Part 2: The Price of My Time
Paige didn’t question my decision.
She glanced at Seth and gently took my hand.
“Okay.”
Seth followed us into the hallway.
“Wait. Nobody’s canceling anything.”
I turned around.
“I am.”
His expression hardened.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“Over babysitting?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
I met his eyes.
“Because you knew I might say no, so you made the decision without me and tried to make sure I couldn’t change it.”
He began to respond, but I kept going.
“That’s not how I want to start a marriage.”
Reverend Thomas came soon after.
He was a kind man in his sixties who had spent the past month helping us shape our vows.
He studied our faces.
“Would you like a few minutes alone to talk?”
“We already talked,” I said.
He nodded.
“Are you asking to postpone the ceremony?”
I looked at Seth.
He seemed convinced that I would eventually stop being unreasonable.
“No,” I said.
“I’m asking you to tell everyone there won’t be a wedding.”
Seth muttered a curse.
Reverend Thomas suggested we move into the bridal room, and Mom arrived a minute later.
She stopped short when she saw me.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
Explaining meant admitting that the man I’d trusted had secretly made decisions about my entire future.
I sat down beside the mirror.
“I can’t marry him.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“Did something happen?”
I nodded.
She sat next to me.
“Do you want to tell me?”
“Not right now.”
She held my hand.
“Okay.”
Nothing more.
She didn’t mention the wedding expenses or our waiting relatives.
She simply accepted my answer.
For the first time that afternoon, I broke down and cried.
Seth appeared in the doorway.
“Can I please talk to my fiancée?”
Mom stood.
“She said she doesn’t want to talk right now.”
He looked past her.
“Natalie, you’re throwing away three years.”
I wiped my cheeks.
“I’m not the one who did that.”
He shook his head.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
Despite everything, happy memories rushed back.
Seth had once driven two hours to fix my father’s porch, brought me soup when I had the flu, and held my hand the night my grandmother died.
Those moments had been real.
That only made them harder to reconcile with his behavior now.
Reverend Thomas asked him to leave us alone.
This time, he did.
Minutes later, the chapel music stopped.
I heard murmuring, chairs scraping, and Reverend Thomas speaking into the microphone.
He announced that the ceremony was canceled, apologized for the inconvenience, and asked for privacy.
He gave no explanation.
I was grateful for his discretion.
Guests began to leave.
Paige sat beside me while Mom phoned the reception coordinator.
The food was already prepared. Some of it could be packed up and donated if arrangements could be made, but most deposits were nonrefundable.
We’d already paid for the flowers, and the cake was waiting at the reception venue.
Sorting out the financial fallout would take weeks.
My phone buzzed over and over.
One cousin asked whether I was okay. An aunt wondered if there had been an emergency. Someone from Seth’s family insisted that couples always disagreed and I shouldn’t make a permanent decision while upset.
I turned my phone off.
Paige helped me take off my veil, needing three tries to work loose a stubborn pin without tugging my hair.
We didn’t speak until she finished.
Then she whispered, “You know you can be sad about this and still be right.”
I cried even harder.
About forty minutes later, Paige brought my car around to a side entrance.
I had decided to go back to my apartment.
Seth and I hadn’t moved in together. We’d planned to end my lease after the wedding and move my belongings into his townhouse at the end of the month.
For once, postponing that move had worked in my favor.
Mom offered to drive me home, but I needed the familiarity of my own space.
Paige carried my bag toward the exit.
Before we reached the door, Heather appeared down the hallway.
Her eyes were red.
“Natalie. Can I talk to you?”
Paige edged protectively closer.
Heather noticed.
“I’m not here to argue.”
I stopped.
Behind her, several guests were clearing decorations from the reception tables. Children were playing outside, probably including Maddie.
Despite everything, I worried about Heather’s Monday arrangements.
“What is it?” I asked.
Heather glanced over her shoulder.
“Seth told me you were going to help because you wanted to. I swear that’s what he said.”
“I believe that’s what he told you.”
She looked briefly relieved.
Then I added, “But you should have asked me.”
“I know.”
She rubbed her face.
“There’s something else.”
I waited.
“About a year ago, Seth had some trouble with his truck.”
I frowned.
“I know. The engine had to be replaced.”
“Did he tell you how he paid for it?”
“He said he’d been saving.”
Heather closed her eyes.
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
Her expression unsettled me.
“Did Seth ever tell you he borrowed money from me?”
“No.”
“Six thousand four hundred dollars.”
I stared.
“He owes you sixty-four hundred dollars?”
She nodded.
“And three weeks ago, he told me he’d found a way to pay it back.”
A sick feeling spread through my stomach.
“What way?”
Heather looked at my wedding gown.
