He Chose My Sister on Our Wedding Day—So I Walked Away Chapter 02

He Chose My Sister on Our Wedding Day—So I Walked Away Chapter 02

A sour ache rose in my chest.

Before the wedding, I’d wanted to move into our new condo and decorate it myself.

I’d moved my luggage in.

But Grant said he’d handle the decorating, and told me to rest.

Only now did I understand.

All those weeks, he’d been living there with Delaney.

A flicker of guilt crossed Grant’s eyes.

“Delaney has a long commute, and staying at the condo saved her a lot of time.”

“I was afraid you’d misunderstand, so I didn’t mention it.”

Mom was heartbroken that her precious daughter was on her knees on the floor because of me.

“Maren Whitlock! On your wedding day, you make your own sister get down on her knees. What more do you want?”

“You’ve ruined this wedding. Do you want the whole family to be humiliated?”

I laughed out of sheer disbelief.

“You all think I’m the one who ruined it?”

Grant and Mom answered in unison.

“Who else?”

The absurdity washed over me. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Delaney suddenly pulled free of Grant, covered her mouth, and ran for the restroom.

Grant chased after her.

Mom shot me a vicious look, and the relatives followed.

I pushed open the ballroom doors.

The ninety-nine balloons I’d tied by hand into an arch had all been popped.

The centerpieces I’d chosen, the place cards I’d written out, the photos I’d pinned to the wall one by one, all of it lay in the trash.

The overhead lights fell on my white face.

So one offhand remark from Delaney could destroy everything I’d poured myself into.

I pulled out my phone, tore the monogram sign off the middle of the stage with my own hands, and sent a photo to the family group chat.

[The wedding is canceled.]

Grant was too busy comforting Delaney to reply.

Mom was furious.

[Maren Whitlock! If you walk out that door today, don’t you ever come back!]

[Fine.]

I pushed open the hotel door and didn’t look back.

Twenty-six years, and this family had never once accepted me.

Then I didn’t want it either.

I went to the condo to collect my suitcase.

The whole building was covered in congratulations banners and white ribbons, all the way down to the lobby.

At the entrance, I stopped.

A huge wedding decal was stuck across the glass door, with two names side by side.

Grant Ashcroft.

Delaney Whitlock.

I stared at it for a few seconds and suddenly laughed.

I should have known.

From start to finish, this wedding was never meant for me.

In the kitchen I found my suitcase. It was stuffed with trash.

Used wet wipes, cotton pads, opened snack bags.

In the bedroom, a set of damp handprints had appeared on our framed engagement portrait.

I hadn’t shed a single tear since dawn.

Now they poured out.

My phone buzzed nonstop in my pocket.

The family group chat was past 99+.

More than a dozen missed calls.

When I took it out, Grant was calling again.

The moment I picked up, his voice exploded in my ear, full of anger.

“Where are you? Delaney cried so hard she hyperventilated. She’s in the hospital.”

“The first thing she said when she woke up was to ask if you were still mad at her.”

“Maren, are you happy now?”

This time I didn’t answer. I hung up.

In the group chat, Mom had posted a video.

The hospital lobby. Delaney leaning against Grant, shaking with sobs.

“Maren, please forgive me. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have ruined your wedding…”

Grant patted her back gently.

Mom’s voice came from off camera.

“Don’t cry, Delaney. It’s not your fault.”

The relatives’ voices piled on top of each other.

“Maren is too much. Making a scene on a day like this.”

“Such a sweet girl, Delaney. Even taking the blame on herself.”

“What would it cost the older sister to give in once?”

When the video ended, a message from Grant popped up.

[Maren, apologize to Delaney and we’ll put today behind us.]

Mom followed right after.

[Maren, come out here!]

[Your sister is crying so hard she can barely breathe. We’re family. Do you have to tear us apart?]

I said nothing.

I lifted my phone and filmed the condo in one slow sweep.

I started at the entryway, moved to the engagement portrait in the bedroom, and ended on the glass door.

I gave the decal, and the two names on it, a three-second close-up.

“Congratulations to Grant Ashcroft and Delaney Whitlock. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.”

Send. Leave chat.

One smooth motion.

I had saved the down payment on this condo. I had taken out the mortgage.

The monthly payment came out of my account.

I refused to let an outsider live in a home I was paying for.

I opened a real estate listing site, uploaded the floor plan, and posted the condo for sale.

I priced it $15,000 below market.

In the notes, I wrote one line:

[Urgent sale. Cash offers preferred. Showings any time.]

My phone exploded.

Grant’s messages came one after another.

“Maren, you’ve got the wrong idea.”

“Delaney stuck that decal up as a joke. She’s just young.”

“The handprints on the portrait were from the movers. They bumped it by accident.”

I gave a cold laugh, dug through my contacts, and found the number of my company’s HR department.

Last month, the company had offered two relocation assignments.

I’d turned them down to prepare for the wedding.

“Give me the Port Halden project.”

There was a pause.

“Aren’t you getting married today? Your honeymoon leave was already approved.”

“There’s been a mix-up. It was my sister’s wedding, not mine.”

“All right. Be in Port Halden within a week. I’ll have my assistant book your flight.”