After She Could Smell Emotions, She Called Off the Wedding Chapter 02
I froze. The emcee froze, and a ripple of surprise passed through the room.
Onstage, Jasmine went rigid and shook her head at Nathan, subtly but urgently.
Nathan lowered his gaze, then looked at me with a tender smile.
“How about I do it? I know you’ll start crying, and I hate seeing you upset.”
Before I could answer, he began.
His voice carried through the ballroom, calm and even, as though he were delivering a routine announcement.
“Georgie wanted me to tell you how beautiful you look today. She hopes you’ll always be happy and never lose sight of who you are.”
“If you’re ever unhappy, you can always come home. I… we’ll both be here.”
Jasmine smiled.
“I know. I promise I will.”
They held each other’s gaze from across the room before looking away with practiced indifference. Only I could smell the bitterness hanging between them.
When the toast ended, the reception continued as if nothing had happened.
I turned toward the distracted man beside me.
“That wasn’t what I planned to say. Didn’t you hear me practicing at home? I could’ve spoken for myself.”
Nathan finally seemed to come back to himself and gently pinched my cheek.
“Your eyes were already swollen before the ceremony even started. I was afraid you’d break down before you finished your first sentence.”
He chuckled softly.
“You’re always making me worry about you, Georgie.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace, just as he had countless times before.
If I hadn’t sensed every trace of sweetness fade from him, I might have believed he really loved me.
“Is that so?”
I forced a smile.
“How thoughtful of you.”
He missed the sarcasm. Jasmine had arrived at our table with a glass of champagne, drawing his attention to her.
“Next week, it’ll be your turn, Georgie.”
She smoothed my hair.
“Look at you. You’re all grown up.”
I lowered my eyes as a dull ache spread through my chest, followed by a wave of nausea.
Jasmine turned to Nathan.
“Take good care of Georgie. I hope you remember what you just promised.”
Nathan rarely touched alcohol, but he drained his glass in one swallow.
“I will.”
They immediately looked away from each other. Jasmine moved on to the next table as laughter filled the ballroom. Nathan kept drinking, one glass after another.
I watched without trying to stop him. There was no point anymore.
By the time we got home that night, Nathan was so drunk he collapsed onto the couch.
“Jasmine…”
“Why couldn’t it have been us? Tell me…”
I sat nearby and listened in silence as my fiancé called out Jasmine’s name in his drunken haze.
Then the hotel called to confirm the cancellation of our wedding.
“Ms. Bennett, we received your request to cancel next week’s wedding reception. We wanted to make sure there hadn’t been a mistake.”
“We also need to remind you that the deposit is nonrefundable.”
“I understand,” I said quietly.
“It wasn’t a mistake. The wedding is canceled.”
“You can keep the deposit.”
After I hung up, Nathan mumbled from the couch.
“Georgie, my throat hurts. Make me some tea with honey.”
I left him there and shut myself in the bedroom.
I returned the unopened champagne and every unopened box of wedding favors I could, then canceled the personalized candy order. Then I bought a ticket to Iceland.
I’d always wanted to go, but Nathan had insisted he was too busy every time I brought it up.
Now I could finally go alone.
I lay awake that night, retracing the ten years we’d spent together. The further back I looked, the more warning signs I found—signs I’d somehow missed at the time.
There was Nathan’s inexplicable sadness when Jasmine left the country.
Then there was Jasmine’s graduation, when he insisted on coming with me to congratulate her.
Then there were all the photos of the three of us. In every single one, Nathan had angled himself toward Jasmine.
I didn’t know when his feelings for her had begun, but I knew this was where our relationship ended.
Nathan was already awake and making breakfast when I got up the next morning. He’d cooked for us for years and had never once let me help.
“Morning.”
He set breakfast on the table, then asked in an overly casual tone, “I was pretty drunk last night. I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?”
My gaze settled on the toast covered in strawberry jam—something I hated and Jasmine loved.
For a moment, I said nothing.
“No.”
Relief flickered across Nathan’s face before he frowned.
“You didn’t even get me a blanket, and there was no tea with honey. I woke up freezing, and now my head is killing me.”
I didn’t touch my breakfast.
“It isn’t my job to take care of you.”
I met his gaze, and the coldness in mine caught him off guard.
Nathan pressed his lips together as irritation sharpened his scent.
“What’s going on? Did someone upset you, or is something about next week’s wedding bothering you?”
Without answering, I dropped the strawberry-jam toast in the trash.
“I hate strawberries.”
Nathan stared at me. I let out a humorless laugh.
“Jasmine is the one who likes them.”