He Picked Up Another Woman on Our Wedding Day Chapter 04

He Picked Up Another Woman on Our Wedding Day Chapter 04

The cursor was blinking when a horn sounded downstairs.

Jenna ran to the window and looked down, her face changing as she took in the scene.

“The cars are here.”

My mother stood at the bedroom doorway, still holding the veil she’d just folded.

My father didn’t walk to the window. He only asked, “Who’s in the car?”

Jenna stared out the window for a long moment, then said through gritted teeth, “Shelby’s in it too.”

My phone buzzed. Ryan was calling again.

This time I answered.

“Natalie, I’m downstairs,” he said, not waiting for me to respond. “Don’t do this, okay?”

“If your parents are still upset, I’ll come up and apologize. But just come down first—the time is almost up.”

I walked to the window.

The red lead car was parked at the curb. The doors hadn’t opened.

Shelby sat in the backseat by the window, clutching an extra bouquet. When she saw me looking down, she looked away.

Ryan stood beside the car, his suit jacket unbuttoned, looking up at my window.

The lead car my parents had waited all morning for—and Shelby was in the backseat.

Ryan said again, “Natalie, just get your parents to come down. If they won’t get in the car, it’s going to be awkward for everyone at the venue.”

I asked, “You still think I’m the one who needs to do the explaining?”

“That’s not what I meant. Your parents are still upstairs, the relatives are all here—just come down. Don’t make everyone wait like this.”

My mother caught his words. The veil slipped from her hand, one corner trailing on the floor.

She took an unconscious step toward the door, then stopped.

I held her back.

“Mom. Don’t go down.”

My father looked at her too.

“The envelope’s put away. The parasol’s put away. What are you going down for?”

Murmurs drifted up from outside. I could make out fragments—”The groom’s here… why isn’t she coming down?”

Messages started flooding the family group chat.

[Did the cars get here?]

[Is the pickup still happening?]

[The venue is asking for updates.]

The coordinator sent a private message.

[Ms. Moore, the groom is downstairs. If we continue, the parents’ handoff and blessing toast can only be filmed in a compressed time frame.]

My mother saw the words “blessing toast” and reached into her bag, then quickly pulled her hand back.

Ryan’s voice dropped lower. “Natalie, just come down, okay? If your parents don’t get in the car, everyone down here will see. Don’t put them through that.”

My mother’s tears fell all at once—she didn’t sob, just turned her face away.

My father had woken up at five that morning to clean the decals on the car doors.

My mother had placed the blessing envelope in the outermost pocket of her bag, worried she’d fumble when the time came.

They’d been waiting for the doorbell. For him to stand at the door and call them Mom and Dad.

Not for me to lead them downstairs and fill in a missing shot for a car that had already picked up Shelby.

Ryan was still saying my name through the phone.

“Natalie, listen to me,” he said, his voice strained. “I know this looks terrible. But I’m here now. Just come down—don’t keep everyone waiting. We can figure the rest out later.”

The lead car sat at the end of the aisle runner. The doors hadn’t opened. Shelby was still inside.

The videographer’s lens was still aimed at our front door.

The coordinator held her radio, the other end still asking when the bride would come out.

If I walked down, everyone would pretend the car had just been late.

My mother pressed her hand against the envelope in her bag. Her knuckles went white.

I didn’t reply to Ryan.

Instead, I typed one message and sent it to both group chats:

[The wedding is canceled.]

[That car picked up someone else first. I won’t walk out to it.]

The honking downstairs stopped.

The silence that followed was louder than anything.