Not Waiting For You Chapter 08
Panicky, Tyrone locked his phone screen.
Luckily, his remaining rationality told him there was still hope for him.
He hopped into his car and met with his confused friends.
One of his buddies fumbled in a pile of things in his car and found a wrinkled invitation.
When he handed it to Tyrone, he could hardly look at him and faltered, “Um, Tyrie, Amira had this put in my car. When you said you weren’t going to the wedding, I just—”
Tyrone snatched the invitation away from him.
At the sight of the words “To Benson and Snyder’s Wedding,” his nervous heart relaxed, as if someone had clutched it and loosened.
Benson… That was him!
Amira had tried on wedding dresses and sold their apartment without him knowing it. Then, she turned her phone off.
This wasn’t her. She had always been sensible.
All these things must have been Cynthia’s idea.
She was encouraging Amira to go to extremes to rattle him.
Anyway, the invitation didn’t lie. He was the groom.
Tyrone closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the surging anger had subsided.
“Where do we go now? It’s been confirmed. The apartment belongs to someone else now. The new owner warned us not to make trouble.”
“Forget it. I’ll reckon with her about the apartment after the wedding.”
At this point, his priority was to find his bride.
“To the hotel,” he said, tapping hard on the hotel name at the bottom of the invitation. Composure had been restored in his voice. “Look alive, all. Off we go!”
On the way, sitting in the back seat of the car, he kept thinking of the names “Benson and Snyder” written on the invitation.
Reassured, his chaotic mind gradually settled down.
However, a trace of weird unease lingered.
Amira had sent out the invitations to their wedding. Clearly, she still wanted to marry him. Then, why did she turn her phone off?
And Cynthia wouldn’t take his calls, either.
The questions quietly penetrated into his newly warmed blood like tiny ice slivers.
When they reached the hotel, the sign saying “Benson and Snyder’s Wedding” stood at the entrance.
His restless nerves were soothed a little.
Ignoring the clerks at the sign-in desk, Tyrone scurried in.
The guests all looked astonished to see him, but he paid no heed to it.
After all, he had left home in a hurry. He thought these people were surprised by his untidy image.
Flowers were everywhere in the lobby. The fragrance filled the air.
The decoration had been done meticulously.
Standing among the people, Tyrone felt strangely satisfied.
It went without saying that Amira valued the wedding immensely.
Nonetheless, his sense of satisfaction was gone briefly after, replaced by displeasure.
All this should have been done by him.
He was supposed to propose to her on one knee, help her pick the wedding gown, and discuss the dishes and the flowers’ colors with her.
The wedding should’ve been a surprise.
But, right now, he just stood there like a guest coming late, forced to accept an ongoing wedding.
It was irritating just to think that he had been excluded from the planning of his own wedding. He pressed his lips and repressed his anger.
Never mind. What was done couldn’t be undone.
Fixating on immaterial things would only make him look petty.
In the rest of their lives, he would have plenty of opportunities to make up to Amira and take charge of things.
Currently, he needed to complete the wedding with her.
He straightened his suit jacket and turned to the entrance, waiting for his bride to come.
“Your invitation, please, sir,” a clerk said politely to him.
