He Saved A Spot For Her, Leaving No Room For Me Chapter 04

He Saved A Spot For Her, Leaving No Room For Me Chapter 04

I started canceling the wedding.

The hotel manager gave me a sympathetic look. “Ms. Bennett, the main hall materials were confirmed last night. Dismantling today will incur fees.”

I said, “Dismantle it.”

She hesitated. “Maybe take a look first?”

I pushed through the ballroom doors.

The big screen was looping the digital invitation.

The cover: Ethan and Tessa.

The welcome sign read: Mr. Ethan Sullivan & Ms. Tessa Harris.

And my name had been moved to the “Bride’s Side” guest list.

Turns out I’d been turned into a guest.

The coordinator went pale. “Ms. Bennett, this was the final version Ethan confirmed from his account last night.”

I video-called Ethan and pointed the camera at the sign.

“Ethan, who’s the bride at this wedding?”

Silence on his end.

Then Tessa’s flustered voice came through. “Ethan, I was just trying to help adjust the seating chart—I didn’t know the system would save it.”

Ethan’s voice was strained. “Iris, I’ll handle it right now.”

“Are you coming here?”

He paused.

Tessa started crying again. “Ethan, my wrist hurts.”

Ethan shut his eyes briefly. “I’ll call the coordinator and pause everything first.”

“So you’re not coming.”

“Iris, do you have to push me right now?”

“Yes.” I said it word by word. “I’m forcing you to choose.”

He was silent for a long time.

Then, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He hung up.

When my uncle got to the ballroom and saw the welcome sign, his face went pale with rage. “Tear it down. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

Ethan’s mother arrived with relatives.

She saw the sign and sneered. “Looks fine to me.”

“At least Tessa knows how to behave—unlike some people who make a scene just because a man likes them.”

I didn’t say anything. I opened the joint account.

Wedding fund balance: $237.

$36,000 had been transferred out last night.

Recipient: Tessa Harris’s personal account.

Label: Studio startup funds.

Eighteen thousand of that was the last payment from my mother’s death settlement.

I’d set up that account myself, for renovation convenience.

I thought it was trust.

He used that trust to pave Tessa’s road.

I called Ethan. “How dare you touch my mother’s money?”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “I lent it to Tessa—her studio would’ve lost the deposit today.”

I laughed so hard I cried. “My wedding falls apart and you don’t care. Her studio can’t fall apart.”

He said, “I’ll pay it back.”

“When?”

“When her project gets funded.”

I said it word by word, “Return the eighteen thousand by noon tomorrow, or I’m filing a police report.”

His voice went cold. “Iris, what happened to you? Since when is money more important than a person?”

I hung up.

That night, I went back to my Maple Street walk-up.

Ethan was standing there with two officers.

Tessa hid behind him, shaking and sobbing. “Iris, I know you hate me.”

“But why did you send my wrist photo to the wedding group chat?”

In the group chat, a picture of Tessa’s cut wrist had been sent out.

The sender was the small account I’d used to coordinate with the wedding vendor.

Below it was a line: [If you wanna be the bride, then die first.]

The password for that account was my birthday. I’d never logged out of my old tablet.

I looked at Ethan. “That wasn’t me.”

Ethan’s eyes were full of disappointment. “Iris, when did you become this cruel?”

I pulled up the login records.

Device: Ethan’s old tablet.

Location: The Pines.

“The tablet’s at The Pines. Tessa’s been using it.”

Tessa sobbed and shook her head. “I didn’t, Iris.”

Then she started gasping, collapsing into Ethan’s arms.

He caught her. When he looked up again, his eyes were cold as ice. “Iris. Apologize.”

“No.”

Seeing I wouldn’t back down, Ethan’s expression turned unreadable. He handed a paper to the officers. “Officers, I have evidence she needs counseling. I was planning to take her.”

I stared at the paper in his hand. A chill ran through me.

That was from last week—when I broke down during wedding prep, crying that I didn’t want to go through with it.

Ethan had held me and said, “Don’t be scared—I’ll find someone for you to talk to. Just to relax. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

So his care could also become proof that I was the unstable one.

The officer said, “Ms. Bennett, please come with us for a statement.”