I Was The Spare Seat The Spare Gift And The Spare Bride novel Chapter 10

A year later, we had a tiny wedding in Willow Creek. Simple. I didn’t even call my parents. I didn’t know if they knew-and I didn’t want to know.

An hour before the ceremony, my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number-no name, just one line. [“Heard you’re getting married today. I hope you’re really happy.”]

I didn’t reply.

At that exact moment, Liam was sitting in his empty condo. The glow of his phone screen lit his face-that message sat read and unanswered. He stared at the unreturned conversation, laughed once, and his eyes turned red.

I used to live in that condo. An old hoodie I’d left behind still hung in the closet. He’d never thrown it out.

He didn’t know why-maybe he was waiting for me to come back for it, or waiting to admit I never would.

Naomi had told him about the wedding. He listened without expression, said “ok,” and locked himself in his study for an entire night. The next morning, the ashtray was overflowing.

He wanted, suddenly, to see what I looked like at that wedding. He never went. He couldn’t. He was terrified he’d stand at the gate of that little yard and see Ella in white, smiling at another man-and he’d drop to his knees right there.

And he didn’t even have the right to kneel. Because he’d pushed this wedding away with his own hands.

He picked up his phone and read that unanswered message again. Outside, dawn was breaking. He remembered, years ago, when Ella was small-he’d slipped her a strawberry candy and said, “Being a little dumb’s okay too.”

She’d held onto that candy so long it melted and glued her hand. He’d laughed at her for being silly. Now he understood-the silly one was him. He’d held a real heart in his hands too long, thinking it would never leave.

The wedding was simple. Jade was the officiant and made jokes about Owen-how the first time he bought flowers, he didn’t know hyacinths were poisonous and almost knocked himself out in his bedroom.

Everyone laughed.

We exchanged rings, and he leaned down and kissed me-soft lips, a hint of mint. Miles clapped from the audience, loud and proud.

That night, my phone rang again. Dad. I hesitated, then answered.

Mom’s crying came through-relatives were gossiping that I’d abandoned the family, that she’d worked so hard raising me and I didn’t even invite her.

Then Dad’s voice, low as ever, “Ella-your mom’s crying every day. Her eyes are going bad. Come home.”

“No child holds a grudge forever.”

“A wedding without your parents-aren’t you ashamed?”

“Can’t you learn from your sister?”

I held the phone, staring at the warm yellow light in the yard. Owen was clearing the table.

“Mom. Dad. This is who I am.”

I hung up and stood at the door. Night wind blew in-dirt and grass. Owen came over and draped his jacket over my shoulders. “You okay?”

I leaned against him and looked at the locust tree in the yard. “Yeah. I’m really good.”

On the windowsill, those first daisies had long faded-replaced by fresh ones. Owen brought a new bunch every week-never explained why, just set them there, quiet like him.

I thought of that little girl from so long ago-always trailing behind her sister, always picking up leftovers.

She never imagined that one day, she’d stand here, loved this gently. Not as the leftover. As the only one.

The night was lovely. The wind was lovely. And I was lovely, too.