He Gave My Wedding to His Childhood Sweetheart, So I Disappeared

1: 1

At our tenth engagement party, Luke Gilbert's bipolar childhood friend took one look at the guests filing in, broke down sobbing on the spot, and smashed the whole spread of dishes and glasses across the floor.

I rushed to stop her, and a jagged shard sliced open my arm. The pain went straight through me.

But my fianc lunged forward and shoved me away, staring at her reddened palm like it broke his heart, and roared at me:

"I told you her nerves are bad. Couldn't you just give in to her? Would it kill you to skip a little ceremony?"

He scooped her up and walked off without a backward glance, leaving only one line behind.

"The wedding is postponed indefinitely. And write me another ten thousand words admitting your fault. Think long and hard about what you did wrong."

Every guest froze where they stood, all of them turning pitying eyes on me. But I laughed.

Seven years together. Once, we went out shopping, and his childhood friend cried for three days and three nights.

After that, every single outing had to be cleared with her three days in advance.

If it wasn't, I'd be punished with another ten-thousand-word confession.

In seven years I'd filed those requests with her a thousand times over, and every time she turned me down.

This time, for the wedding, I'd asked half a year ahead and coaxed and pleaded for weeks.

Luke swore up and down that she'd agreed.

But now, looking at the wreckage scattered across the floor, all I felt was numb.

So it turned out that no matter how hard I tried, I would always be Luke's second choice.

Luke's assistant found me easily, a mocking look on his face.

"Miss James, Mr. Gilbert sent me to collect your apology letter."

I took the paper and pen he held out.

The next moment, in front of everyone, I tore them to shreds.

The assistant stood frozen, his face gone gray.

I placed the engagement ring in his palm and looked calmly at the crowd.

"I won't be writing her any more apology letters."

This wedding, I'm calling it off.

A love I have to beg for, I don't want it anymore.

...

I turned to the guests and raised the microphone.

"Please, eat and drink well. You'll have to excuse me now."

When I got into the car home, Luke's calls came in one after another.

I didn't answer a single one. I hung up on every one.

It wasn't until the taxi driver ahead quietly passed me a tissue

that I realized my face was already wet with tears.

For seven years, whenever Luke and I went out, Rosalie James always had to come along.

Once, at the movie theater, Luke kissed the side of my face.

The next moment, Rosalie burst into tears and dropped to her knees in front of everyone.

"Please stop clinging to Luke, please. I'm on my knees begging you."

My mind went blank, and on instinct I reached out to help her up.

But she suddenly went wild and viciously tore at my clothes.

"Why do you have to be the other woman, wedging yourself between us? Have you no shame?"

In that instant, the whole room turned to look at me.

Some people even started taking pictures of me.

I stumbled backward, my heart nearly bursting with pain.

But Luke pulled her into his arms and murmured, "Don't be scared. I'm right here."

He didn't so much as glance at me. He shielded her and left first.

It was a long time before he came back for me, choking up as he held me, crying, saying so many things.

"Her mother died saving me. I owe that debt. I have to repay it."

That was when I learned that in the last second before the crash, Rosalie's mother had pushed the young Luke out of the way.

And so he owed her for the rest of his life.

Luke's face twisted in pain. "If you can't stand it, we can break up."

My heart went soft then. I wanted to stay and help him get through it.

I thought a debt of gratitude had to end somewhere. But now I finally understand. It's Luke himself who never let go.

No one could ever pull him away.

My phone was still lighting up with messages from Luke. It was a red marriage certificate.

In the picture, Luke had his arm around Rosalie, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

"You upset Rosalie badly today. I couldn't calm her down no matter what I tried."

"So I've taken her to get the license first."

"Later, once you come to your senses, I can give you a wedding to make up for it. Only there can't be any other guests, and Rosalie can't ever find out."

The corner of my mouth curled into a mocking smile. But he didn't know: I won't be waiting around for his next time.

I don't want him anymore.

2: 2

When I wouldn't pick up, he texted me:

"It was just to keep her happy, that's all."

"Fern, don't make this hard for me."

He sent a photo. It was the wedding venue we'd spent half a year building together.

"It's only a marriage license. You're still the one I love most."

"Didn't you say you wanted to get married somewhere full of happiness? I had all the lilies you love shipped in for you."

The lilies stood there in the venue, thick and fragrant, quietly open. I looked at them for a long moment.

I thought about how happy I'd been setting up that place, how I'd chosen the very best of everything.

