The Wedding He Never Thought I’d Cancel

The first time I found Adrian and his private assistant, Mia, texting each other good night after midnight, we had our biggest fight yet. After that, when I asked him to keep his distance, he deliberately got even closer to her, determined to make me stop being so sensitive. He took Mia shopping for furniture for our future home, let her sit beside him in his car, and when I was sick with a fever, left me alone while he took her to his family’s estate. Every time I said something hurt me, Adrian pushed a little further. Eventually, I stopped asking. Adrian thought he had finally won. At the housewarming party for our new Tribeca penthouse, I pressed my finger to the smart lock. Fingerprint not recognized. His friends laughed. “Stop trying, Claire. Mia’s fingerprint was added days ago.” Then one of them grinned. “Adrian bet you wouldn’t make a scene. He said if you could handle this, you were finally ready to become Mrs. Moretti.” Everyone waited for me to explode. I stared at the red light and realized Adrian had gotten exactly what he wanted. I didn’t care anymore. “Then don’t add mine.” I turned toward the elevator. “Cancel the wedding too.” I was leaving anyway. There was no point in having the wedding anymore. Chapter 1 “Fingerprint not recognized.” The red light flashed again. I pressed my thumb to the lock one more time. Nothing changed. Adrian had bought the Tribeca penthouse a month ago. It was supposed to be our home after the wedding. A few of his friends had come over early to help set up for the housewarming party the next night. Yet I couldn’t even open the door. Luca laughed beside me. “Claire, stop trying. Mia’s fingerprint was added yesterday.” A few of Adrian’s oldest friends stood in the hallway with drinks in their hands, all of them watching me. “Adrian made a bet with us,” Luca said. “He said you’d lose it when you found out.” Someone added, “But he also said you’ve finally learned to give him some space. If you don’t make a scene tonight, he’ll add your fingerprint tomorrow and the wedding stays on schedule.” I looked through the open door. Adrian was leaning against the bar with a glass of whiskey, close enough to hear every word. He did nothing to stop them. Mia stood nearby in a spare shirt from the penthouse closet. When she noticed me looking, she smiled. “I spilled wine on my blouse while we were setting up. Adrian told me to find something clean to wear.” Three days ago, I would already have been arguing with him. Now I only took my hand away from the lock. “Don’t bother.” Adrian finally walked over. “Don’t bother with what?” “Adding my fingerprint.” I slipped my bag over my shoulder. “You can keep going.” Luca grinned. “You’re leaving already? If you walk away without making a scene, Adrian wins.” I stopped. “What exactly did you bet on?” “I said you’d blow up when you realized Mia had access before you did. Adrian said you wouldn’t. He thinks you’ve finally learned.” So that was why everyone had been watching me. They were waiting for my reaction. I looked at Adrian. He seemed perfectly calm, as though turning our relationship into entertainment for his friends was harmless. “Congratulations, then.” I headed for the elevator. Adrian caught up and closed a hand around my wrist. “Claire, what are you doing?” “Leaving.” “I told you I’ll add your fingerprint tomorrow.” His voice lowered. “Everyone is here tonight. Don’t make me chase you just because you want attention.” I pulled my wrist free. “There’s no need.” His expression hardened. “If you get into that elevator, don’t start using the wedding to threaten me again.” He knew exactly where to press. “You’ve wanted to marry me for years.” That used to work. Five years ago, before Adrian became Don of the Moretti family, we had lived in a cramped apartment together. One winter night at Coney Island, he spent twenty dollars winning me a cheap brown teddy bear, tucked my freezing hands inside his coat, and promised that one day he would give me a home no one could push me out of. I had believed him. Now that home was behind me. Mia had access to it before I did. I met Adrian’s eyes. “Fine.” His brow tightened. “What?” “We won’t get married.” The elevator doors began to close. Luca stepped forward. “Adrian, should we—” “Let her go.” Adrian gave a cold laugh. “Where is she going to go? She’ll call me before midnight.” The doors closed. I didn’t look back. By the time I returned to the apartment we had shared for five years, it was dark. I pulled out a black garbage bag and began clearing the room. Matching coffee mugs, framed photos, souvenirs from trips. One by one, they disappeared into the bag. My phone lit up. Claire, enough. Another message followed. I gave you a way out tonight. Don’t push me until I lose patience. I read both messages and deleted his number without