The Bride He Locked Out

Chapter 3

The pen scraped across the paper, the sound grating.

In less than one minute, Daniel reduced the wedding I had spent 5 months planning to an exchange of rings.

Dad's expression darkened.

He had looked forward to giving a toast at my wedding reception for years.

He had spent 3 weeks preparing this one.

The emcee looked at me uneasily.

"Ms. Carter, are we really cutting all of these?"

Daniel decided for me.

"We're out of time. This is our only option. Get through the wedding first. We can talk about everything else later. When we get home, I'll make you feel better, however angry you are."

8 minutes until the wedding.

I suddenly heard a cup hit the floor inside the room.

Then came the sound of Olivia's muffled crying.

"Daniel, am I causing trouble for you two?"

His expression changed at once. He immediately swiped his card and opened the door.

I stepped forward, too, but he shifted to block me.

"Don't go in."

"My wedding dress is still in there."

"Olivia's upset. You'll only make it worse."

"Daniel, I'm the bride."

"I know!"

It was the first time he had raised his voice at me.

"And because you're the bride, every guest downstairs is waiting for you. Could you think about them and the rest of the wedding for a minute?"

With that, he hurried inside and slammed the door.

The lock clicked softly.

The door was locked again.

Through it, I heard Olivia suggest between sobs, "Let Emma in. I can wait in the bathroom."

Daniel answered with such tenderness and patience.

"You don't have to leave. This isn't your fault. Finish your soup. I'll handle everything out there."

"But it's her wedding day..."

"Emma's always been understanding. I'll explain after the wedding."

Everyone outside heard the exchange.

Mom burst into tears.

So to Daniel, I, my parents, the hundreds of guests downstairs, and every part of the wedding he had crossed off were simply problems he could handle.

The only person he had to protect was Olivia, inside that room.

4 minutes until the wedding.

The emcee's voice came over the walkie-talkie as they spoke to the guests, trying to stall.

Waves of applause rose from the ballroom downstairs.

Dad slipped his speech back into his pocket and asked me quietly, "Emma, do you still want to marry him?"

I looked at the closed door.

6 years earlier, when Daniel was pursuing me, he had promised he would always put me first.

Then Olivia came back from abroad.

When she went through a breakup, he skipped my birthday party to drink with her.

When she moved, he missed Dad's birthday dinner to help her.

When she said she was scared in the middle of the night, he would drive all the way across the city to stay with her.

Every time, he asked me to understand.

I had put up with it until today, when he finally made it clear at our own wedding that Olivia came first.

Mom took my hand.

Dad's voice was firm.

"Don't worry about us. You don't have to go through with a marriage like this."

The final reminder came over the walkie-talkie.

"2 minutes. The bride needs to get ready to enter now."

At last, the door opened.