Back then I'd truly believed that after a seven-year courtship, we were finally landing on solid ground.

Instead I got this careless, ugly little ending.

The next day, I meant to tell my parents I was calling off the engagement.

But my mother only got in a few nervous, comforting words before she hung up in a rush.

My father didn't pick up at all.

So I called my best friend. She was always soft-spoken, but this time there was an edge of impatience in her voice.

"Fern, I'm swamped right now, can you not"

She cut herself off. But I'd already heard it. Wedding music, playing in the background.

It was my favorite song.

My chest went tight. I quickly opened her feed and found a photo of her and Rosalie together, captioned:

"Here to witness your happiness. How could I not cry?"

But the second my finger touched it, the whole feed went blank.

She'd blocked me.

I stood where I was, and my head went to static.

A friend called me on video, her face grim. "Fern, don't be angry."

In the venue I had chosen, Rosalie came walking slowly out, wearing the wedding gown I'd spent half a year making by hand.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, overcome, and watched Luke drop to one knee and slide a DR ring onto her finger.

The cold crept up my fingertips, inch by inch.

That ring was the couple's design I'd spent half a year choosing.

The kind a man can only ever buy once in his life, against his own ID.

Luke had picked it out for me once. He'd said, "This ring is only for you to wear."

Now that ring sat snug on Rosalie's finger.

A perfect fit.

I remembered how he'd taken the ring back saying it needed to be resized smaller, and handed me some cheap ring he'd bought off the street instead.

So it turned out it never needed resizing. It had never been meant for me at all.

Below the platform, my best friend was wiping my mother's tears, and my mother was clapping with everything she had.

My father's eyes were wet, and his fingers trembled as he took the tea Rosalie offered him.

He said:

"If only you were my daughter. So sweet, so hardworking."

But my mother looked at my best friend, worried.

"Fern won't find out, will she?"

My best friend's tone was gentle. "She's probably still off sulking somewhere."

"It's fine, we'll just have Luke go coax her a little later."

"Anyway, she's like a dog. No matter how you shoo her, she won't leave."

"It was the same when she was my friend back in grade school, and it's the same now that she's dating Luke."

"Besides, Luke already got the license with Rosalie, and she still hasn't broken up with him, has she? Worst case she throws a little fit."

My mother, hearing this, wasn't angry at all. She nodded, relieved.

"Good, then."

Just then Luke glanced toward the edge of the stage, and for a moment he looked lost.

Something closed around my heart like a fist.

Those were the plush figures I'd bought on purpose, the anime character I'd loved for ten years.

Luke had once lined up three days to get them for me. They were his token of our love, too.

I'd set them at the edge of the stage to mark our seven years.

But Rosalie looked at the figures and frowned.

Luke came back to himself and threw them into the trash without a second's hesitation.

There was a knife lodged in my throat. I couldn't get a single word out.

My mother glanced at the figures and kicked them farther away, frowning. "A grown woman, still this childish. Upsetting Rosalie over nothing."

My father looked at Luke and sighed.

"Fern doesn't have an ounce of sense. Walks around every day with a dead face on. If I were you, I wouldn't have picked her either!"

So it turned out the people closest to me had all betrayed me.

So it turned out everything I was, in their eyes, didn't weigh as much as a single one of Rosalie's tears.

"Driver, don't take me to that hotel after all."

Suddenly there was no point in going.

I changed the destination to the apartment Luke and I had bought for our marriage, meaning to pack up my things and go.

At the same time, I opened the work app.

The company had wanted to transfer me abroad. To stay a little closer to my family and to him, I'd turned it down again and again.

But this time, I pressed "Accept."

3: 3

I got back to the wedding suite to find the door shut.

The second I opened it, streamers rained down and covered my head and face.

Luke stepped slowly out from behind the door in a navy suit, his eyes soft.

My mother watched me, hopeful.

My best friend stood there holding a bouquet for me, smiling.

For that one moment, I actually thought this was a surprise they'd planned for me.

Then Luke saw it was me, and the softness drained out of his face all at once, replaced by nothing but irritation.

He knotted his brows and yanked me inside.

"I already told you this was to give Rosalie some closure. Are you really this shameless, so desperate to get married you came rushing back?"

My mother dropped her head and pretended not to see. My best friend looked at the fallen streamers with pity.

"That's Rosalie's favorite color. What was the point of her barging in and ruining everything, wasting all of this."

