My Fiancée's Wedding Detour

24 wedding cars continued slowly up along the winding mountain road.

Two of my groomsmen, Walter Wilson and Joshua Gunn, stood with their arms crossed, growing increasingly frustrated.

Walter finally spoke up. "Emma, we've already backed up more than 12 miles. At this rate, we're going to end up right back at your front door!"

Joshua shook his head. "Seriously. The road isn't even that narrow. We could've easily pulled over and let them pass."

With every mile we retraced, the disappointment in my heart grew heavier.

Finally, Joshua got out of the car to speak up for me.

"Emma, don't you know that wedding processions aren't supposed to retrace their route? We've already backed up more than 12 miles. How much farther are we supposed to go?"

Emma Carter, my fiancee, sensed the tension and hurried over. She lifted the hem of her wedding dress as she approached.

She leaned toward my car window, her face so close that I could see the faint tremor in her eyes. Normally, even the slightest hint of her gardenia perfume would've been enough to completely disarm me, but not anymore.

"Nathan, just hang in there a little longer. Once we reach the next turnoff, we'll stop backing up."

I glanced toward the wedding car across from us. Ryan Mitchell was sitting inside, watching the scene unfold, his smile mocking.

"Do whatever you want," I said.

Emma's smile faltered. Clearly, she hadn't expected me to answer that way.

Her bridesmaids immediately crowded around her.

Lena Williams spoke first. "Nathan, don't be mad. The road's too narrow for both convoys to get past each other, so we don't have a choice. We have to back up."

Selena Addams quickly chimed in, saying, "Exactly. We're closer to the turnoff anyway. Backing up is the fastest way to get everyone moving again."

Claire Gomez nodded. "Yeah, Nathan. Don't give Emma the cold shoulder. She's in a tough spot, too."

I let out a cold laugh.

"Weren't there two turnoffs just a minute ago? Why haven't any of you suggested backing up in the other direction?"

The bridesmaids fell silent. They exchanged awkward glances before slowly turning toward Emma.

Emma took my hand and explained softly, "Nathan, this is my fault. I didn't plan the route properly. Once we get home, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

Was it really poor planning? Or had she deliberately chosen this route just so she could see Ryan off?

I quietly released the breath I'd been holding and shook my head. I didn't have the energy to argue anymore. "Forget it, Emma."

The bridesmaids completely missed the tension in my voice and immediately started praising me instead.

Claire smiled. "See? I knew Nathan would understand. He's always so considerate of Emma."

Lena laughed. "Aww, look at him giving us all this PDA. Guess we don't even need to say anything anymore."

Still laughing and joking, they pulled Emma away and continued directing the wedding cars to make room for Ryan's convoy.

Meanwhile, my phone started buzzing nonstop with incoming messages. They were all from the same person.

"Nathan, I thought you had more backbone than this. Guess even on your wedding day, you still have to make way for me.

"Heh. I didn't even have to say anything, and Emma cleared the road for me. Anyone who didn't know better might think that I was the groom."

Then Ryan sent me a screenshot of a social media post Emma had just made.

The caption read, "If I can't marry you, then I'll at least pave the way for you."

I looked at the road ahead.

More than 12 miles of it had been covered in a pristine red carpet, turning the winding mountain road into a path fit for a wedding.

My nose stung, and my hands trembled uncontrollably.

I forced down the anger rising in my chest and called Emma, who was near the back of the procession.

"Emma, stop the convoy. We're not backing up anymore."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the line.

"Nathan, just two more miles. We're almost at the turnoff—"

I hung up and took a deep breath, thinking:

'Emma, from this moment on, I'm done waiting for you at my own expense. '