Chapter 4: The Wedding She Cancelled

Freddie barely slept.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the message from the woman he had dated years ago. He had kept it because he never understood why she left so suddenly. At the time, his mother had told him the woman was unreliable and had decided to end things.

He had believed her.

Now Betty’s questions had opened a door he had spent years keeping shut.

At six in the morning, his phone rang.

“Freddie,” Moms said, “I need you to come home.”

He sat up in bed. “It’s too early.”

“I have something important to discuss with you.”

“Can it wait?”

“No.”

He rubbed his face. “Mom, I told you Betty and I need space.”

“This has nothing to do with Betty.”

Freddie knew that was a lie.

“I’ll come by later,” he said, and ended the call before she could argue.

He dressed, made coffee, and drove to his mother’s house. The moment he entered, he saw a stack of wedding invitations on the dining table. Several envelopes had already been opened. A folder lay beside them, filled with notes and printed documents.

Moms stood in the kitchen, arranging flowers in a vase.

“You came,” she said.

“You said it was important.”

She motioned toward the table. “Sit down.”

Freddie remained standing. “What is this?”

“The wedding arrangements.”

“I thought you cancelled them.”

“I did.”

He looked at the invitations. “Then why are they still here?”

“Because I wanted you to see what I’ve done for you.”

Freddie opened the folder. The venue had been booked, the planner paid a deposit, and a preliminary guest list had been prepared. The invitations had not been mailed, but names and addresses were already written on the envelopes.

He flipped through the pages, growing more frustrated with each one.

“Mom, you made all these decisions without asking us.”

“I was trying to help.”

“You chose a venue we’ve never seen. You invited people we haven’t spoken to. You even picked a date.”

“It was a beautiful date.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Moms placed the vase on the table. “I thought you would be happy. You’ve always wanted a proper wedding.”

“I want to marry Betty. The wedding is something we should plan together.”

Moms looked down at the folder. “So now I’m not allowed to do anything for my son?”

“You can do things for me. You can’t decide my life for me.”

She pressed her lips together.

Freddie had never seen her look so wounded by a simple boundary. A familiar guilt rose in him, but he tried to hold on to what he had told Betty the night before.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said. “I just need you to respect us.”

Moms turned away. “You’ve changed.”

“I’m growing up.”

She looked back at him. “And you think that means you don’t need me anymore?”

Freddie exhaled. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you mean.”

He closed the folder and set it down.

“I’m going to leave now.”

“Freddie.”

He stopped.

Moms’s voice had become quiet. “I will cancel the wedding arrangements. All of them. You and Betty can do whatever you want.”

He studied her face. “Thank you.”

“But don’t expect me to pretend I’m happy about it.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

He left before the conversation could turn into another argument.

Betty was at work when Freddie called.

“I spoke to my mother,” he said.

She stepped into the hallway, away from the noise of the office. “How did it go?”

“She’s cancelling the arrangements. The venue, the planner, everything.”

Betty leaned against the wall. “That’s good.”

“It is. But I don’t think she understands why she needs to do it.”

“Maybe she will, with time.”

Freddie was quiet.

“Are you okay?” Betty asked.

“I think so. I just keep remembering what she said about the woman I dated before you.”

Betty waited, hoping he would finally tell her more.

“She left me without explaining anything,” he continued. “I was devastated. Mom said she had been using me.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I did.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.”

Betty looked down at the ring on her finger. “You don’t have to figure everything out today. But if we’re going to build a life together, we need to be honest with each other.”

“I know. I promise we’ll talk about it.”

She wanted to ask him when. Instead, she said, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After the call, Betty returned to her desk. She was trying to focus on her work when her phone vibrated again.

A message from the unknown number.

You think you’ve won because he chose you. You haven’t seen what happens when he has to choose between you and his family.

Betty stared at the screen.

She had blocked the number after the first message. Somehow, it had reached her again.

Her stomach tightened.

She took a screenshot and sent it to Freddie.

A few seconds later, he called.

“Who is sending you these?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you reply?”

“Only to the first one. I told them I wasn’t returning the ring.”

Freddie’s breathing grew tense. “I’m going to find out who this is.”

“Please don’t start another fight with your mother because of a message.”

“I’m not going to let someone threaten you.”

Betty closed her eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose your family.”

“You’re not the reason. This is happening because someone refuses to accept that I can make my own decisions.”

His words comforted her, but the message remained in her mind.

That evening, Moms sat alone at the dining table.

The wedding folder was gone. She had instructed the planner to cancel the venue and return whatever deposit could be recovered. She had also told the relatives who had called that the plans were being postponed.

She had not told them why.

Her phone rang. Cynthia’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello,” Moms answered.

“I heard you cancelled the wedding arrangements,” Cynthia said.

“I did.”

“Was that your decision?”

Moms’s grip tightened around the phone. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m asking whether you’re giving Freddie and Betty a chance to plan their own wedding.”

Moms looked toward the empty chair where Freddie used to sit when he was younger.

“I have done everything for that boy.”

“I know,” Cynthia replied. “But he isn’t a boy anymore.”

Moms ended the call.

She went upstairs and opened the drawer where she kept the old photograph. She lifted it, stared at the man beside young Freddie, and felt her anger shift into something deeper.

Fear.

She had spent years making sure Freddie never had to face the truth about his father. She had told herself it was for his own good.

Now Betty was asking questions.

And Freddie was beginning to listen.

Moms put the photograph away and reached for her phone. She opened the contact she had called the previous night.

“Have you found anything?” she asked.

“Not yet,” the woman replied. “But I’m looking.”

“Keep looking.”

“Do you want me to contact Betty?”

“No.” Moms paused. “Not yet.”

She ended the call and went to the window.

Freddie had always come back to her. Even when he was angry, even when he wanted something she couldn’t give him, he had always returned.

But this time, he had left without asking her permission.