He Thought I’d Wait

"What do you mean by 'borrow it for a day'?" When I asked that, the red pen in my hand was still paused behind my uncle's name on the guest list. 10 minutes earlier, Ethan had brought Serena through the door and told me he wanted to lend our wedding to her for one day. Serena sat across from me, her hair cropped short, a loose beige coat making her look even thinner. She didn't touch the water in front of her. The back of her hand still bore the bruise from an IV. Ethan brushed her wrist and pushed the warm cup closer to her. There was a small water stain on the rim. He turned it to the other side without thinking. I reached for my own cup. When my fingers touched the ceramic, I realized it had long gone cold. "Just one day," Ethan said again. "The venue, the catering, the schedule will not change. I'll handle the guests. Serena's health can't handle a new round of planning." I closed the guest list. "And the groom?" He paused. "Me." "The rings?" "We'll use ours." "The vows too?" Ethan frowned. "Zara, she's in this condition. Do you really need to question every single detail?" I capped my red pen and set it down without adding another name. Serena finally looked up. Her voice was soft. "I'm sorry, Zara. I only wanted a bridal photoshoot at first. But Eethie thought, since the venue was already booked. I might as well have no regrets." She called him Eethie. Ethan and me had been together for 8 years. Even at our most intimate moments, I only used his first name. He said two adults in a relationship didn't need cutesy nicknames. "Anything else?" I asked. "Zara." Ethan's face darkened. "Drop the sarcasm." Serena quickly added, "No, that's really all. Just the wedding. I won't take anything of yours. When I'm gone... when I'm not here anymore, Ethan will still be yours." I looked at Ethan. He didn't correct her. He only said quietly, "I owe her one." 12 years ago, after graduation, they'd planned to move to Northbrook together. But Ethan's father had fallen ill suddenly, so he stayed. Serena waited at the airport all night. Later, she went abroad, and they lost each other. I'd heard this story many times. Whenever Serena came back, or went through a breakup, or had a rough time at work, Ethan would say he owed her one. But this time, he was using my wedding to pay that debt. "Fine," I said. Ethan let out a visible breath of relief. He reached for my shoulder. I stepped aside and picked up my phone to call the bridal boutique. "Jessica, my main gown won't be used. Please seal it. Don't give it to anyone who comes for it." Ethan's brow twitched. "What do you mean by that?" "You can borrow the wedding. But the gown is made from fabric my mother left me. That's not for loan." I hung up and messaged the emcee to delete the vows I'd written. The florist's contact was right below. I tapped in and canceled the white-and-green floral arrangement too. Ethan stood by the table the whole time, watching. It wasn't until I opened the flight booking app that his expression changed. When the cancellation confirmation popped up, he grabbed my phone. "What does the honeymoon have to do with any of this?" "Serena's not well. Won't you need to stay with her after the wedding?" "It'll be a week at most. Once she's stable, we can still go." "The Aurora won't wait. And neither will the wedding." I pulled my phone back and hit confirm. The two tickets refunded $9,600, nearly half of what I'd paid, since it was so close to departure. It took me 3 years of work to save that money. Before Ethan could say anything else, the planner sent a voice message asking if the pre-wedding video should still be played. I had edited that video myself. From college graduation, to his first failed business, to the day we moved into this small apartment. 8 years compressed into 7 minutes. The final shot was of him sliding the ring onto my finger at our engagement, saying that the next time it played would be at our wedding. Ethan said immediately, "Keep the video. Just cut your solo shots. Serena doesn't have many photos from her time abroad—we can add those at the end." I looked at him. "You want to use 8 years of our life to prove you two are in love?" "It's just for the atmosphere. People won't pay that much attention. Most of the early footage is my life anyway." I opened the cloud folder and deleted his sharing permissions right in front of him. "I shot those early clips. I wrote the subtitles. I'm the one who captured you crying after you landed your first deal. Your life is yours. But the version I recorded? I'm not lending that out as someone else's backdrop." For the first time, Ethan looked genuinely taken aback, as if he'd only just realized he wasn't borrowing just a banquet hall. He stared at the refund amount and finally showed some anger. "You'd rather lose over $4,000 just to spite me?" "It's not spite." I put the invitations back into their box. "From now on, what's mine stays mine. No more loans."