Chapter 119th wedding with Derek Chase.
Dad had barely taken my hand when Derek walked up holding a pipe fitting, totally losing it.
"Jenna! This drain pipe isn't real British import! Good thing Lily spotted it!"
Our renovation manager froze.
"Dude, YOU signed off on this! And British custom parts? We're talking a YEAR minimum!"
Derek looked at me. His face said this wasn't up for discussion.
"It HAS to be authentic British. We'll wait a year. Wedding's postponed."
"This is our HOME. Every detail matters."
Ugh. Again. Eighteen times before this.
Every single time, him and that designer Lily Parker—the one we paid a hundred grand—found some insane excuse to ruin the wedding.
I caught our manager's WTF expression. Yeah. Same, dude.
I let out a cold laugh.
Derek. This is the nineteenth goddamn time.
Don't wanna marry me? Fine. LEAVE.
But this wedding? It's going down. WITHOUT you!
...
Lily Parker—the house designer we hired for a hefty $100,000—posted a photo on Instagram of herself having takeout with my fiancé.
[3am city nights with you.]
[Eighteen drafts. Nineteen do-overs. We fought for the perfect home.]
All their friends commented congratulations.
Everyone thought the house was for these two.
Only I knew—I paid for it. Every cent. MY money.
And because this house never got finished, Derek and I stayed "engaged" for FIVE years straight.
This time actually went smooth for once.
Until Mom took my hand to pass me off, and there was Derek—holding that damn pipe fitting.
"Jenna, this sink drain isn't British."
"Local factory garbage. Thank god Lily caught it!"
The manager just stared.
"Mr. Chase, Ms. Parker signed the order herself! British specs won't even fit our plumbing. You want custom? Year minimum. Maybe longer."
Derek looked at me. Zero negotiation in those eyes.
"A year? We can wait."
"This is our wedding house. We can't half-ass it."
I glanced at our manager's confused face.
Laughed quietly.
Derek had no clue how hard it was to book a venue on a holiday weekend. We'd lose the deposit.
So whether HE got married? Whatever.
But MY wedding was happening! With or without him!
My mom's face went dark fast.
Her hands were shaking hard. Her lips went white with rage.
"That Parker bitch is doing this ON PURPOSE! I knew it from DAY ONE. Who the hell changes designs every goddamn day—"
"Mom." I kept my voice low. "His parents are here."
Everyone was staring now—me, Derek, that pipe.
Then at designer Lily Parker.
Lily started as basic electrical design. Foundation stuff.
Derek insisted she handle everything. Even interior design.
Always said she was "talented" and "needed creative freedom."
After we left the venue, Mom found a chance to whisper-hiss at me.
She gripped my hand hard, voice tight with rage.
"I'm telling you, that designer's been playing games since last year. You know what I found out? Her and Derek—they were classmates in London. She's sabotaging you, sweetie. ON PURPOSE. And Derek..."
"Mom." I patted her hand. "I know. Drop it."
She sighed but went quiet.
Everyone else had left already.
Derek finally walked over. "Jenna, we found a ton of issues today."
He took my hand like nothing happened.
I pulled away smoothly.
"Let me walk everyone to their cars first."
He didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, okay."
After seeing them off, we drove back to the apartment.
Merged into rush hour traffic.
My face in the rearview looked dead.
Tired in a way I couldn't even describe.
"So," he said suddenly. "You mad?"
He leaned toward me. "We agreed, right? Building the perfect home?"
His hand landed on my arm, rubbing my shoulder.
Like calming down a kid throwing a tantrum. "Our home has to be better than everyone else's. All premium imports. Not even one bad pipe. Just be patient."
This wave of exhaustion hit me.
Always the same.
Using "perfection" as an excuse to dangle some far-off future.
Then acting like every real problem should just disappear.
"Derek." I stared at the red light.
"Yeah?"
"My dad's sick." My voice flat. "Last hospital stay, I promised him. This year I'd give him a wedding."
"I want him to see me start a family. I want him to stop worrying."
Silence.
Derek's body went stiff.
"House isn't done. How do we get married? Cram everyone into the apartment?"
"Let's take our time. We'll nail it. What's the rush?"
He kept talking but his excuses were weak as hell.
I suddenly remembered—my dad used connections two months ago just to lock down that wedding venue.
I'd been so excited telling Derek.
"Derek, we can finally do this."
He'd paused. Worry flashed through his eyes.
"Amazing. I'll tell Lily—I want her designing the ceremony space!"
Then right back to scrolling his phone.
That moment, all I felt was joy that we'd finally set a date.
Now? Fuck.
I was so stupid. So naive.
The car pulled up to our building. Stopped.
Derek unbuckled his seatbelt.
Probably thought our talk was over. He leaned in to kiss my cheek.
I turned my head away.
He froze.
"I'm tired, Derek."
Chapter 2
He stared at me for a second.
