“I asked June to bring the receipt first.”
Malik glanced at me. “Why?”
“Because you both said Tessa’s parents paid the deposit.”
Tessa folded her arms. “They did. You told me it was a gift.”
“I told you a gift covered it. I didn’t say who it came from.”
June took a sheet from the file and placed it on the desk between us. The receipt showed Deposit: $3,600, my name, and the last four digits of the card I’d used. Tessa leaned in to read it. I took my card from my wallet and set it beside the paper.
“I paid it,” I said. “I wanted to surprise you later. I should have told you as soon as you thought it was your parents.”
Tessa looked from the card to me. “You let me argue with you about that.”
“Yes.”
“You let us send those cards.”
“You sent them without asking me, and after you knew the booking wasn’t yours. But I could have told you about the money when you called. I chose not to.”
Malik rubbed his hand over his face. “You asked her for the whole amount and wouldn’t say you’d paid it?”
“I wanted her to find out here.” Saying it out loud made the meeting feel less like a matter of paperwork and more like what I had arranged it to be.
Tessa pushed the receipt toward June. “We can pay you back over time. You don’t have to cancel it.”
A few days earlier I might have taken that offer. I had offered her the date for the deposit, after all. But Malik had just told me they couldn’t afford another one, and I didn’t want to spend months collecting money from either of them. I also didn’t want to give them the date. I couldn’t pretend that part was about money.
“I’m canceling,” I said.
Tessa’s face tightened. “People have the date, Rowan.”
“I know. I’m sorry I waited to tell you about the deposit. But I’m not paying for your wedding.”
She reached for the transfer form. June kept a hand on the file and said, “The reservation can’t be transferred without Rowan’s signature.”
Malik looked at me. “You’re really doing this?”
I thought of him standing outside by the planters, telling me he was sorry after I’d seen them kiss. I had wanted that friendship back even then. Sitting across from him now, I knew I wasn’t going to get it back by giving him what he wanted.
“Yes,” I said.
June turned the contract toward me and pointed out the cancellation request. I signed it. She checked the date, then entered the cancellation and authorized the full refund to my card. She told Tessa and Malik the reservation was canceled and the date was no longer theirs.
Tessa stood up so abruptly that her chair caught on the carpet. “I’ll have to tell everyone.”
“I know,” I said. This time I didn’t argue with her about whose fault that was.
Malik followed her out. He looked back at the door, but I stayed at the desk until June handed me a copy of the cancellation.
The following week, the full $3,600 appeared as a credit on my card. That evening I opened the shared wedding group we had used for guests. Tessa had posted: The wedding will not take place on the date we sent you. Please cancel any plans you made for it. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.
People had answered beneath it. One said she had already booked a hotel but could still cancel. I was relieved for her, and ashamed that I had known guests might be making plans while I held on to the receipt for my little performance.
I sent Tessa one final message saying I had received the refund and wanted no further contact from her or Malik. Then I left the group. I kept the money; getting it back was fair, even if the way I’d waited to tell them wasn’t.
I put the cancellation copy in the drawer with my card statement and closed it. The refund was mine, and neither of them needed anything else from me.
