He Thought I’d Wait

Chapter 4

Ethan didn't catch the ring.

It slipped past his hand, hit the floor, and rolled under the sofa. He bent down to retrieve it. I started walking toward the door with my suitcase.

"Zara, stop." He grabbed the handle of my suitcase. "I didn't betray you. I called you before we got the license. You didn't pick up."

I pulled up my call log. At 10:12 a.m., he had called once. It rang for 7 seconds. 5 minutes later, the marriage certificate photo was taken.

"Were you asking for my consent, or were you just letting me know?"

"We were already at the front of the line, and Serena suddenly felt unwell. I couldn't make her wait."

"So you married her."

"It's temporary!"

Ethan rarely raised his voice at me. After he shouted, he went quiet first. He wiped his face, and when he spoke again, his voice was tired. "Zara, please. Don't make me choose right now. She tried to cut her wrists the night she was diagnosed. If I abandon her again, she'll really die."

"I'm not making you choose." I peeled his fingers off my suitcase one by one.

"You already made your choice."

The elevator chimed from the hallway. Serena stood in the corridor, wearing Ethan's jacket. She was holding a hospital folder. She probably hadn't expected to run into me with luggage. She froze for a couple of seconds before speaking.

"Zara, you're leaving?"

"Otherwise, I should stay and take care of you two newlyweds?"

Her eyes reddened quickly. "I know you hate me. But I don't have much time left. Just pity me for once. When I'm gone, I won't take anything from Ethan."

Ethan stepped in front of her. "Serena can't handle stress."

It was the same move he used to make. At parties, when someone made a joke about my family, Ethan would shield me like that. He would stand in front of me and say, "Zara doesn't have parents. That doesn't mean anyone gets to bully her."

I used to think that was what it felt like to be chosen. Now he was using the same gesture to protect someone else from me.

"Don't worry. I won't touch her." I looked at Ethan. "I'm only taking what's mine."

We had rented this apartment together, splitting the rent equally. The big furniture belonged to the landlord. I packed only my clothes, my books, my mother's wedding gown, and the old coffee maker I'd been using for 6 years.

Ethan stared at the half-empty shoe cabinet and finally realized I wasn't just making a symbolic gesture.

"Where will you stay?"

"None of your business."

"I'll take Serena back to the hospital tonight, then come find you."

"Don't bother. I paid rent through the end of the month. You can renew it yourself. I've already canceled all the auto-payments for utilities, internet, cleaning, and the medication your mother sends every week."

He listened to each item, his expression darkening. These things were so small. Over the past 8 years, he had never once asked about them. But a home was built on these small things. When they stopped, there was no loud crash. Just a sudden failure of every habit.

He followed me to the elevator. "Zara, this can't end like this."

I pressed the door-close button.

"It ended the moment you got that certificate."

That night, Ethan posted a long explanation on his social media. He said he was only helping an old friend with no family fulfill her final wish. He said the marriage would last only 3 months. He said the only person he truly loved was me.

His last line was: I know Zara can't understand this right now, but one day she'll realize that saving a life is more important than formalities.

Messages poured in from mutual friends. Some told me not to compete with a dying woman. Others said Ethan was a good man, loyal and compassionate, worth holding onto. A few asked if I would still show up as a bridesmaid.

I didn't reply to each of them individually. Instead, I sent the newly designed digital invitation to the original guest list.

The cover was still the gardenia my mother had loved. But the names had changed.

Groom: Ethan Chase.

Bride: Serena Vance.

Below it, just one line: I, Zara Hayes, have officially called off my engagement to Ethan Chase. The original wedding will now be held by the legally married couple. Any gifts and social courtesies are no longer my concern.

Ethan called 10 minutes later.

"Did you have to make it sound so harsh?"

"Which part wasn't true?"

"What do you mean 'held by the legally married couple'? You know it's only temporary."

"Does it say 'temporary' on the certificate?"

He had no answer.

I continued, "The hotel payment deadline is 6 p.m. You have 12 minutes. Stop wasting time on your ex-fiancée. Your bride is waiting."

At exactly 6 p.m., the hotel notified me that Ethan had paid the $200,000.

He still couldn't bear to disappoint Serena.