He Canceled Our Wedding 18 TIMES for His Bestie Chapter 03

He Canceled Our Wedding 18 TIMES for His Bestie Chapter 03

I went home, booked my ticket, and packed the essentials into my suitcase.

Then I went around the entire apartment and took down all thirty-six chiming clocks one by one.

Along with every outfit and accessory he’d prescribed for his idea of a perfect girlfriend, I tossed them all in the trash.

All those restraints I’d worn to meet his standards, I wouldn’t need anymore.

I zipped my suitcase shut and let out a long breath.

I was just about to call Griffin and end it when my phone rang.

“Hello? Is this Mr. Griffin Montgomery at 3 Willow Creek Lane, Apartment 501? Your chicken noodle soup is here, but security won’t let me up. You’ll have to come down and get it.”

My stomach dropped. A knot of suspicion tightened in my chest.

That was the house Griffin and I had bought together for our wedding seven years ago.

But because of his perfectionism, we couldn’t move in until the wedding actually went through.

So we’d lived in a rental all these years, with an agreement to keep boundaries in place.

I drove over and found the door was slightly ajar.

Through the crack, I heard a woman’s teasing voice. “This is all your fault. You kept deducting my bestie’s points, and now she’s stormed off. We didn’t even get a group photo!”

A thumping noise followed, and Griffin laughed. “You little lush!”

“Fine, my fault. Tell you what—I won’t dock her for forgetting the photo cue.”

He caught her flailing feet with a grin, rubbing them gently.

His eyes brimmed with tenderness.

So he did know how to take care of someone.

But when I’d gotten drunk once and leaned against him, he’d kicked me out of the rental. Told me to sober up outside before coming back in.

Fourteen degrees Fahrenheit. Cold enough that I never touched alcohol again.

And now he was crossing every boundary himself, bringing a drunk woman into our dream home, letting her make a mess of everything.

I pushed the door open. Griffin’s head snapped toward me.

A flash of panic crossed his face. When he saw the delivery bag in my hand, his brow furrowed with irritation.

“According to the Rule Three of the Perfect Girlfriend Handbook, you should respect my privacy before marriage.”

“Snooping on my delivery. Minus ten.”

No explanation. Just blame.

Something absurd settled in my chest, and suddenly I felt so tired.

If two people weren’t in sync, every word was just white noise.

“Griffin, we’re over…”

Before I could finish, Mirabelle lurched toward me, half-conscious.

“Don’t you dare take points off Sandra!”

She stumbled, shoving Griffin aside, and grabbed my hands.

“Bestie, you didn’t even take a picture with me today. Are you mad at me?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your wedding. Here, take the ring back, let’s make up!”

She fumbled with the wedding band, trying to slide it onto my finger, just missing every time.

The alcohol smell hit my nose. I tried to pull away, annoyed.

Then a sharp sting shot through my fingertip.

Griffin shoved me hard, sending me stumbling back. He grabbed Mirabelle’s hand instead.

The way he looked at me, you’d think I was some kind of monster.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Sandra?”

The cry caught in my throat, choking me.

He kicked the bloodstained ring across the floor, then carried Mirabelle to the couch, grabbed the first-aid kit, and started wrapping her finger.

The blood came from my hand. It could’ve been wiped away in an instant.

He wrapped five layers of gauze around her wound anyway.

Then, as if remembering something, he scooped Mirabelle up and rushed out the door.

“I’m taking her for a tetanus shot. You go back to the rental and think about what you did!”

“The wedding’s postponed indefinitely until she forgives you!”

He was gone in a flash, and his words scattered in the dust he left behind.

“Griffin,” I whispered into the empty room, “I’m the one who’s hurt.”