Chapter 4

Phoebe handed me the tablet.

The reception homepage no longer showed a photo of Stefani and me. It had been replaced with a solo portrait of Wesley.

[Your Groom] was gone. In its place was one line:

[May every regret be met with kindness.]

"Who picked that caption?"

Phoebe glanced toward the door.

"Ms. Lundberg approved it just now."

Stefani walked in carrying a cup of warm water. She handed it to Wesley, then looked at me.

"Nate, good. You're here. Wesley's support group is coming, so I already added seats for them."

"What about my coworkers and friends?" I asked.

She shrugged it off. "They can sit farther back. Wesley's friends aren't in great health, so they need to be closer to the entrance."

I looked at the names shoved into the corner of the seating chart.

My college roommate.

The professor who'd once praised my paintings.

The only former coworker I'd invited.

Stefani gave my wrist a gentle squeeze. "A wedding is for the guests. Don't stress over the seating, okay?"

Wesley sat in his wheelchair, his eyes reddening again. "Nate, are you still mad at me? Maybe I shouldn't come."

Mom immediately glared at me. "Wesley's pushing himself just to attend your wedding. What more do you want?"

I pulled my hand from Stefani's grip. "I never said he couldn't come."

Stefani gave a satisfied nod. "That's better."

At lunch, Wesley suddenly clutched his chest and started gasping.

He said a specialist in the next city could see him, but the only opening was the morning of our wedding.

Mom panicked and grabbed my arm.

"Nate, cancel the daytime garden ceremony. Move it indoors tonight. Stefani and the rest of us need to take Wesley to Dr. Morgan. No one's going to deal with your wedding on top of that."

Stefani didn't hesitate.

"An evening ceremony works better anyway. It'll be too windy outside for Wesley. We'll be back that afternoon, so nothing will be delayed."

I looked at her. "So we're skipping the first look, family photos, and the outdoor shoot?"

Her voice stayed soft. "They're just formalities. You've always been the understanding one. I knew you'd be fine with it."

I nodded. "Fine. We'll do it that night."

She relaxed. "Don't be so cold. After the wedding, I'll get you a new pair of cuff links."

I said nothing.

That evening, I went back to the apartment, opened my laptop, and changed my train ticket to Linden Bay to ten on the morning of the wedding.

Then I scheduled a secondhand pickup for six-thirty the next morning.

Once everything was set, I tucked the old paintbrush into the bottom of my suitcase.

***

Wedding morning arrived.

Stefani helped a bundled-up Wesley into the car. Mom carried his medication bag while Dad rushed the driver.

Stefani rolled down the window and looked at me.

"Take a cab to the hotel and get ready. Be good. Tonight, I'll give you a wedding you'll never forget."

Leaning against her shoulder, Wesley gave me a faint smile.

"Thanks for all the hard work, Nate."

After the car disappeared, I went back upstairs.

The secondhand pickup crew arrived right on time.

Clothes, books, everyday stuff—even the pothos plant—went with them.

The apartment was empty in no time.

The "Future Mr. and Mrs." decal still clung to the window, almost mocking me.

At ten, the train pulled out of the station.

I deleted Stefani's number and my parents' contacts, deactivated every social media and messaging account, pulled out my SIM card, and dropped it into a trash bag.

***

Third-Person POV

At seven that evening, the hotel lobby glowed with light.

Stefani wheeled Wesley through the entrance while his parents walked beside them, wearing tired but composed smiles.

The wedding coordinator spotted them and hurried over.

"Ms. Lundberg, the groom never showed up! His phone's off, and no one can reach him!"