replying. Adrian had spent months teaching me that loving him meant swallowing every hurt, doubting my own instincts, and staying quiet whenever he crossed a line. I had finally understood that no matter how much he loved me, he wanted my obedience more than he wanted my happiness. So I chose to leave before there was nothing left of me except the woman he had trained me to become. I had stopped fighting because I was done waiting for him to change. Chapter 2 While clearing out the bedroom, I pulled an old charging cable from behind the nightstand. Six months ago, Adrian’s phone had been charging in that exact spot. That was the first time Mia had ever become the reason for a real fight between us. It was after one in the morning. Adrian had gone to shower when his phone screen lit up. Mia. Good night, Adrian. Try to get some sleep. A few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, glanced at the message, and replied as naturally as if there were nothing strange about it. Good night, Mia. You too. I looked at him. “Do you two always text like this at night?” “Saying good night to each other at one in the morning.” Adrian lifted his eyes. “Mia is my assistant. We were working late tonight.” “Does she still need to remind you to sleep after the work is over?” The patience in his expression faded. “Claire, it’s one message.” “If a man texted me like that at one in the morning, would you be fine with it?” That night, we had our first serious fight over Mia. I asked him to keep a professional boundary with her. Adrian’s only answer was, “What you should be asking yourself is why one good-night text makes you this angry.” The next afternoon, he took Mia to a private furniture showroom in SoHo. Together, they chose the sofa and dining table for the apartment we were supposed to move into after the wedding. When he came home, I asked why he had taken her. Adrian removed his coat. “She’s helping with the new place.” “I told you yesterday that I’m uncomfortable with how close you two are.” “So because you’re uncomfortable, I have to do whatever you want?” We fought again. After that, it was always some version of the same thing. One day, I found Mia sitting in the passenger seat of Adrian’s car. I stood beside the car and asked him why she was there. Adrian looked at me for a few seconds, then walked around the car and opened the passenger door for her. “Get in.” Mia hesitated. “Adrian, I can sit in the back.” “No.” He leaned in and fastened her seat belt himself, then looked at me over the open door. As if he were waiting to see what I would do. I lost my temper that day. Adrian stayed perfectly calm. “Claire, who sits beside me doesn’t mean anything.” “But you know I care.” “Then learn not to.” Later, I came down with a fever of almost 103. Adrian had promised to stay home with me that night, but somehow we ended up arguing about Mia again. In the end, he called her right in front of me. “Get ready. We’re going to Hudson Valley.” The Morettis owned a private estate there. I pushed myself upright in bed. “Adrian, I have a fever.” “The medicine is in the cabinet.” “You really have to take her tonight?” He was already putting on his coat. “I could have stayed. You’re the one who turned this into another fight.” Then he closed the door behind him. Rain poured over New York that night. My fever kept climbing until I finally had to call a car and go to the ER alone. While a nurse set up my IV, I took out my phone and typed: I feel awful. Before I could send it, I saw Mia’s latest post. The terrace at the Hudson Valley estate was lit by the fire. Two glasses sat on the table. Quiet nights are the best. At the edge of the photo was Adrian’s watch, the one I knew on sight. I stared at it for a while. Then I deleted the message I had written. After that night, I stopped asking. If Adrian came home late, I didn’t ask where he had been. If Mia sat in his car, I didn’t argue. If he canceled our plans at the last minute, I answered with one word. Okay. Sometimes Mia called after midnight and Adrian stepped out to take it right in front of me. I simply rolled over and went back to sleep. Adrian was pleased. I even heard him tell Luca and the others once, “She’s been much better lately. She used to question everything. Now she finally understands that some things aren’t worth making a problem over.” Everyone thought I had become easier to love. I looked down at the charging cable in my hand, wound it up, and dropped it into the garbage bag. Once, I would have stared at Adrian’s phone waiting for an explanation. Now, he could leave it unlocked in front of me and I probably wouldn’t bother looking. This was what he had wanted. Adrian thought the silence meant I had finally learned. Chapter 3 The next morning, I heard the lock turn. Adrian walked in just as I finished sealing the last cardboard box. Mia followed behind