Ten Years Wasted The Bride Who Never Showed

“Marina, I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't raise that boy right, and you're the one who suffered for it.”

“We can't keep the betrothal money you returned. Could you give Jude one more chance?”

I was still processing her words when my phone screen lit up. A voice message from my dad.

The room was too quiet to play it out loud with Glenda sitting right there, so I converted it to text.

Every line was pure warmth and steady resolve.

Last night, the moment I'd posted the breakup announcement in the family group chat, he'd wired every cent of the betrothal money back to the Lyons family.

He said he would always respect whatever I decided. That he would always be my strongest support. That no matter what happened, home would always be there for me to come back to.

Something warm spread through my chest. I looked up at Glenda, and my voice was firm.

“Mrs. Lawrence, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just wasn't meant to marry into your family.”

“If my mom were still here, she'd have made the same decision my dad did.”

At the mention of my mother, Glenda went still for a moment.

They'd been friends since they were girls.

Work had scattered them across the country for years, but by some twist of fate they'd both ended up married in the same city, picking their friendship right back up.

My freshman year of high school, Jude's father had an affair.

Glenda came to my mother in tears and asked her to help catch him in the act.

There was a struggle. In the chaos, Jude's father stabbed my mother. Her kidney ruptured.

She survived the surgery, but she was never the same.

She died the year before I graduated college.

Glenda had carried the guilt ever since. She treated me like her own daughter.

When she found out Jude and I were together, she took my side every single time, right or wrong.

Finally, she let out a long sigh, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Marina, I won't push you.”

“But the betrothal money—you have to keep it. Consider it a dowry from me.”

“I just hope your mother doesn't blame me.”

She pressed the bank card into my hand.

“Get some rest.”

She turned and walked out of the room, shooting Jude a hard glare on her way past him.

The second Glenda was gone, Jude came in. He saw the bank card in my hand, assumed I'd given in, and let out a deep sigh.

“What happened yesterday was my fault. I won't ignore your calls again.”

“Once you're discharged, we'll get the wedding photos taken and lock down the venue.”

“Your dad and my mom are getting older. They can't handle this kind of drama.”

He reached for my hand as he spoke, then his gaze snagged on my bare ring finger.

“Where's the ring? Marina?”

I looked down. A pale white band of skin circled the spot where it used to be.

“I threw it away.”

His hand froze in midair. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“Marina, what do I have to do to make you happy?”

I looked up at him.

“Fire Ethel Henson.”

“No.”

Almost instant.

“Why not?”

“She's less competent than every single person you've fired before her.”

I held his gaze and stated it plainly.

Something flickered across his face. His voice tightened with irritation.

“Marina, you're thirty years old. Can you stop acting like some jealous little girl?”

“We've been together ten years. Lived together for six. Every person we know expects us to get married. And you pick now to blow this up?”

“If you walk away now, how is that any different from being divorced?”

Even though I'd already made up my mind, his words still landed like a fist against something soft inside me.

I couldn't believe the boy who'd blushed to the tips of his ears the day I said yes was the same person standing here now, red-faced with spite.