Just two lines of text.

"Tabitha, if you ever regret it, just look back. I'll always be here."

"Okay. I'll marry you!"

Everyone who saw it was stunned.

"Holy crap! You're serious? You didn't set this up with someone ahead of time, did you?"

"One week from now, you're all invited to the wedding. Then you'll know whether it's a prank."

The words had barely left my mouth when Jean let out a soft gasp. "Hudson, you're hurting me."

Hudson released her hand immediately, but his expression was terrifyingly dark.

"Enough, Tabitha. Stop messing around. Jean just got back. I'm going to take her home. You handle the guests."

"Whatever else there is to say, we'll talk about it at home."

As he spoke, he pulled two Band-Aids from his pocket, crouched down, and carefully slipped off Jean's heels.

Then he pressed them gently over the raw skin on the backs of her heels.

When he was done, his voice carried the kind of tender scolding reserved for someone precious.

"Every single time you wear heels, you tear up your heels. When are you going to learn?"

Jean stuck out her tongue playfully and looped her arms around his neck.

"Well, that's what I have you for! Just carry me home!"

The crowd's attention shifted to them instantly, and people started teasing and whistling.

"Aww, look at that! When it comes to spoiling a woman, nobody beats Mr. Farley!"

That scene hit me like a freight train, dragging up every memory of how Hudson and I had been for the past eight years.

Eight years together, and he'd grown used to me being the one who gave.

When he was in prison, at his lowest, the other inmates would rough him up constantly. So I started packing Band-Aids for him, slipping them into his pockets so he'd always have them within reach.

After he got out, he couldn't stand dealing with people. I was the one who introduced him to contacts, coaxed him back into the world, helped him crawl out of the shadows one step at a time.

Once his career took off, he'd leave me behind at dinners with business partners to go handle his own affairs, disappearing without a word.

I'd lost count of the nights I'd gotten drunk trying to close deals for him, only to have someone's hands wander where they shouldn't. I'd hide in a corner and cry until I couldn't breathe.

He never said a single comforting word.

When he saw me stumbling home at two in the morning because I couldn't get a cab, heels shredding the backs of my feet until I nearly collapsed on the sidewalk—

He never once crouched down to change my shoes. Not even with Band-Aids sitting right there in his pocket.

So that was it. His tenderness, his attentiveness, his devotion—none of it had ever been meant for me.

The wedding had become a complete joke.

Hudson didn't offer me a single word of comfort. He just got in the car and drove Jean away.

The guests looked at me with pity, like spectators at a show. But what they really hoped was that I'd bow out gracefully and let the two of them have their fairy tale.

Nelson pulled me aside.

"Tabitha, back in college, Hudson literally committed assault for Jean. That kind of love—you were never going to break through it."

"Even if you don't do it for them, do it for yourself. Even if you managed to keep him, you'd never be happy."

He was right. I knew he was right.

So after I'd seen off the last of the guests, I went home and started packing.

I just hadn't expected that eight years of belongings would be so overwhelming I didn't know where to begin.

Every single item was cheap junk picked up from street vendors—knockoffs, freebies. A $9.99 bracelet I'd displayed on a velvet stand like it was something precious.

The most expensive thing I owned was a gold bangle I'd asked for myself when he proposed. Ten grams. A little over a thousand dollars.

Money I'd once felt guilty about letting him spend. Now every piece of it had turned into worthless trash, cheapened by a love that had never been real.

By the time I'd thrown it all away, dawn was breaking through the windows.

He hadn't sent a single message all night. I hadn't called him once.

I was zipping up the last of my bags when Hudson walked through the door.

He spotted the suitcase in my hand and froze. "Where are you going?"

I didn't look up. I zipped the suitcase shut.

"Home."

He crossed the room, snatched the suitcase from my grip, and shoved it into the corner.

His voice softened. "Stop this. You're an orphan, Tabitha. Where else would you even go?"

"I know you're upset about the wedding yesterday, but weddings are just for show. Once we officially register our marriage, that's when we'll really be husband and wife."

I almost laughed.

The longest relationship among any of my friends lasted five years before they got their marriage certificate. Hudson and I had been together for eight, and I couldn't even get a piece of paper.

I was an orphan. He'd promised to give me a home. Eight years I'd waited for that home.

Every time I hinted at registering, he'd find a hundred excuses not to go. The one time he actually agreed, I sat at the civil affairs bureau from opening until close, and he showed up at the last minute.

I clutched our number ticket and begged the clerk to wait just a little longer. Then he told me he'd forgotten his ID.

