly calm.

“The housekeeper messaged me half an hour ago and said she left home heading toward the clinic. I told her a long time ago to let me know whenever Elena changed her plans. It’s been like this for years. She’s never discovered anything about Sophie and me.”

Only then did I understand why Grant had always seemed to know almost everything about my whereabouts.

The housekeeper who came to our home twice a week had been taking Grant’s money all along.

And reporting my every move to him.