I Called Off My Wedding Chapter 03
Brandon’s friends murmured immediately.
“Kimberly, are you insane? If anything happens to Lyn, you’re the murderer.”
I stood on the pool deck, watching Brandon struggle to hold Lynette above the water.
I caught a final glint of Mom’s heirloom beneath the surface before it vanished down the drain.
My chest tightened in agony, leaving me fighting for air.
Brandon carried the soaked Lynette out of the pool, and someone immediately handed him a towel.
He took the towel, left Lynette there shivering, walked straight over to me, and draped his jacket over my shoulders, still icy from the sea breeze.
His face was hard as he stared at my pale complexion, his eyes filled with disappointment.
“Kimmy, when did you become so aggressive?
“Would you really let her die just over an object?”
I looked into his eyes, felt the weight of his jacket on my shoulders, and suddenly laughed.
“If you keep making a big deal out of this, I’ll have to reconsider tomorrow’s wedding,” Brandon snapped coldly. He turned around, picked up Lynette, who was still pretending to sob, and strode toward the hotel.
I was left alone with a crowd of people staring and whispering about me.
I ignored their stares and pulled the jacket tighter around me for a moment.
Then, right in front of everyone, I took off the jacket that still held Brandon’s body heat and tossed it into the nearest trash can—exactly how I’d thrown away the tattered remains of my wedding dress the night before.
I turned and walked back to my room, locking the door behind me.
I pulled out my phone and opened the chat with Terrence.
“Terrence, does what you said three years ago still stand?”
Less than three seconds after I sent the message, the “typing” indicator appeared at the top of the screen.
“It still stands. Anytime.”
I let out a long breath and sent him the hotel’s location.
“Pick me up at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”
I set my phone down.
Since Brandon enjoyed trampling on my principles just to cozy up to Lynette, I’d erase every single one of them.
I was curious whether he’d still hold his ground.
I didn’t show up to the bachelor party on the eve of the wedding.
My phone screen lit up suddenly.
Someone had sent me a screenshot of Lynette’s Instagram post.
In the photo, she was lying on a big bed in a hotel suite, wearing a man’s dress shirt, twisting a navy blue tie around her fingers.
It was Brandon’s favorite tie—the one I’d picked out for him as a birthday present last year.
The caption read: “Other women come and go. I’m the one he’s meant to be with.”
In the background of the photo, Brandon’s expensive Patek Philippe watch could be seen clearly.
I saved the screenshot and blocked the sender.
At 11 p.m., there was a knock on the door.
I opened it to find Brandon standing there, reeking of alcohol.
His collar was unbuttoned, and that navy blue tie was nowhere to be found.
“Kimmy, you’re still up?”
He walked into the room, closed the door behind him, sat down on the couch, and rubbed his temples.
“We need to make a small change to tomorrow’s schedule.”
“How?” I asked coldly, staring at him.
Brandon looked up, his eyes darting away for a split second before he squared his shoulders and spoke confidently.
“Lyn is going to walk down the aisle tomorrow instead of you.”
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
I stared at him, barely recognizing the man in front of me.
“What did you just say?”
Brandon took a deep breath, stood up, and walked over to me.
He placed his hand on the back of my neck, his thumb rubbing against my skin.
“She’s having a severe depressive episode. She’s holding a piece of broken glass and won’t let anyone near her. Kimmy, her life is at stake.
“It’s just a few minutes down the aisle. No vows. My wife will still be you.”
He was taking away my right to walk down the aisle as his bride and letting his mistress do it instead.
And he expected me to stand there in a bridesmaid dress and watch them exchange vows.
How dare he!
I looked at his supposedly affectionate face and felt my stomach turn.
“Do you think I’m going to agree to that?” I pulled my neck out of his grasp.
Brandon’s face darkened, and his grip on the back of my neck tightened.
“I told you it’s just a formality. I’ve been planning this wedding for six whole months. What the hell is your problem?
“Are you really going to fight a sick person over this stupid title, even if it means she dies?”
I stared at him intently, and the anger that had been building up in my chest suddenly faded away.
I smiled brightly.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Brandon froze for a second.
He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“I know this is hard for you. But I promise, after tomorrow, everything will go back to normal.”
I stepped back, breaking free from his embrace.
“You stand there quietly and don’t make a scene. Right after the ceremony, you and I are off on our honeymoon,” Brandon said, closing the door with a satisfied look.