I think that was the last time I ever brought it up.

Now, suddenly, I wanted to test him one final time.

"Fine. Then let's go register today. If we do, I'll let the wedding go."

His expression changed instantly.

"Tabitha, it's not that I won't register with you. It's just that Jean only just got back. If you push this now, I'm afraid she'll... I'm worried she might do something to herself."

"Once she's had time to settle down, I'll go. I swear—"

"Forget it." I cut him off. I'd just remembered my ID was still in the safe. I turned to get it.

The moment I pulled it out, Hudson grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. I lost my balance and hit the floor.

He reached down to help me up, but when his hand was inches from mine, he saw the ID card clutched in my fingers. His hand pulled back.

His voice went cold.

"What exactly do you want from me, Tabitha? It's not like I said I wouldn't marry you. Why do you have to push me like this?"

"I already explained—everything Jean said yesterday was a joke."

"We're just friends now. Nothing more."

"Just friends?" I picked myself up off the floor. The back of my hand had caught the corner of the safe, and blood dripped onto the hardwood. It stung.

A dense, prickling pain burrowed its way into my chest.

But I'd been hurt so many times that even this didn't feel like much anymore.

"Since when do 'just friends' have zero boundaries? She wrecked my wedding, then spent the entire night alone with my fiancé behind closed doors."

Hudson pressed his lips together. He sighed, pulled me into his arms, and softened his tone to something coaxing.

"Come on. I swear, nothing happened last night."

"And I already talked to Jean. I told her there's no chance for us anymore."

"The only reason I ran after her was to find out why she disappeared eight years ago without a word. I just wanted an answer. I couldn't let it go."

"I told you—even with Jean back, I'm not going to be with her. You're the one who matters most to me."

I was so sick of hearing those words.

Eight years. Every single time he had to choose, I was the one who got left behind.

On my birthday, he heard Jean had been spotted at the airport. He abandoned me alone on a mountaintop and rushed to find her.

When I was sick, he heard Jean had caught a virus overseas and couldn't get the right medication. He mailed her the last bottle of fever reducer we had in the house.

I burned with that same virus for seven days and seven nights. I nearly died.

Every single one of our anniversaries, he prepared two gifts. One for Jean. One for me.

Because every anniversary of ours lined up perfectly with every milestone he'd once shared with her.

So this was what his promises and love amounted to.

I was the backup. The option that could be deleted at any time.

Every anniversary cut me like a blade drawn slowly across my skin. Every night I lay awake, aching for a man who never ached for me.

But not anymore. I was done hurting over him.

I said nothing. I just gripped the handle of my suitcase and walked toward the door.

Hudson seized my wrist, his voice spiking sharp enough to crack glass.

"Tabitha! What the hell is wrong with you? You wanted a wedding—I gave you the wedding I promised! What more could you possibly want?"

"Jean asked me that question today, and I didn't say yes!"

"But YOU—you stood in front of all those people and made a scene, telling everyone you were going to marry someone else!"

"You're the one who was out of line, Tabitha! What right do you have to be angry at ME?"

I lifted my gaze to his reddened eyes and let a faint smile settle on my lips.

"I told you, I'm not angry. I'm just going home."

"Home?" Hudson jabbed a finger toward the door. "You're an orphan nobody wanted! What home? Where exactly are you going to go if you walk out that door?"

He always knew exactly where to aim the knife—and he always twisted it.

There was a time I would have screamed. Fought back. Cried until my voice gave out.

Now I just looked at him, steady and still, until guilt bled through the anger in his eyes.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean it like that. But Tabitha, you're the one who's wrong here."

"You shouldn't have said those things yesterday. What if people actually believed you? How are we supposed to explain that?"

I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle and spoke with my back to him.

"I wasn't joking. Every word I said was true—"

Before I could finish, the doorbell rang.

Hudson opened the door. Jean stood on the threshold, suitcase in tow, tears clinging to her lashes.

"Hudson… my landlord kicked me out. I have nowhere to go. Could I maybe stay here for a little while…?"

Hudson snapped into composure in an instant. He pulled her inside, took her luggage, started getting her settled.

"Stay as long as you need. No rush at all."

Jean's gaze landed on my suitcase. She tilted her head, feigning confusion. "Tabitha, are you…?"

Before I could open my mouth, Hudson had already supplied the excuse.

"She's going on a little vacation to clear her head. Don't worry—she won't mind."

The words I'd been about to say dissolved on my tongue. I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

Then I turned away from the warmth and noise behind me, shut the door softly, and walked out of a home that had never been mine.