Then she spoke softly.
“Natalie, I think you need to sit down.”
We went into a small room next to the fellowship hall.
Stacked plastic chairs lined one wall, and a children’s coloring table sat in a corner.
Paige stayed with me.
Heather unlocked her phone.
“I lent Seth the money last spring,” she said. “His truck needed a replacement engine, and he couldn’t afford the repairs.”
I remembered the episode.
Seth had been furious about the repair costs and had borrowed my car twice while his truck was in the shop.
He’d claimed most of his savings had gone toward the engine.
“I gave him sixty-four hundred dollars,” Heather went on. “He promised to start paying me back once he caught up on his other bills.”
“Did he?”
“He paid me two hundred dollars once. Then he stopped.”
Heather looked down.
“I needed the money back, Natalie. Daycare was eating up most of my paycheck. Colin pays his share of the children’s expenses, but I still have rent, groceries, and everything else.”
I understood money struggles.
What I couldn’t understand was why mine were being tied to her brother’s debt.
“Three weeks ago,” Heather said, “Seth came over and told me he had a solution.”
I waited.
“He said you’d decided to stay home after the wedding. That you wanted a break from the dental office.”
My mouth went dry.
“He offered to have you watch the kids for a year.”
I stared.
“And you would forgive his debt,” I said slowly.
Heather nodded.
For several seconds, I couldn’t answer.
Seth hadn’t merely volunteered my help to his sister.
He had traded a year of my labor to settle his personal debt.
Heather scrolled through her messages.
“Here.”
She handed me her phone.
Seth’s first message read:
Nat’s serious about leaving the office after the wedding. She loves having the kids around. I think this could help both of us.
Heather had replied:
Are you sure she’d want all three every day? That’s a lot of work.
Seth wrote back:
She’s already planning to be home. I wouldn’t offer if we hadn’t talked about it.
Further down, Heather had written:
If Natalie handles daycare through next spring, are you saying we’re square on the truck money?
Seth answered:
Yeah. Call it even.
I read his reply three times.
Fifty hours every week.
Nearly a year of supervising three children, making meals, changing diapers, running naps, doing laundry, and handling school pickups.
No income, no retirement contributions, no professional advancement.
All so Seth wouldn’t have to pay his sister back.
I gave the phone back.
“Did you know how much I make at the clinic?”
Heather hesitated.
“Not exactly.”
“Did you know I’d been there almost seven years?”
“Yes.”
“Then how did you think I could afford to quit?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Seth said you’d both planned for it.”
“With what money?”
She said nothing.
I leaned back.
“Six thousand four hundred dollars,” I said.
Heather looked miserable.
“I know how it sounds.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes filled.
“That’s not fair, Natalie. I honestly thought you wanted this.”
I faced her.
“Did you ever ask yourself why someone would give up a full-time job to watch three children for free?”
She began to answer, then stopped.
Her silence told me enough.
Heather desperately needed affordable childcare. Seth had offered a solution that cost her almost nothing, and she had taken it.
Eventually, she spoke.
“I should have talked to you myself.”
“Yes. You should have.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“I didn’t think Seth would lie about something like that.”
“Neither did I.”
For the first time, I felt something other than anger toward her.
We had both believed Seth.
We had both been deceived.
But Heather still had her job. I would have lost mine if he had gotten his way.
“There’s something I don’t understand,” I said.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this when we saw each other?”
Heather frowned.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“At Mom’s birthday dinner last month. I started asking you about work, remember?”
I recalled that evening.
Heather had asked whether I still enjoyed working at the clinic.
Before I could reply, Seth jumped in, explaining that wedding preparations had made talking about work stressful for me.
I’d thought he was being considerate.
“He told me later that I’d made you uncomfortable,” Heather said. “That you were upset I was questioning your decision to stay home.”
My chest tightened.
“He said that?”
She nodded.
“He told me you wanted him to handle the arrangements because you didn’t like being pressured.”
I sat frozen.
Then another memory surfaced.
After that same dinner, Seth had told me Heather thought I put my career first too much.
According to him, she couldn’t understand why a soon-to-be-married woman cared so much about earning a promotion.
His comments had stung.
Afterward, I had avoided talking about my career with Heather.
Now she was insisting she had never criticized me.
I looked at her.
“Did you ever tell Seth you thought I was too focused on my career?”
Heather shook her head.
“No.”
“Did you tell him you didn’t think I’d make a good wife because I worked so much?”
Her confusion turned to shock.
“Of course not.”
My stomach churned.
Heather stared at me.
“What exactly has my brother been telling you about me?”
I glanced at the wedding ring still sitting in its little box in my purse.
It had never reached my finger.
“I think,” I said slowly, “we need to compare a few things.”
