I Replaced My Bride at the Altar

My moms face fell instantly.

Her hands shook with anger as she forced the vintage, million-dollar diamond heirloom ring back into her purse.

She turned to look at me, her lips pale with rage.

That Julian guy is doing this on purpose! I knew he was trouble from the start. Who keeps changing a house design this many times?

"Mom," I whispered, cutting her off. "Chloes parents are still in the room."

Everyones attention had been drawn to Chloe and me because of that cheap pipe fitting.

Then, their eyes shifted to Julian Brooks, our interior designer.

Julian pushed up his glasses and gave Chloe an approving nod.

Chloe was completely absorbed in her discussion with him, pointing out several other things she wanted to change.

Marcus, the general contractor, was a smart guy.

He cracked a few jokes about imported materials, instantly breaking the tense silence in the room.

My mom didnt say anything else. She just walked over to discuss something with my dad.

The inspection ended in a blur. I barely paid attention to the rest of it.

I could feel the apologetic, helpless stares coming from Chloes parents.

Meanwhile, Chloe was still in the bathroom with Julian, passionately debating some minor layout adjustment.

The chemistry between them had long crossed the line of a normal client-designer relationship.

Originally, Julian was only hired to handle the basic utility and plumbing layouts.

But Chloe had insisted on handing the entire interior design over to him.

She kept saying he was a genius and needed room to unleash his creativity.

She even insisted that he attend todays walkthrough, despite it being an intimate event meant only for our families.

Once we left the house, my mom found a moment to whisper to me.

She grabbed my hand tightly, her voice dripping with suppressed fury.

"That designer has been playing games since last year. I did some digging, Ethan. He and Chloe went to college together in London. Hes actively trying to ruin your wedding. And Chloe is letting him"

"Mom," I said, gently squeezing her hand. "Ive got this. Lets not talk about it right now."

She sighed and dropped the subject.

The others had already left the driveway.

Chloe walked over slowly. "Ethan, we found a lot of issues today."

She naturally slid her arm through mine, acting as if nothing had happened.

I quietly pulled my arm away.

"I need to help our parents to their cars."

She didn't seem to notice my coldness. "Okay, sounds good."

After sending them off, we drove back to our apartment.

The car merged into the heavy rush-hour traffic.

The rearview mirror caught my expressionless face.

The man in the reflection looked incredibly exhausted.

"About today," Chloe suddenly started explaining, "that pipe really was substandard. Julian has an incredible eye. Were lucky he caught the issue."

"Since its our dream home, we cant have any flaws. Dont overthink it."

"Julian is already contacting a British supplier to see if we can get a rush delivery."

I remained silent, staring at the red taillights of the traffic gridlock ahead.

She waited for a response. When none came, she finally looked up from her Snapchat chat with Julian. "Are you mad?"

She leaned closer to me. "Didn't we agree to build the most perfect home together?"

She rested her hand on my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder.

She spoke to me like she was soothing a toddler. "Our home is going to be better than everyone else's. Everything inside must be imported. Just be patient."

A wave of utter exhaustion washed over me.

It was always like this.

She used the excuse of "perfection" to keep pitching a future that would never arrive.

And she expected me to put my entire life on hold for it.

"Chloe," I said, keeping my eyes on the red light ahead.

"Yeah?"

"My dads health is failing." My voice was dead calm. "When he was hospitalized last time, I promised him hed see me get married this year."

"I want him to watch me start my family. I want him to have peace of mind."

The car fell dead silent.

She sat up straight, pulling away from my shoulder.

"That was your promise to your dad. Why didn't you discuss this with me first?" Her tone grew irritated.

She picked up her phone again, her fingers tapping the screen with impatience. "The house isn't even finished yet! How can we get married? What, are we going to invite all our friends to this tiny apartment?"

"We need to take our time to make it perfect. Why are you in such a rush?"

Her excuses were getting lazier and lazier.

I suddenly remembered my dad using all his connections to book our wedding venue for Labor Day weekend two months ago.

When I had excitedly shared the news with her back then, a flash of anxiety had crossed her eyes.

"Thats great!" she had said. "Ill tell Julian right away. I want him to design the wedding hall!"

Then, she had immediately gone back to scrolling through her phone.

Back then, I was just happy we finally had a date.

Now, I realized how incredibly foolish I had been.

The car pulled up to our apartment building and stopped.

Chloe unbuckled her seatbelt.

Assuming the conversation was over, she leaned in to kiss my cheek.

I turned my head away.

She froze.

"I'm tired, Chloe."

She stared at me, silent for a few seconds.

Finally, she reached out to adjust my collar. "Renovations are stressful. Go upstairs and get some rest."

"Julian said he got some new inspiration. He wants me to go over and look at the blueprints. Poor guy is pulling an all-nighter for us."

"Okay," I replied flatly.

She didn't get out of the car immediately.

She seemed to be waiting for me to act like my old selfto tell her not to stay out too late, or to complain about her meeting a guy this late.

