Locked Out of My Own Home, I Called Off the Wedding

When Julian called, I was going over the cancellation forms.

"Wren, what do you mean the wedding's off?"

I gripped my phone. "Exactly what it sounds like."

"The wedding is in 17 days. Do you know how much we'll lose in cancellation fees?"

"I know. I'll pay them."

He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had softened.

"Is this because Celia slept in our bedroom last night? She likes a soft bed. It was one night. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

I took a deep breath, my nails digging into my palm.

"You care so much about her. What about me?

"Last night I was hurting so much I couldn't stand up straight. I called you six times from outside the door. Julian, you didn't pick up once."

He paused. "My phone was on silent. I didn't hear it."

"Then you texted me to stop messing with the lock and find the building manager."

He said, "I figured you'd used the lock wrong again."

I opened my mouth, but tears fell onto the paperwork before I could speak.

The ink on the contract smeared. I hurried to wipe it with a tissue, but the more I wiped, the worse it got.

"The repairman checked. The lock isn't broken. It has four fingerprints registered: yours, Adam's, Liam's, and Celia's."

The line went silent.

"The code was changed, too," I said, my voice breaking. "All of you can come home. I'm the only one who can't."

Julian sighed. "Celia said some stranger had been knocking on the door, so I had her reset the lock. She probably forgot to add your fingerprint. I'll fix it when I get home."

"It's my house. How could she leave out my fingerprint but remember everyone else's?"

"I never said it wasn't. Just come home, okay? Don't call off the wedding over something so trivial."

I looked down. I'd been holding back the question, but I couldn't anymore. "When you realized I hadn't come home all night, did you even look for me?"

He didn't answer.

I heard Celia ask on the other end, "Julian, where did you put my medicine?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Second drawer of the nightstand."

That was where I used to keep my painkillers.

I covered my mouth and waited for the lump in my throat to ease. Then I said quietly, "Don't bother adding me."

"Wren, don't hang up. I'm coming to find you right now."

"I've already made up my mind."

"You can't just call off a wedding like that."

My voice trembled. "But you didn't ask me before locking me out, did you?"

I hung up.

Nora, the wedding planner, handed me a tissue and didn't rush me.

After a while, I finally wiped my tears. "Sorry. Please continue."

"Ms. Harper, once you cancel, we can't guarantee the original date will still be available if you rebook. Do you want to think it over?"

My pen hovered over the signature line.

Six months ago, I'd stayed up past midnight, waiting for bookings to open so I could secure our anniversary as the wedding date.

Julian had promised we'd celebrate our anniversary together every year.

"Ms. Harper?"

I snapped out of it and signed my name, my decision made.

My phone lit up. Celia had sent me a photo.

She was wearing my pajamas and sitting on the bed in the master bedroom. A photo of Julian and me was right behind her.

She wrote, "Wren, you're not mad, are you? Julian says you're not coming home tonight."

I opened the photo, closed it again, and let my finger hover over Julian's number.

When I called, I got a busy signal.

Right after that, she texted, "He says he's trying to sweet-talk you and told me not to worry."

I turned my phone face down on the table. My shoulders wouldn't stop shaking.

Nora said my name softly. Only then did I notice that I'd shredded the tissue in my hand.

"I'm fine." I sniffled. "Just refund the money to the account I paid from."

Before I left, I sent the property details to a real estate agent and texted, "I want to sell this house."

Once the message went through, I cried in the elevator.

I stayed doubled over until the doors opened again, then braced a hand against the wall and slowly straightened up.