I Prepared Our Wedding, For His Another Bride Chapter 05

I Prepared Our Wedding, For His Another Bride Chapter 05

Cyrus slammed the phone down, the device burning hot against his palm. He stared at the blacked-out

screen, his thumb rubbing anxiously over the phone’s edge over and over.

Bianca wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin lightly on his shoulder.

Her voice soft and syrupy sweet. “Baby, what was that about a miscarriage?”

Cyrus didn’t answer, his brows drawn tight into a heavy frown.

Bianca stepped around to stand in front of him, tilting her head to study his tense expression, then let out a

scoff. “You can’t possibly be that upset over this, can you?”

She snatched his phone out of his hand and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa.

“First she trips and loses a baby, then a flower stand falls and suddenly she’s pregnant again and loses it too

-what’s next? Choking on water and losing a third baby?”

She met his eyes, grinning playfully. “Baby, you can’t fall for the same trick three times in a row. She’s just pulling this stunt to make you run back and coddle her.”

Cyrus’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The faint flicker of panic in his eyes faded, slowly swallowed up by mounting

irritation.

He bent to pick his phone back off the couch and let out a cold huff. His thumb hovered over the screen for a

beat before he typed three sharp text messages.

[Elowen, how far are you going to take this tantrum?]

[How many fake tragedies are you going to make up to get attention today?]

[If you want to leave, just go. Stop using your body as a bargaining chip.]

He hit send, locked the screen, and flipped the phone face-down on the coffee table.

Bianca leaned against the arm of the sofa, watching the dark screen with a faint, satisfied curve to her lips.

Cyrus didn’t glance at his phone again, his eyes squeezed shut-no one could tell what thoughts were

swirling through his head.

The next day, Bianca dragged Cyrus to the venue to finish wedding decor setup. She stood on her tiptoes hanging sheer white draping, glancing back at Cyrus every few seconds.

He’d spent the entire morning arranging flower bouquets, but his face was blank, none of the excitement he’d had the day before.

“Baby, can you come pull the left side of this drape straight for me?”

Cyrus nodded and walked over. He stared at the fabric for two seconds, then pulled his phone out of his

pocket instead.

The screen lit up, then faded dark again-no new notifications.

Bianca snatched the drape out of his hands and smoothed it out herself. “What’s gotten into you today?

You’re totally distracted.”

Cyrus locked his phone and mumbled a quiet “nothing.”

His fingers stayed resting on the power button, tapping the screen awake every few seconds without

realizing he was doing it.

Bianca handed him a glass of water, smiling sweetly. “Are you thinking about Elowen?”

She paused, adding the line like a casual afterthought. “Funny how she hasn’t called you once, isn’t she?”

Cyrus’s brows furrowed automatically, his thumb rubbing at flower sap stuck on his fingertips. “I’ve got somewhere to be. We can finish decorating another day.”

He took one step toward the door, then paused. “You wanted Elowen to shoot our wedding, right? I’ll go find

her and bring her back.”

Cyrus stormed out of the venue, leaving Bianca standing alone behind him.

He pushed open the door to our shared hotel room and froze the second he stepped inside.

The nightstand was bare. Every tiny wedding trinket I’d brought, were gone.

The only leftover thing was the trash can, holding the ring I’d carved with both our names.

Cyrus spun around once in the middle of the room, his chest heaving violently.

He pulled out his phone and dialed my number. It rang once before the line cut off automatically.

He tried a second time. Same thing-dead air, then disconnected.

Third attempt. Still no answer.

He dragged his thumb down the contact list and hit call again.

Nothing. Not a single call got through to me.

Cyrus spun in a slow circle in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling with ragged, heavy breaths.

Elowen had told him once she’d hand-make a ring to tie us together forever. Now the ring was in his grasp-

but she hadn’t handed it to him. He’d fished it out of a trash bin.

Cyrus’s mind went completely blank.

Elowen hadn’t reached out to him once these past few days; all he’d heard was Bianca’s constant chatter.

Wedding day arrived.

