When He Came, the Wedding Feast Had Ended

2: 2

"Spent the whole day getting upset—how could you not be tired?"

My hands went still at that.

Whatever I was feeling, all that was left of it was silence.

Once we were inside, Philip spoke up.

"I know today's business with the bracelet upset you."

"It's nothing, really. Just a bracelet. I'll make it up to you with ten of them later."

He peeled off his coat and dropped it into my arms, giving the order like it was the natural thing to do.

"Seven a.m. flight tomorrow. Meeting with the investment bank overseas, three days, two nights. Pack my bag for me."

He didn't wait for me to agree. He was already sunk into the sofa, answering messages.

He didn't need me to agree.

Every time he traveled, I was the one who packed his case.

Ties rolled into their box so they wouldn't crease, melatonin in the outer pocket where he could reach it.

"Oh, right."

He looked up from his phone, the smile still on his face.

"Bring a box of stomach medicine, and pack a bag of brown sugar. Doris hasn't been feeling well these past few days, but she insists on flying along anyway. Stubborn thing."

"Last time her stomach hurt so bad she was breaking out in a cold sweat, and she still gritted her teeth and finished checking the bid documents before she'd go to the hospital."

He shook his head, smiling. "That girl. Stubborn as a little mule."

Watching the ease in his face, I suddenly thought back to not long ago.

To land a partnership deal for him, I drank until I was throwing up blood.

Rushed to the hospital.

Three days admitted, and he came once.

The moment he learned Doris hadn't been part of the drinking, the worry drained out of his face.

In its place came a single line.

"Busy. Don't bother me."

That same night, my appendix flared up.

The nurse held out the surgical consent form and asked for a family member's signature.

I bit through the pain and called him, and the line was busy the whole time.

Just as I was about to call the company, the text popped up.

The name that finally went in the signature line was my own.

Crooked, uneven.

The pain was so bad I couldn't hold the pen steady.

So it turned out he wasn't incapable of feeling for someone.

There was just a limited number of spots for it, and none of them ever came around to me.

"Your own luggage—"

I'd barely started when his phone rang.

One glance at the screen and he got up and went into the study.

The door was left ajar.

Whatever he said, I couldn't make it out.

Only the laughter, spilling out in bursts.

Standing in the living room with his coat in my arms, I suddenly realized how familiar that laugh was.

Seven years ago, under the cherry blossoms, he'd laughed just like that.

Down on one knee, holding up a ring.

"Fel, wait for me."

"Once I've made something of myself, I'll bring you back to the old estate and have Grandmother put the bracelet on your wrist herself."

"The Delgado heirloom bracelet only goes to a Delgado wife."

Back then I thought waiting meant two people walking toward the same place.

Later I understood. I was the one standing still, watching him walk farther and farther away.

I turned and went into the closet.

What I dragged out wasn't his carry-on.

It was my own suitcase.

His case, I could pack and close in ten minutes.

This one of mine, I'd been packing for seven whole years before I dared pull the zipper shut.

The study door opened.

Philip glanced at the empty carry-on and his brows drew together.

"Why isn't it packed yet?"

Then he saw the suitcase by my hand, and his voice dropped. "Felicity Mason, is throwing a tantrum fun for you?"

"At the birthday dinner today, who was all that sulking meant for? Doris asked me the whole way back whether she'd done something to upset her Fel."

"On the phone just now she even offered—" his voice softened, "—the moment Fel gets married, I'll give the bracelet back, completely intact."

I looked at him and asked, calmly.

"Then when are we getting married?"

He went blank.

"Seven years ago when you proposed, you said the day you'd made something of yourself, the day Grandmother handed over the bracelet, that would be the day you married me."

"Today, Grandmother handed the bracelet over."

"So, Philip. Has that day come?"

Something flickered in his eyes.

"Why are you circling back to this again? While the company's filing to go public, there can't be a single slip. Holding a wedding at a moment like this—if the SEC starts looking into it—"

I cut him off.

"Then it won't hold up your filing."

"Philip, let's break up."

Then I pulled an invitation from my bag and held it out to him.

"Three days from now."

"It's my wedding."