him. They both paused when they saw the four boxes lined up neatly in the living room. Adrian had arrived looking cold, probably because I never called him last night. But the moment he saw the boxes, his expression visibly eased. He thought I was eager to move into the Tribeca penthouse. “All right. Enough.” Adrian walked over and glanced down at the boxes. “Yesterday is over.” “Stop fighting with me over Mia. I’ll add your fingerprint today, and the wedding is still happening.” Mia stood behind him and spoke softly. “Claire, don’t blame Adrian for yesterday. Everyone was only joking.” She paused. “That apartment is obviously your home. I was just helping get a few things ready.” As she spoke, her hand settled naturally on Adrian’s arm. Months ago, I would have stared at that hand and asked why she was touching my fiancé. Now I only smiled. “It’s fine.” Adrian studied me for a few seconds, clearly pleased with my answer. He reached out to touch my hair. I tilted my head away. Adrian didn’t seem to care. “That’s better.” He checked the time. “I’m taking Mia back to the office to pick up a file. We’re having a housewarming at the new place tonight. Luca and the others will be there.” “Come over when you’re done moving.” Then he added, “Don’t be late.” “Okay.” I answered immediately. The corner of Adrian’s mouth lifted. He probably really believed that what I had said last night about calling off the wedding was nothing more than the last bit of a tantrum I hadn’t quite gotten over. A few minutes later, they left. The moment the door closed, the smile faded from my face. I took out my phone and called the moving company I had booked in advance. “Hi. You can come up now.” “Four boxes. They’re all going to San Francisco.” The movers arrived half an hour later. I wasn’t taking much with me. My laptop, hard drives, design sketches, and the work materials I had accumulated over the years. The clothes and jewelry Adrian had given me, along with everything that belonged to the two of us, stayed behind. Once the boxes were gone, I returned to the desk. Two printed emails were still lying there. One was from our wedding planner. The other was from the venue we had booked. After I came home last night, I had officially canceled the wedding. A confirmation soon appeared on my phone. Your cancellation has been processed. I looked at it for a few seconds, then closed the page. Five years together, and in the end, all I really had to deal with were a few boxes and a handful of cancellation forms. By that afternoon, the apartment was empty. I shut off the power, checked each room one last time, and left with a single black suitcase. Adrian still thought I was busy moving my things into our new home. Maybe tonight he would sit in that penthouse with Luca and the others, waiting for me to show up. I locked the door to the apartment where we had lived for five years and left the keys with building management. Then I called a car. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Where to?” I glanced at the boarding pass on my phone. “JFK.” The car merged into Manhattan traffic. The building behind me grew smaller and smaller. And even now, Adrian probably still believed I had finally learned to behave. …… The second bottle of champagne had already been opened in the Tribeca penthouse. Luca leaned back on the sofa, laughing so hard that he nearly spilled his drink. “Adrian, I’ll give you this. Six months ago, Claire would’ve torn that door off its hinges if she found out Mia had access before she did.” One of the others lifted his glass. “And tonight, she didn’t even make a scene.” “Looks like she finally learned,” another man said with a laugh. Adrian stood beside the bar, slowly turning the whiskey in his glass. His expression remained calm, but the satisfaction behind it was impossible to miss. “She used to make everything bigger than it needed to be.” Luca grinned. “So the fingerprint thing worked?” Adrian lifted his chin slightly, looking completely unsurprised. “She’s finally learning what it means to stand beside me. “If she’s finally learned how to be a proper Donna, then the wedding will go ahead as planned.” Luca laughed and raised his glass. “I told you she’d come around. Claire’s been obsessed with marrying you for years. She was never really going to walk away.” The others laughed with him. Even Mia smiled. No one in the room seemed to doubt it. Right then, his phone vibrated against the bar. Luca laughed again. “Speak of the devil.” Adrian glanced down with the faintest smile, already expecting another message from me asking whether he was still angry, or what time I should come over. But the moment he read it, the glass slipped from his hand and shattered. Adrian, we’re done. You wanted me to stop caring who you were with. Now I don’t. The wedding is canceled. You can be with whoever you want now.