Bianca twirled in her white gown in front of the makeup vanity, the skirt flaring out around her.

She leaned into Cyrus’s reflection in the mirror, her eyelashes fluttering. “Baby, do I look beautiful?”

Cyrus met her gaze in the mirror and nodded faintly.

“Are you excited to marry me in this dress?” She tilted her head, hooking a finger through the collar of his

shirt to tug him closer.

Cyrus opened his mouth to reply when his phone vibrated once in his pocket.

He pulled it out and scanned the message from his best friend Leo instantly: [What’s going on between you and Elowen? She just canceled the entire New York wedding venue deposit with the hotel-they called me to confirm the booking’s off for good.]

All the soft warmth drained straight from Cyrus’s face as he stared at the text.

Bianca tugged at his sleeve, whispering to ask what was wrong. He didn’t answer, shoving the makeup room door open and striding outside fast.

Bianca chased after him, her wedding gown tangling around her ankles. She grabbed handfuls of her skirt and called after him, begging him to stop-but Cyrus never looked back.

On the plane ride home, Cyrus sat pressed against the window, his fingers tangled hard in his hair until his

knuckles turned white.

Seattle shrank smaller and smaller below the clouds, Leo’s text looping over and over in his head.

Elowen canceled the entire New York wedding venue.

He replayed every memory: her crumpled on the floor under the flower stand, barely able to speak when he’d demanded she shoot Bianca’s wedding, the police officer’s words confirming the termination.

He squeezed his eyes shut, cold sweat coating his palms. He couldn’t bear to think any deeper into what he’d

done.

When he finally got back to his apartment, he twisted the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

The shoe rack by the entryway was empty. All the succulents she’d nurtured, their ceramic pots and all, were

gone without a trace.

Cyrus pushed open the bedroom door.

The closet hung half-open; the walk-in wardrobe she’d treasured above everything else was completely bare

He slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside the doorframe, the apartment deathly quiet around him.

He grabbed his phone again, desperate for an answer.

He dialed her number over and over.

Every single call went straight to the same automated recording: “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is

currently unavailable.”

Cyrus slammed the phone down, the device burning hot against his palm. He stared at the blacked-out

screen, his thumb rubbing anxiously over the phone’s edge over and over.

Bianca wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin lightly on his shoulder.

Her voice soft and syrupy sweet. “Baby, what was that about a miscarriage?”

Cyrus didn’t answer, his brows drawn tight into a heavy frown.

Bianca stepped around to stand in front of him, tilting her head to study his tense expression, then let out a

scoff. “You can’t possibly be that upset over this, can you?”

She snatched his phone out of his hand and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa.

“First she trips and loses a baby, then a flower stand falls and suddenly she’s pregnant again and loses it too

-what’s next? Choking on water and losing a third baby?”

She met his eyes, grinning playfully. “Baby, you can’t fall for the same trick three times in a row. She’s just pulling this stunt to make you run back and coddle her.”

Cyrus’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The faint flicker of panic in his eyes faded, slowly swallowed up by mounting

irritation.

He bent to pick his phone back off the couch and let out a cold huff. His thumb hovered over the screen for a

beat before he typed three sharp text messages.

[Elowen, how far are you going to take this tantrum?]

[How many fake tragedies are you going to make up to get attention today?]

[If you want to leave, just go. Stop using your body as a bargaining chip.]

He hit send, locked the screen, and flipped the phone face-down on the coffee table.

Bianca leaned against the arm of the sofa, watching the dark screen with a faint, satisfied curve to her lips.

Cyrus didn’t glance at his phone again, his eyes squeezed shut-no one could tell what thoughts were

swirling through his head.

The next day, Bianca dragged Cyrus to the venue to finish wedding decor setup. She stood on her tiptoes hanging sheer white draping, glancing back at Cyrus every few seconds.

He’d spent the entire morning arranging flower bouquets, but his face was blank, none of the excitement he’d had the day before.

“Baby, can you come pull the left side of this drape straight for me?”