But I just pushed the door open, stepped out, and walked away without looking back.

Behind me, I heard her engine rev as she drove off.

Back in the apartment, I collapsed onto the sofa.

It took me a long time to finally drag myself into the study.

As I passed the filing cabinet, I stopped.

We bought this cabinet together five years ago when we first decided to buy a house.

We had promised each other that it would be filled with blueprints of our future.

I pulled open the bottom drawer.

Hidden beneath a thick stack of renovation contracts and invoices was a yellowed piece of paper.

It was our hand-drawn floor plan. It had our scribbled ideas, her dream walk-in closet, my gaming setup...

At the bottom were our signatures side-by-side.

Her neat, elegant handwriting next to my bold strokes.

[Chief Designer: Ethan Vance. Chief Planner: Chloe Carter.]

Next to the signatures, I had written: "Building our dream home. A promise is a promise."

The warm light of the desk lamp hit those words, making them look like a cruel joke.

My phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from Chloe.

I didn't answer right away. I just watched the screen light up.

The phone rang relentlessly.

Finally, I swiped to accept.

Her excited voice blasted through the speaker. "Ethan! We made a new decision. Look at this rendering!"

She pointed her camera at a computer screen.

"Sure. Whatever you think is best." I didn't look at the screen. My eyes were still fixed on our old hand-drawn sketch.

Chloe noticed the paper through the camera.

"Why did you dig out that old drawing?" she asked, laughing. "Feeling nostalgic?"

I ignored her question and asked quietly, "Does the new plan require major changes again?"

She hesitated. "Just a few. Julian's mind works differently. His vision is on another level."

"I see." I slowly and carefully folded the paper and put it back in the drawer.

"We have a few more details to go over. I'm going to hang up," she said, ready to end the call.

I didn't hang up. I pushed myself up from the desk.

My back felt stiff from sitting too long, and I had to steady myself.

"Chloe."

"Yeah?" Her background was noisy.

"Lets call off the engagement."

The line went quiet for a second, and then she let out a soft laugh.

"Are you seriously still throwing a tantrum over some pipes? Don't be childish."

Her tone was condescending, like she was dealing with a stubborn kid. "Alright, fine. I'll have him order the parts overnighted from the UK, okay? Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow."

She was about to end the call.

"Next month," I said clearly to the camera, "the wedding is happening."

She went dead silent.

A few seconds passed before she spoke again.

The sweet, patronizing tone was entirely gone.

"Ethan Vance, stop playing games."

She took a sharp breath. "Marriage is a life event, not a tool for you to throw tantrums."

"Labor Day weekend."

I gave her the exact date.

"The venue and the caterers are already confirmed."

She let out a cold scoff. "Did your dad pressure you again today? Is he really that desperate? He doesn't even care that our house isn't finished?"

"Ethan, grow up. Stop letting your family run your life. We are the ones living in that house"

"Chloe, let me make this clear," I interrupted. "The invitations are going out tomorrow. This is happening. Im not asking for your permission. Im letting you know."

I could hear her breathing getting heavier on the other end.

"Who do you think you're talking to, Ethan? Did I give you too much leeway? You think you can force me into this? This just proves youre an insecure, controlling jerk!"

"I am trying to build our perfect home. Any flaw is a desecration of that dream, and it ruins Julians entire design!"

"Are you really that desperate for a stupid ceremony?"

Her words cut like ice.

In the past, accusations like this would make me anxious. I would have rushed to explain myself and apologize.

But right now, I felt absolutely nothing.

Sure, the designers "inspiration" was sacred.

More importantly, Chloe was the only one who understood Julian's art, and Julian only had Chloe as his client.

Their late-night brainstorming sessions, their weekend trips to museums, and their "material sourcing" trips abroad...

All that was left for me, the fianc, was an endless pile of bills.

I met the silence on the other end of the line and admitted it.

"Yes. My parents are getting old. I want to start my family now."

With that, I hung up.

My laptop was still open on the side table. The screen showed the wedding planner's portal.

The header was clear: [Wedding Details Confirmation: Mr. Vance & Miss Carter].

I had been so excited to send this to her weeks ago, but she had brushed me off with a "let's wait a bit." I hadn't opened the tab since.

The night dragged on, and I couldn't sleep.

My phone lit up again.

It was a text from my dad. He was still awake too.

[How did it go? What did Chloe say? Your mom was so upset she barely ate dinner.]

[Both families already agreed on the date. We can't change it now, Ethan. It would make us look foolish in front of everyone.]

What did she say?

She didn't say much of anything.

In this world, not every plan comes to fruition.

Not every renovation gets finished.

A moment later, another text from my dad popped up:

[Sigh. If Chloe is really being difficult, don't force it. I'll figure something out. Son, I know you're stuck in the middle.]

[Never mind. I understand your situation. Let nature take its course.]

My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time.

Finally, I typed back: [Don't worry, Dad. I won't let you down.]