He Put His Ex First So I Found My True Mate Chapter 08
Meanwhile, back at the cliff house, Graham stood in the empty main hall and finally felt the first stir of unease.
My phone was off.
The obsidian-and-gold courtship ring lay on the bedside table.
It had only ever been a promise he had yet to fulfill. The partner oath and registration had never happened.
The bathroom counter had been cleared of every trace of my things.
“I’m going back to Grayhaven to find her.”
He had just picked up his car keys when Blair came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Don’t.”
She leaned against his back, her tone soft, as if she were only thinking of him.
“If you go after her now, you’re teaching her that leaving is how she controls you. If you give in this time, she’ll threaten to walk away every time she’s unhappy.”
Graham frowned.
“The partnership ceremony is less than two months away.”
“Which is exactly why you can’t indulge her,” Blair said, tightening her hold. “She just wants to see if you’ll bend. Give her a day to cool off. Once she realizes no one’s chasing her, she’ll come back on her own. She’s still waiting for you to submit her Tidewatch membership application.”
Graham was silent for a moment, then set the keys back down.
“Fine. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
He had no idea he had already missed his last chance.
The moment I got back to Grayhaven, I went to work.
The first email I sent was to the event planner, canceling the venue, flowers, band, catering, and every other reservation for the ceremony.
The ceremony had been meant to formalize our chosen-partner oath before a registrar and witnesses, then enter my name into the Whitmore family registry. Graham had always said that was when I would truly have a home.
I didn’t need that place anymore.
The second email went to every guest.
It said only:
*The partnership ceremony has been canceled. Thank you for your understanding.*
Then I organized the pups’ school schedules, medical records, allergy list, therapy files, summer camp contracts, and transport arrangements into document boxes and sent them by same-day courier.
The recipient was Graham, and Graham alone.
From that moment on, their lives were no longer my responsibility.
That afternoon, the cliff house manager showed up with a bill.
The sailboat rental, alcohol, beach activities, and pup lessons—all booked under my name—had to be settled on-site.
George slapped a hand on the table.
“Didn’t Mara say she was paying for all this?”
Cynthia’s expression soured.
“Make her come back and run the card.”
The manager only explained, calmly, that they were the ones who had used the services.
Before the argument could escalate, a black sedan pulled up outside.
My territorial attorney walked into the hall, checked everyone’s identity one by one, and handed each of them a formal demand for reimbursement.
The notice required them to repay, according to a written cost-sharing record, the full amount I had fronted for the trip within the stated deadline.
As they stared at the bills in their hands and the attorney at the door, every one of them fell silent.