Cyrus nodded and walked over. He stared at the fabric for two seconds, then pulled his phone out of his

pocket instead.

The screen lit up, then faded dark again-no new notifications.

Bianca snatched the drape out of his hands and smoothed it out herself. “What’s gotten into you today?

You’re totally distracted.”

Cyrus locked his phone and mumbled a quiet “nothing.”

His fingers stayed resting on the power button, tapping the screen awake every few seconds without

realizing he was doing it.

Bianca handed him a glass of water, smiling sweetly. “Are you thinking about Elowen?”

She paused, adding the line like a casual afterthought. “Funny how she hasn’t called you once, isn’t she?”

Cyrus’s brows furrowed automatically, his thumb rubbing at flower sap stuck on his fingertips. “I’ve got somewhere to be. We can finish decorating another day.”

He took one step toward the door, then paused. “You wanted Elowen to shoot our wedding, right? I’ll go find

her and bring her back.”

Cyrus stormed out of the venue, leaving Bianca standing alone behind him.

He pushed open the door to our shared hotel room and froze the second he stepped inside.

The nightstand was bare. Every tiny wedding trinket I’d brought, were gone.

The only leftover thing was the trash can, holding the ring I’d carved with both our names.

Cyrus spun around once in the middle of the room, his chest heaving violently.

He pulled out his phone and dialed my number. It rang once before the line cut off automatically.

He tried a second time. Same thing-dead air, then disconnected.

Third attempt. Still no answer.

He dragged his thumb down the contact list and hit call again.

Nothing. Not a single call got through to me.

Cyrus spun in a slow circle in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling with ragged, heavy breaths.

Elowen had told him once she’d hand-make a ring to tie us together forever. Now the ring was in his grasp-

but she hadn’t handed it to him. He’d fished it out of a trash bin.

Cyrus’s mind went completely blank.

Elowen hadn’t reached out to him once these past few days; all he’d heard was Bianca’s constant chatter.

Wedding day arrived.

Bianca twirled in her white gown in front of the makeup vanity, the skirt flaring out around her.

She leaned into Cyrus’s reflection in the mirror, her eyelashes fluttering. “Baby, do I look beautiful?”

Cyrus met her gaze in the mirror and nodded faintly.

“Are you excited to marry me in this dress?” She tilted her head, hooking a finger through the collar of his

shirt to tug him closer.

Cyrus opened his mouth to reply when his phone vibrated once in his pocket.

He pulled it out and scanned the message from his best friend Leo instantly: [What’s going on between you and Elowen? She just canceled the entire New York wedding venue deposit with the hotel-they called me to confirm the booking’s off for good.]

All the soft warmth drained straight from Cyrus’s face as he stared at the text.

Bianca tugged at his sleeve, whispering to ask what was wrong. He didn’t answer, shoving the makeup room door open and striding outside fast.

Bianca chased after him, her wedding gown tangling around her ankles. She grabbed handfuls of her skirt and called after him, begging him to stop-but Cyrus never looked back.

On the plane ride home, Cyrus sat pressed against the window, his fingers tangled hard in his hair until his

knuckles turned white.

Seattle shrank smaller and smaller below the clouds, Leo’s text looping over and over in his head.

Elowen canceled the entire New York wedding venue.

He replayed every memory: her crumpled on the floor under the flower stand, barely able to speak when he’d demanded she shoot Bianca’s wedding, the police officer’s words confirming the termination.

He squeezed his eyes shut, cold sweat coating his palms. He couldn’t bear to think any deeper into what he’d

done.

When he finally got back to his apartment, he twisted the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

The shoe rack by the entryway was empty. All the succulents she’d nurtured, their ceramic pots and all, were

gone without a trace.

Cyrus pushed open the bedroom door.

The closet hung half-open; the walk-in wardrobe she’d treasured above everything else was completely bare

He slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside the doorframe, the apartment deathly quiet around him.

He grabbed his phone again, desperate for an answer.

He dialed her number over and over.

Every single call went straight to the same automated recording: “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is

currently unavailable.”