Then a soft, thin voice came from behind me, thick with tears.

"Fern, are you angry with me? Should I just die?"

She was still in the wedding dress, still wearing the flower crown, her eyes red as she looked at me, timid.

Luke had woven that crown by hand.

Before the wedding, I'd once caught him weaving a flower crown in secret, pricking his fingers over and over.

My heart had gone sweet then, and I'd spent so long quietly looking forward to it.

I let out a bitter laugh.

So it turned out even something that cheap and worthless wasn't mine either.

I dug out the suitcase I'd packed long ago, the one I'd prepared for our honeymoon with Luke.

As it happened, all my documents were inside.

Rosalie's eyes reddened, and she pointed at the suitcase.

"Fern, are you trying to make everyone think I'm the one who drove you away?"

My father watched her with an aching heart, rushed over, and slapped me hard across the face.

"You just had to wreck this?"

My head snapped to the side, the taste of blood spreading through my mouth.

My best friend pulled him back, but he kept jabbing his finger at my face, still cursing.

"Fern, she may be a sponsored student, but she's not one bit beneath you."

"You've spent this family's money your whole life. What did all that schooling teach you, except how to be jealous of people?"

"She is a hundred times more obedient and sensible than you."

And my fianc, Luke, just stood there watching quietly. He shielded Rosalie and eyed me warily.

"Fern, you're the one being unreasonable today."

"No wonder your dad's furious. Apologize to Rosalie, now."

Rosalie shook her head and dropped to her knees in front of me, kowtowing and crying as she spoke.

"Fern, I know you came for your wedding dress. I'm not worthy of wearing it."

She clawed the ring off her finger, letting her knuckle bleed.

Then, with trembling fingertips, she reached for the zipper of the dress.

Luke couldn't stand to watch any longer. He pulled her into his arms, his voice pained.

"Don't punish yourself. It isn't your fault."

My best friend sighed and gave me a helpless look. "You wrecked something that was going perfectly. I really give up on you."

"Are you satisfied now?"

I looked at these family members and friends who had become strangers.

And suddenly I laughed.

My voice came out hoarse. "No, I'm not."

My mother planted herself in front of Rosalie like a hen guarding her chick, crying as she looked at me.

"What more do you want? You've all but driven Rosalie to her death."

"Back in school we wanted to sponsor her, and you were jealous. You tore up her homework on purpose, you stripped her and bullied her, and now you're still jealous."

"How did I ever end up with a daughter like you."

I stood where I was, and all I could feel was how absurd it was.

The one whose homework got torn up, the one who was bullied, was me.

I looked at Luke.

We'd grown up together. He knew all of it, perfectly well.

He'd even chased off the ones who tormented me, once.

He'd picked up my pen and notebook for me, wiped the mud off my face.

"How can your family play favorites like that."

His eyes had gone red with the ache of it.

"From now on I'll protect you. I won't let you be wronged again."

But that boy, the one who had looked at me with nothing but tenderness, couldn't tear his eyes away from Rosalie the first time he saw her.

Even then, I'd known that vow had shattered in the end.

Now Luke avoided my eyes and frowned.

"Mom and Dad are right. Rosalie is just like a daughter to them. All these years living under someone else's roof, having to read your moods, has been hard enough on her."

"Can't you just show her a little understanding?"

I gave a self-mocking smile and nodded.

"Fine. I'll show her understanding."

Before anyone's face could relax.

I turned to my parents. "I'm being transferred overseas. I probably won't be back for ten years."

My eyes stung, but I kept my voice light.

"Since you love her so much."

"Then let her be your daughter."

I pulled off that flimsy little ring and threw it at Luke's feet.

"Here, take it back. We're even."

"I'm calling off the engagement. Marry whoever you want. That's what understanding looks like."

Nothing between us, nothing owed. That's the only outcome I'll be satisfied with.

4: 4

With that, I turned and walked out.

A strip of confetti had caught in my hair, its edge pricking the corner of my eye, and I couldn't stop the tears from coming.

My father lunged again to hit me, and the others held him back.

They said, "Let it go, let it go. Don't waste your temper on someone like that."

My mother's voice shook. "We really did raise you for nothing."

My steps paused for a beat. I didn't turn around.

Rosalie dropped to her knees, her voice thick with tears.

"Mom, Dad, whatever Fern won't do, I'll do it."

I looked back and saw Luke watching me, his brow drawn tight.

