His Childhood Sweetheart Erased Our Wedding-So I Married Someone Else Chapter 01

His Childhood Sweetheart Erased Our Wedding-So I Married Someone Else Chapter 01

The night before our church wedding, both families were having dinner together when Lila Vance, Gavin Cole’s childhood friend, suddenly shoved open the door to the private dining room.

“Gavin, you can’t marry her tomorrow!”

Gavin shot to his feet.

Lila opened her palm, revealing half an eraser.

“Before college application season, you cut this eraser in half and told me that as long as I held on to my half, I could erase any decision you made. Now I want you to take one last drive with me along the scenic mountain highway out West. Think of it as… finally closing the Chapter on the promise we made when we were young.”

Her eyes were red, and her voice choked with tears.

Both sets of parents fell silent.

My name was Erin Carter. Gavin and I had been together for four years, and I was supposed to marry him the next day.

I knew that eraser better than anyone.

The first time Lila used it was after Gavin’s graduate school application was rejected and he shut himself inside our apartment for days.

She held up the eraser and erased his decision to accept the job offer. Then she dragged him to bars night after night while I worked several part-time jobs just to cover our living expenses.

The second time was when Gavin’s father was admitted to the ICU. She erased Gavin’s decision to stay and care for him.

At the same time, my father was undergoing brain surgery at another hospital. Because I stayed with Gavin’s father, I never got to see mine one last time.

This was the third time.

Both families’ expressions darkened. Everyone expected Gavin to refuse her immediately.

Instead, he turned to me, his eyes pleading. “Give me one month. I swear I’ll come back and marry you. This will be the last time.”

All at once, I was exhausted.

If Lila could always decide the course of his life whenever it mattered most, then I would no longer be part of that life.

…

No one in the room spoke.

My mother slammed down her fork and sprang to her feet, pointing straight at Gavin. “What the hell did you just say? Your wedding is tomorrow, and now you’re asking my daughter to wait another month?”

Gavin did not look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on me.

I knew that look too well. He was waiting for me to make excuses for him and smooth things over, just as I had done for the past four years.

Lila lowered her head and clenched the half eraser as tears slid down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have come. I’ll leave.”

She turned toward the door, then stumbled as if she had done it deliberately.

Gavin caught her on instinct, right in front of my entire family.

My mother shook with rage, unable to force out a complete sentence.

Only then did Gavin seem to realize what he had done. He let go of Lila, turned to me, and lowered his voice.

“Erin, you know me. I didn’t mean anything by it. I have to honor the promise I made back then. I’ll drive that mountain highway with her and come straight home. I won’t stay away a single day longer than I have to.”

I stared at him.

Four years ago, after his graduate school application was rejected, he drank in our apartment for three days. I took away the bottles, cleaned the apartment, and took care of everything that came afterward.

He had bought that alcohol with money from my part-time jobs.

Three years ago, when his father was hospitalized, I spent seven days outside the ICU. Because of that, I never got to see my own father before he died.

Two years ago, Gavin stayed up all night working on a design proposal and injured his back. I supported him down four flights of stairs because the building had no elevator, then called an ambulance.

Ever since then, my lower back had hurt whenever it turned cold or rained.

And Lila?

Lila had done nothing but hold an eraser.

Again and again, she overturned Gavin’s decisions. Piece by piece, she destroyed the relationship between Gavin and me.

When I finally spoke, my voice was calmer than I had expected.

“Fine. Go with her.”

My mother whipped around. “Erin, have you lost your mind?”

I rested a hand over hers and shook my head.

Gavin froze, then visibly relaxed. He even reached out to ruffle my hair, but I leaned away before he could touch me.

His hand stopped in midair, embarrassment flickering across his face. Lila cleared her throat almost at once and pulled his attention back to her.

I stood, picked up the church’s final confirmation for the next day’s venue and ceremony, tore it in half, and dropped it into the trash.

Before leaving the private dining room, I looked back once.

Lila was gazing at Gavin through swollen, tearful eyes. She mouthed a quiet, “Thank you.”

The tenderness in Gavin’s expression made him look like a stranger.

In four years, he had never looked at me with that kind of softness.

I left.

The carpet swallowed the sound of my footsteps, but I drove each step into the floor.

When I reached the parking lot, I did not cry.

I took out my phone and opened the message Noah Reed had sent three days earlier.

“I heard your wedding is tomorrow. Congratulations. But if anything goes wrong, call me anytime. I’ll pick up.”

Three days ago, I had thought he had no right to interfere in my life.

Now I called him.

The phone rang once before he answered. After two seconds of silence, his steady voice came through.

“Erin?”

It was eleven thirty at night, and he had picked up almost immediately.

“Noah, is that project you mentioned still available? I may need to travel for work for a month.”

I heard a chair scrape across the floor on his end.

“I’ll send you the itinerary in ten minutes.”

He did not ask why. He did not ask what had happened.

After we hung up, I opened my chat with Gavin and unpinned it.

The car was silent except for the low rush of air from the vents.

I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment. My phone lit up with a message from my mother.

“Come back here right now.”

I replied, “Mom, I’m fine.”

The screen lit again. Noah had sent an itinerary detailing every flight, hotel, and meeting time for each day.

At the bottom, he had added, “No rush to reply. Get some rest first.”

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

In the rearview mirror, the restaurant sign grew smaller and smaller.

The man inside had filled four years of my life, yet he had looked relieved at the thought of leaving with his childhood friend.

It no longer mattered.

The wedding dress hanging in my closet could go back tomorrow.