He Thought I’d Beg, Until I Cancelled Our Engagement Chapter 01

I reserved a private dining room for our Thanksgiving dinner, with a name card at every seat so no one would sit in the wrong place.

Then came the day I went to pay the deposit.

I walked around the table three times without finding my name.

“Where’s my seat?”

My fiancé, Ethan Cole, looked surprised.

“You love taking care of people, don’t you? So I left you off. You can pass the food around. That way, both families can relax.”

His childhood friend was already in the seat right beside his.

“Claire, if you’re serving, you get to taste everything first. Ethan’s so good to you. I’m almost jealous.”

I looked at the seating chart Ethan put together.

Even his family’s Labrador had a mat at the corner of the table.

But there was no place for me. His fiancée.

I spent two days on a waitlist, and I wasn’t even going to sit down to eat.

I booked a holiday dinner for everyone, only to stand beside the table and watch them eat.

At that point, the food stopped mattering.

What mattered was the man I planned to marry.

Not once did he think I belonged at that table.

Back home, my cursor hovered over the option to cancel the private dining room.

Fine. Then there wouldn’t be a Thanksgiving dinner.

***

I was one click away from canceling when Ethan pulled the mouse out of my hand.

“Don’t do anything rash. It’s hard to get a private dining room at the Whitmore.”

He bent over the reservation page. His shoulders relaxed visibly when he confirmed the refund didn’t go through.

I looked at him. “You’re afraid I’ll cancel?”

“You’re upset right now. Once you calm down, you’ll regret it.”

“Regret what?”

“Ruining Thanksgiving for both families and embarrassing our parents.”

Then he shut down the computer right in front of me.

My phone lit up with a bank-transfer notification.

Eleven hundred dollars.

The deposit was a thousand.

The extra hundred came with a two-word memo: [Errand fee.]

I sent it back.

He gave a quiet laugh. “Here we go again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“First you say you don’t want it, then you freeze me out, then you wait for me to sweet-talk you. Claire, I know the routine.”

His voice was gentle. He even reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear.

The gesture was so familiar that I leaned away before I could think, dodging his hand.

He paused for two seconds.

“Okay. Take some time to cool off.”

My phone buzzed on the table. My older sister.

[The wedding date’s set. Don’t blow this out of proportion.]

[Ethan has our parents to look after, and Nat just went through a breakup. Be a little more understanding. Don’t make this awkward for everyone.]

I could practically see her frowning through the screen, judging me for not knowing better.

Ethan glanced at my screen. When I stayed quiet, he took it as a sign I was ready to let it go.

He turned to pour a glass of water, then suddenly remembered something.

“By the way, I did that seating chart myself. Spent the whole afternoon on it.”

“Both families. I didn’t leave a single person out.”

He poked his head around the corner. “Where do you want to go after dinner to see the skyline? That overlook on the South Side’s nice. I’ll reserve a spot.”

He acted like that seating chart without my name never existed.

I went into the bedroom without answering.

An old ledger lay at the bottom of the desk’s lowest drawer.

Inside was a record of every loan he took from me when he started his business five years earlier.

His company was bleeding money back then. I worked two jobs and cut back on food to cover the shortfall.

He carefully recorded every dollar in that ledger.

He handed me the ledger, his eyes red.

“Claire, once I get through this, you’ll be my one and only. I could live without anyone else, but not you.”

The last page bore the four-word promise he made back then.

[I’ll never fail you.]

I ran my fingers over the writing on the yellowed page and slipped the ledger into a manila envelope.

My phone buzzed again.

A message from my boss.

[The Pittsburgh branch needs someone to take over a major project. You passed last time because of the wedding, but the position’s still open for you. I need an answer tonight.]

Two weeks earlier, I turned it down to focus on the wedding.

In the living room, Ethan texted both families, checking each person’s Thanksgiving food preferences and dietary restrictions.

He remembered everyone’s preferences.

No one asked whether I’d get tired standing there serving food.

I typed three words in the chat with my boss.

[I’ll take it.]

Ethan opened the door just as the message went through.

He glanced at the manila envelope in my hand and smiled.

“Getting all sentimental over that old ledger again? I’ll take you to a steakhouse tonight. Let it go, okay?”

I pushed the envelope to the very back of the drawer.

He had no idea that this time, I was ready to get rid of that old ledger. And him along with it.