The rental company.
The cake designer.
By lunchtime, nearly thirty thousand dollars had disappeared.
And somehow, Daniel felt lighter with every cancellation call.
It was the most expensive relief he had ever purchased.
Vanessa still had no idea.
She was out having brunch with friends, most likely discussing flower arrangements for a wedding that no longer existed.
Daniel called his family next.
His mother cried when she heard the truth.
His sister admitted she had hated the way Vanessa spoke to him for years but never knew how to say it.
His father stayed silent for several seconds before finally speaking in a low voice.
“A woman willing to slap you publicly,” he said, “will become much worse privately.”
By the time Vanessa returned home carrying shopping bags and iced coffee, Daniel’s inbox was overflowing with cancellation confirmations.
“You should see the centerpiece designs I found,” Vanessa said cheerfully while stepping into the kitchen.
Daniel looked at her calmly.
“The wedding is canceled.”
She stopped walking.
“What?”
“I called everyone this morning. It’s over.”
At first she laughed.
Actually laughed.
Like he was joking. Like this was some dramatic stunt designed to teach her a lesson.
Then she saw his face.
And the laughter vanished instantly.
“You’re serious.”
“I’m not marrying someone who hits me.”
Vanessa threw her shopping bags onto the floor.
“It was ONE slap!”
The way she said it horrified him more than the slap itself.
Like there was an acceptable amount of violence.
Like public humiliation should come with tolerance limits.
“It happened in front of fifty people,” Daniel said quietly. “And the next morning you acted like it never happened.”
Suddenly she started crying.
Real tears.
Sharp.
Angry.