Then just reached over and fixed my collar. "You're exhausted from all this renovation crap. Go get some rest, okay?"
"Lily just texted—says she's got a new idea. Wants me to swing by. She's been up all night working on this."
"Cool." My voice was ice.
He didn't get out right away.
Waiting for me to say what I always say. Don't stay out too late. Be careful driving.
Yeah, not this time.
I just opened the door, got out, didn't look back.
Behind me, his car started up and pulled away.
Back home, I dropped onto the couch like dead weight.
Took forever before I could drag myself to the study.
Passing the file cabinet—the one we bought five years ago specifically for storing our plans—I stopped.
We'd said we'd fill it with blueprints for our future.
I pulled open the bottom drawer.
From a thick stack of contracts and material lists, I dug out one yellowed sheet.
Our hand-drawn floor plan. Layouts we'd argued over. My walk-in closet. His game room.
At the bottom, our signatures side by side.
Mine neat and careful. His bold and messy.
Lead Designer: Jenna Rivers. Project Lead: Derek Chase
Next to our names, I'd written: "Building our dream. A promise."
The lamp made those words look almost cruel. Like some sick joke.
My phone buzzed. Video call from Derek.
I didn't answer. Just watched it ring.
And ring.
Finally, I swiped to accept.
He sounded pumped. "We just nailed down a new direction. Check out the rendering."
He flipped his phone toward a computer screen.
"Yeah, whatever." I wasn't looking at his rendering. Still staring at our original sketch.
Derek spotted the old drawing through the video.
"Why'd you dig that up?" He laughed. "Feeling nostalgic?"
I didn't answer. Just asked flat: "This new plan gonna be another massive overhaul?"
He hesitated. "Some tweaks. Lily's approach is really fresh."
"Mm."
I folded the paper and shoved it back in the drawer.
"Gotta hash out a few details. I'm hanging up." He was about to end the call.
I didn't hang up. Just braced myself against the desk and slowly stood.
Sitting so long made my back stiff.
"Derek."
"Yeah?"
"We're done. I'm calling off this engagement."
His end went quiet. Then he laughed.
Voice dropped lower. "Oh come ON. You're still mad about the pipe? Jenna, grow up."
That tone—like I was throwing a tantrum. "Fine, I'll have them air-ship the damn thing. Happy? Now go to bed. You've got work tomorrow."
About to hang up.
"Next month," I said clearly into the phone. "The wedding's happening."
Chapter 3
He went silent for a long time.
When he spoke again, that coaxing tone was gone.
"Jenna. Don't even joke about that."
He sucked in a breath. "Marriage isn't some game you play when you're pissed off at me."
"October 1st."
I gave him the exact date.
"Venue's booked. Vendors confirmed."
He scoffed. "Let me guess—your dad got in your head again today, didn't he? He's really that desperate? Doesn't even care the house isn't done?"
"Jenna, you need to grow up. Stop letting your family run your life. WE'RE the ones living in that house—"
"Derek, I'll say this once." I cut him off. "Guest invitations go out tomorrow. This is happening. I'm not asking."
I could hear his breathing get heavier.
"Jenna, who the FUCK do you think you're talking to? I've been too soft with you, is that it? Now you think you can tell ME what to do?"
"You know what this is? You're just desperate. Can't wait to lock this down before you're too old!"
"I'm building our PERFECT home right now. Every single flaw ruins it—throws off EVERYTHING Lily's been working on."
"And you're really this desperate for some ceremony?"
His words were like ice picks stabbing into me.
Five years ago, I would've cried. Apologized. Begged him to understand.
Now? Nothing.
Yeah. Lily's precious "inspiration." Their late-night "work sessions." Those convenient "research trips" abroad.
And me? I just paid the bills.
I looked at the phone and said it out loud:
"You're right, Derek. I AM getting old. And I'm done spending what's left on your bullshit."
I hung up.
On the side table, my laptop was still open to the wedding planner's proposal.
The title stared back at me: Final Ceremony Itinerary Confirmation: Ms. Rivers & Mr. Chase.
I'd been so excited to send it to him months ago. He'd shut me down with "let's wait."
Never opened it again after that.
Late that night, I couldn't sleep.
My phone lit up.
Message from my dad. Guess he couldn't sleep either.
[Sweetheart, what happened? What did Derek say? Your mom's so upset she couldn't eat.]
[Both families already know the date. If we cancel now... we'll lose so much face.]
What did he say?
Not much worth repeating.
Not everything in this world goes according to plan.
Not every house gets finished.
A moment later, another message came through:
[Look, if that boy won't come around, don't force it. Dad will handle this. I know you're stuck in the middle, baby.]
[Actually, forget it. Let things happen naturally. I understand.]
My fingers hovered over the screen for a long time.
Finally, I typed slowly:
[Don't worry, Dad. The wedding's happening. I promise.]
