The Skies Cleared Before Our Wedding

When Tristan Lockhart walked out of the chapel, I was looking down, drying the rainwater from my hands.

He paused mid-step, looking caught off guard. "When did you get here?"

I lifted my head to meet his gaze. "Just arrived."

Sunny Pierce trailed right behind him, a natural, easy smile plastered across her face. "Hey, Grace. We were just messing around inside. You didn't happen to overhear us, did you?"

She intentionally stepped over to my right side—the exact spot where my hearing was at its worst.

Tristan furrowed his brow and shot her a warning glance. "Stop playing."

Sunny stuck her tongue out playfully. "Fine, I'll stop. It’s just that Grace has trouble with her ears, you know? I’ll make sure to always stand on her left from now on when I speak."

She framed it as an act of pure thoughtfulness.

Yet, the surrounding groomsmen and bridesmaids couldn't help but chuckle.

I kept my eyes on Tristan.

In the past, whenever anyone dared to make a joke about my hearing, his face would instantly turn ice-cold. He was always the first to defend me.

He used to tell me that being unable to hear wasn't my fault. He said the people who lacked basic manners were the ones who should feel utterly humiliated.

But now, he merely snatched the sheet of wedding vows out of Sunny's hand and extended it to me. "Don't overthink this. She just speaks before she thinks."

I took the paper from him.

The words written across it had been completely scribbled over and defaced.

Originally, I had written: Thank you for being my right ear for over a decade.

But Sunny had altered it to read: Thank you for tolerating me as your constant complication for over a decade.

My thumb pressed against that line, the paper absorbing a faint smudge of moisture from the rain.

Noticing it, Tristan reached out to pull the sheet back. "I'll have someone print out a fresh copy for you."

I took a deliberate step backward, out of his reach. "No need."

His hand froze mid-air. "Grace."

I could tell that his irritation was rising.

"Tristan, don't be so harsh on Grace," Sunny said, letting out a soft, delicate cough beside him. "I’m sure she just feels like I'm trying to steal her spotlight today."

Tristan rubbed the space between his eyebrows in sheer exhaustion.

"Am I wrong?" Sunny asked, turning her smiling gaze toward me. "After all, everyone has been crowding around me during today's rehearsal. It’s only natural for Grace to feel a little unhappy about it."

Someone standing nearby stepped in to diffuse the tension. "Alright, let's calm down. It’s just a little pre-wedding friction."

"Yeah, don't be upset, bride-to-be. Look at how incredibly well Tristan treats you."

As if triggered by that reminder, Tristan stepped closer and reached out to grasp my hand. "Let's go. I'll drive you back home. The weather is brutal out there."

The palm of his hand was still warm.

Yet, the words he had spoken inside suddenly echoed through my mind.

[The invitations have already been sent out. What else am I supposed to do at this point?]

It turned out he wasn't marrying me because he actually wanted to.

He was doing it simply because calling it off would create a massive, messy scene.

I smoothly pulled my hand out of his grip. "No need. I'll find my own way back."

Tristan watched his empty palm, his expression instantly darkening. "What is it again?"

Again.

The moment that word left his mouth, a sharp ringing sound filled my ears. Sunny stepped forward, her voice softening into a delicate purr.

"Grace, I swear I didn't mean any harm. How about I just apologize to you?"

As she spoke, she leaned down into a dramatic bow, prompting Tristan to instantly reach out and catch her. Sunny caught his arm perfectly, leaning her weight against him as she cast a subtle wink in my direction. "See? He still worries about me."

A heavy silence descended over the entrance of the rehearsal hall.

Tristan immediately let go of her, looking incredibly self-conscious. "Grace, she's just talking nonsense."

I nodded slowly.

He kept his eyes locked on me, clearly waiting for me to break down and cause a scene.

But I didn't say a word.

I simply folded the defaced vows neatly and slid them inside my purse. "I'm leaving now."

Tristan extended his arm, blocking my path. "The wedding is in three days. Are you seriously going to pick a fight with me over a tantrum right now?"

I looked down at the luxury watch resting on his wrist. It was the birthday gift I had bought him last year.

Engraved on the inner lining of the leather strap was a short sentence.

A lifetime promise.

Back then, he had laughed and claimed it was entirely too cheesy, yet he wore it every single day.

Now, that very hand was barred across my chest like a set of heavy iron shackles.

I whispered softly.

"Tristan, I am just a little tired."

His brow knitted even tighter together. "If you're tired, go home and get some sleep. Stop acting out and throwing a fit at a crucial time like this."

Sunny peeked out from right behind his shoulder. "Grace, the wedding itinerary is going to be incredibly hectic over the next few days. If you're feeling unwell, I can easily step onto the stage and handle the rehearsal for you. Honestly, I ran through those vows pretty smoothly just now anyway."