Uninvited Groom: I Turned This Wedding Down

When the refund countdown dropped to nine minutes, Celine Payton took my phone from me.

She warned, "Don't do anything rash. Those train tickets were hard to get."

She looked down to check the booking, and after confirming that all eight seats were still there, she visibly relaxed.

I looked at her. "Are you afraid I'll cancel them?"

"You're angry right now. Once you've cooled down, you'll regret it," she replied.

"What will I regret?"

"Ruining everyone's trip."

She closed the refund page right in front of me.

My older sister, Joanne Sharp, happened to be over for a free meal that weekend.

She sat at the dining table peeling an orange, trying to talk me down. "Celine will be with you every day after you get married. It's only three days. You're a grown man. Don't keep such a tight leash on her."

"I never said she couldn't go," I replied.

"Then why are you making that face?" Joanne asked.

The orange peel snapped between her fingers.

She frowned, just like she always did when she thought I was being immature. "Henry, you always have a way of making a small matter awkward for everyone."

Celine put my phone back in my hand, and then transferred 600 dollars to my bank account.

The tickets came to a total of 500 dollars.

The extra 100 dollars came with a note from her that read, "Don't be mad anymore. Buy yourself something you like."

I sent it back.

Celine gave a quiet laugh. "There he goes again."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You say you don't want something, then wait for me to coax you. Henry, I know this routine by heart."

She said it softly, even reaching up to straighten my collar.

The gesture was so familiar that my body moved before my mind did, and I leaned away from her hand.

She hesitated for a moment. "Fine. Take some time to cool off. We still have to try on clothes for our engagement photoshoot. Don't forget about it."

Joanne checked the time and picked up her bag to leave. "I should get going. Oh, and the sun is strong at the beach. I gave Mike that new sun-protective shirt you got me. His skin gets irritated easily."

I looked up. "Didn't you say you weren't going?"

"I couldn't make the schedule work. I was the one who abstained," she said matter-of-factly. "I didn't vote against you. Isn't that enough for you?"

So even the abstention hadn't been Celine's.

I looked at Celine.

She was silent for a moment, a hint of impatience flashing across her face. "Does it really matter who voted for what? The result is the same."

"Then why did you say you abstained earlier?" I asked.

"I was afraid you wouldn't let the matter drop, so I just said it," she replied.

She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

Then she poked her head out and asked, "What do you want for dinner? I'll make a reservation."

She acted as if that poll had never happened.

I didn't answer and went back to my bedroom.

At the back of my closet sat a small metal box.

Inside was a ticket Celine had left behind seven years ago, when she had traveled from the neighboring city to see me.

We were in a long-distance relationship then. Every time she came to see me, she'd mail me her return ticket.

The last time, she didn't.

She pressed the ticket into my hand and said, "You won't have to wait for an envelope anymore. I'm moving here to be with you."

There were words she had written on the back of the ticket all those years ago.

It read, "Return Date."

I ran my fingers over the faded handwriting and slipped the ticket into an empty envelope.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

It was a message from Eddie Smith, my company's editor-in-chief.

"The Norwell branch still needs someone to run it. You said you weren't interested the last time because you were getting married. The position is still open for you. Let me know by tonight."

Three months ago, I had turned it down for Celine.

In the living room, she was sending the ticket details to everyone going on the trip.

No one asked why I wasn't going.

I typed a short reply. "I accept."

The message was sent just as Celine walked in.

She glanced at the envelope in my hand and smiled. "Are you looking through the old tickets to make yourself feel better again? Come on, I'll take you to a new place for dinner tonight. That's enough already."

I pushed the envelope into the drawer.

She didn't know that this time, I was going to mail that ticket with the words "Return Date" back to her.