His "Childhood Friend" Planned My Wedding? Cool, I Planned My Exit! novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Cancel Everything
Casey cancels her island wedding in front of the resort staff, then gets a text from the friend she suspects with a photo of her sleeping fiancé.
The woman at the island resort desk read my cancellation form twice.
"You're giving up a twenty-thousand-dollar deposit?" she asked.
"Ma'am, don't you want to call your fiancé first?"
"He's on a beach right now with his childhood friend," I said.
"He doesn't need a phone call."
She looked at me for a long moment.
"The ceremony arch is already built," she said.
"Take it down."
"The florist has been paid for the white roses."
"Then give them to the staff."
My voice shook, so I put my palm flat on her desk to hold it steady.
"I gave notice at work this morning," I said.
"My boxes are in the car. Cancel all of it, please."
She slid the form into a folder and stamped it.
Outside, the welcome board still stood by the front steps.
It had our names on it in gold letters, with Forever Starts Here underneath.
I walked past it and called my best friend.
Rosalie picked up on the first ring.
She was on her break at the hospital, and I could hear a vending machine thump behind her.
"Tell me you did it," she said.
"I did it."
"Does Dexter know?"
"No. He's still on his trip."
"With Lindy."
"With Lindy."
Rosalie rubbed her temples.
"Okay. But what if they really are just friends? I'm only asking once."
"Last week I found a folder on his old hard drive," I said.
"It has four hundred and twelve photos of her on one beach. Six Julys in a row."
Rosalie said nothing.
"I have twenty-three photos of us, Ro. I counted them last night."
"Come stay with me," she said. "Tonight."
"I will."
I hung up and sat in my car with the engine off.
The photos were still on my phone, because I had copied them before I closed the folder.
Lindy Sayre barefoot in water that glowed blue around her ankles.
Lindy on a pier eating shaved ice.
Lindy leaning on the hood of Dexter's car, laughing at something behind the camera.
In one of the oldest ones she stood on a dock with an older man behind her.
He wore a gray bucket hat with a little trout patch sewn on the front, and he had one hand on her shoulder.
An uncle, I figured.
I had scrolled right past him the first time.
Dexter had posted from the bay a few hours ago: a dark swell, a blue glow, and a caption.
This year's glow hits different.
Last July I saw a photo like that and asked, "Can we go there someday?"
Dexter looked up from his laptop and gave me a quick, easy smile.
"It's a crowded little bay, Case. Let's find you somewhere quieter."
He had a folder on his computer with four hundred pictures of the crowded little bay.
My phone rang. It was a video call from Dexter.
I answered.
He wore a loud floral shirt, and his hair was a mess from the wind.
Behind him I could see a pier lined with food carts.
"Hey. You eat?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Good. I'm home in two days. Just keep an eye on the wedding stuff till then, okay?"
"Okay."
He glanced away from the screen and his whole face opened up.
I hadn't seen him smile like that in months.
"Dexter! The shrimp skewers are ready!" a woman called from somewhere off-camera.
"Coming!" he called back.
Then, to me, in his usual flat voice: "Lindy needs me. I have to go."
"What is she doing out there?"
"Her dad died when she was a kid," he said. "Summers are hard for her. I'm helping her get through it."
"Does she need you every single summer?"
His smile disappeared.
"Don't start, Casey."
I didn't say anything.
My dad died in a July too, and Dexter knew that.
Two years ago I asked him to drive down with me for the anniversary, and he said he had a work thing he couldn't skip.
That same weekend, Lindy posted a picture of Dexter holding an umbrella over her head on a beach.
"Don't overthink this," Dexter said now. "We'll talk when I get back."
The screen went dark.
I typed one reply and sent it: Okay.
Then I drove home, climbed the stairs to our condo, and took the box cutter from the kitchen drawer.
I was still taping the first box shut when my phone buzzed again.
It was a text from Lindy.
Under it was a photo of Dexter asleep in a beach chair, with Lindy's hand resting on his chest.
Don't worry about him, the text said. He's in good hands, and he really needs this week.
I looked at the picture for a long time.
Then I picked up the tape gun and started on the second box.
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