My parents looked at Rosalie sobbing, snot and tears everywhere, as if their own daughter were the one being married off.

My best friend came over and grabbed my arm, frowning.

"Fern, why make such an ugly scene? How are you going to face each other after this?"

Calmly I pulled my arm free, looked her in the eye, and gave a small smile.

"No need. There won't be any 'after this.'"

Her face went very ugly. Her lips moved.

In the end she said nothing.

On the way to the airport, Luke kept texting me.

"Rosalie's been crying for ages. Her depression's flaring up again. You've put everyone in a bad mood."

"You're about to give your mother a heart attack, and you're just going to walk off like this?"

But my fingertip tapped into Rosalie's feed instead.

She'd just posted a photo with my parents, sunlight bright over all of them.

She sat between my mother and father, smiling gently.

The caption:

Some people are the family you were born to have.

My parents had liked it first thing.

Not a ripple moved in me.

I liked it too.

Then I sent Luke one line.

"Your happinessI'm done being the one watching from the side."

Then one tap, and I blocked him.

I shut off the phone and walked into the airport without looking back.

On his end, Luke was busy handling the wedding formalities and soothing Rosalie, and didn't see that text until evening.

His brow knit on instinct, but he chose not to reply.

My best friend leaned in, a trace of worry in her voice.

"Fern's phone stopped going through this afternoon. She's not really that angry, is she?"

Luke looked at the text that stung his eyes, tugged at his suit tie, and spoke with the same certainty as before.

"No."

He glanced at my parents.

"She can't bear to leave."

My friend's frown eased too. "Even if she's mad at the two of us, there's no way she'll stop worrying about her parents."

There was something almost smug in her tone as she went on.

"Fern just looks tough. She's actually soft-hearted."

"When has a little sweet-talking from you or me not smoothed her over?"

Luke's tight brow smoothed out as well.

He nodded.

He thought of the first time he saw Rosalie, how he'd let his mind drift.

Fern had cried for a long time then too.

But back then a little coaxing had been enough, and she'd forgiven him anyway.

"Luke, you're all I have."

Remembering that, Luke felt a good deal lighter.

On the sofa, Rosalie's eyes were red as she looked over at him.

"Big sister really isn't angry with me?"

She lowered her head, gripping the wedding dress, tears swimming in her eyes.

"It's all this illness of mine."

"I just wanted to know what a wedding felt like before I die."

She bit her lower lip and glanced at my parents.

"To feel what it's like to be loved by family. Just this one day, and my sister couldn't even stand it?"

My mother's heart broke to hear it, and she quickly pulled her into her arms.

"That Fern doesn't know how to behave. We spoiled her rotten since she was small."

My father sighed and shook his head along with her.

Luke forgot about the text entirely, sat down beside her, wiped her tears away with his large hand, and said gently,

"I'll make her come back and apologize to you."

"She was the one in the wrong here to begin with."

My best friend held her arm too, aching for her, and blamed herself.

"It's my fault for not keeping an eye on her and letting her ruin your wedding."

Luke let out a breath. "It's nothing. It's just a wedding."

"If Rosalie wants, I'll throw her as many as she likes."

My parents nodded, comforted.

"Exactly. That Fern's just stubborn with her mouth. In a couple of days she'll come scurrying back begging us to forgive her."

"When she does, I'll make her apologize to you properly."

But several days passed, and there was no word from me.

Luke looked at the last text I'd sent him and felt a wave of irritation.

He wanted to reach out and say something, then feared he'd only spoil me.

Rosalie wrapped her arms around his waist, her voice soft.

"My sister's always been like this. Even as kids she'd ignore me like this."

"Just waiting for someone to coax her. I didn't think she'd still be this way now."

She let out a soft laugh.

"After all these years, she really hasn't changed a bit."

A note of urgency crept into Luke's voice.

"You mean Fern will reach out to me in a couple of days?"

Rosalie bit her lip and looked at him.

Luke's heart sank, and he quickly soothed her, his voice gentle.

"I just don't want Mom and Dad upset. She is their real daughter, after all."

Rosalie nodded obediently against his chest.

"Don't worry, Luke. I know my sister better than anyone."

Half a month went by. My parents couldn't stand to lose face any longer and hinted that Luke should call me.

Luke sighed. "True. I've let her stew long enough. She should know she was wrong by now."

So, full of confidence, he called me with the whole family watching.

The line connected with a series of rings.

But what came through was a cold, mechanical voice.

"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again."

Luke's face froze.