The day before the wedding, my fiancée skipped the rehearsal.

That evening, I got a text from her:

I'm pregnant. The baby isn't yours.

So I'm going to get a marriage certificate with Graham first. Once the baby's born and registered, I'll come back.

We'll push our wedding back three years. Let's not contact each other during that time.

Figure out a way to keep both families in the dark. Don't let them go after Graham. Just tell them you want a few more years of freedom.

I typed back a single word:

Okay.

She was right about one thing. There was no need for this wedding anymore.

——

Almost simultaneously, her childhood friend posted on social media.

The photo showed two hands wearing matching couple's rings, fingers shaped into a heart. Inside the heart sat an ultrasound printout. Seven weeks.

The caption read:

I wanted to be a father, so she decided to give me a child.

The comments section flooded with congratulations from Carrie Delgado's friends, all cheering that the two of them had finally made it official. People promised to bring generous gifts tomorrow.

Not a single person mentioned me.

As if the wedding scheduled for tomorrow had always been theirs, and I had nothing to do with it.

I let out a bitter laugh, then liked the post.

And left a comment:

Wishing you a lifetime of happiness!

My comment blended right in among the chorus of well-wishes. Nothing out of place.

But the next second, it was deleted.

Carrie's call came immediately after, her voice dripping with impatience.

"Wilfred Johnson, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to start something by commenting on that?"

I was momentarily speechless.

"I'm not starting anything. I genuinely wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

But Carrie Delgado couldn't hear the sincerity in my words. She'd already decided I was there to cause trouble.

"Oh, please. You think I can't tell whether you're being sincere?"

"Everyone knows tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding. You pop up out of nowhere with that passive-aggressive little comment just so people will laugh at Graham?"

"You owe Graham an apology! He's so upset over your comment he can barely hold it together!"

A man's choked sobbing came through the phone:

"Carrie, forget it! I shouldn't have asked for your help. I'll go schedule the procedure right now and terminate the pregnancy. So what if I can never be a father? That's still better than being called a homewrecker!"

Carrie's voice melted instantly. She soothed Graham Simmons the way someone would comfort a child:

"Graham, you are not a homewrecker! Once we get the certificate tomorrow, we'll be legally married. Recognized by law!"

"Don't listen to people who talk without thinking! If anyone dares laugh at you, I'll tear them apart myself!"

Graham only sobbed harder:

"But what about Wilfred? Canceling the wedding must be killing him. You should just go terminate the pregnancy and have the wedding tomorrow like you planned..."

Carrie's voice grew even softer, edged with anxiety:

"Graham, I already worked it all out with him. He just has to wait three years and he'll get what he wants. It's not like I'm going to disappear on him."

"Stop being sad, okay? When you're upset, the baby and I feel it too, and then my stomach starts hurting again."

"And if you cry your eyes swollen, how are you going to be a handsome groom tomorrow?"

Graham broke into a tearful laugh.

Carrie let out a breath of relief, and when she spoke to me again, her tone had softened considerably:

"Wilfred, why aren't you saying anything? Hurry up and apologize to Graham!"

I clenched my fists, cursing myself for being stupid enough to like and comment on that post.

But I hadn't done anything wrong. Why should I apologize?

"Carrie, what if I say no?"

She faltered for a beat, then raised her voice in disbelief:

"Wilfred, push this any further and it's going to get ugly! I'm pregnant. My emotions are already all over the place. And you're deliberately upsetting the father of my child, deliberately making me angry. Do you have any idea how selfish that is?"

"Fine, don't apologize. Then make it right with actions! Call everyone and tell them the wedding's off because you changed your mind!"

As if afraid I'd refuse, she hung up immediately.

Then sent me a text:

Wilfred, I'm begging you, please stop making this harder than it has to be. Graham and I are just signing a piece of paper. It doesn't mean anything. Canceling the wedding is just so we can save your dream ceremony for the right time.

The familiar words stung my eyes until they burned.

The right time.

I'd been hearing that for eight years. Nearly three thousand days and nights, waiting for her to marry me.

Instead, I'd waited just long enough to watch her become someone else's legal wife.

Carrie, I'm done waiting for you.

Because we were never right for each other.

She recalled the message.

Then sent a new one:

That last message wasn't something Graham should see. He's sensitive and reads too much into things. Just do what I asked, okay? Whatever I owe you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you after those three years.

I actually laughed out loud.

I waited two minutes. Sure enough, she recalled that message too.

So which one of us was she really lying to? Me, or herself?

Her childhood sweetheart wanted to be a father, and somehow she'd volunteered to carry the baby for him?

Even if I took a massive step back and accepted that she was just "helping out," why did she care so much about Graham's feelings over the promises she'd made to me?

She'd gone this far just so her childhood friend could play daddy.

So how exactly had that child been conceived?

I shook my head, forcing the ugly speculation out of my mind.

I typed a quick "okay" and hit send.

A red exclamation mark appeared beside the message.

She'd already deleted me from her contacts. To keep Graham happy.

Just as well.

I didn't dwell on it. I posted an announcement on social media that the wedding was off.

Immediately, people started asking why.

Not wanting to stir up drama, I repeated Carrie's version of events: I'd decided I wasn't ready to get married yet.

But my friends flooded my inbox, telling me I was an idiot:

"Wilfred, Carrie isn't that broke little nobody anymore. She's the kind of woman every man wants. You call off the wedding now, you're practically handing your wife to someone else on a silver platter."

I didn't reply.

Because Carrie was already someone else's wife.

Shortly after I made the post, Graham sent me a photo of their marriage certificate.

His tone dripped with smugness as he thanked me for stepping aside.

"Wilfred, my man. Thanks for the assist. Carrie and I were originally getting the certificate tomorrow, but she pulled some strings and got it rushed through today just to make me feel better!"

I didn't bother responding. Delete. Block. Done.

My phone buzzed. My mother called, her voice sharp with fury.

"Are you out of your mind? The fruit's right there on the branch and you won't pick it! What kind of game are you playing? By the time you decide you want to get married, she might not want you anymore!"

I let out a quiet laugh.

"What if she's the one who doesn't want to get married? To me?"

My mother went silent for a beat, then her scolding came back twice as fierce.

"Then you clearly did something wrong! Swallow your pride and sweet-talk her. You've spent years building her up from nothing. Don't tell me you're going to walk away with nothing to show for it!"

Eight years with Carrie. She always said the same thing: career first, family later.

But when she finally made it, the family she wanted wasn't with me.

It wasn't that I hadn't tried. Trying just didn't matter.

For eight years, I'd shelved my own dreams to help build hers. When we lived in that basement apartment, she ate instant noodles while I filled up on the broth.

I'd proposed more times than I could count, all for the chance to call her my wife.

She'd gotten pregnant three times without telling me, and three times she'd ended it. I'd swallowed that too.

All because she said the timing wasn't right. She didn't want a child to suffer alongside us.

I loved her, so whatever she said, no matter how deeply it cut, I gave her what she wanted.

Just like tonight. She said she wanted to get a marriage license with her childhood sweetheart.

In that moment, even as my heart split open, I felt a strange sense of relief.

Better this way. At least I wouldn't have to keep groveling in the dirt, waiting for her to marry me.

My mom was still on the phone, chattering away about how to win a girl's heart. The grievances piled up in my chest suddenly lost all desire to be spoken.

"Mom, the wedding's off. I'm not marrying her."

I hung up and called the wedding planning company to cancel tomorrow's ceremony.

The emcee went quiet for a beat before speaking.

"Ms. Delgado already called about this. But she asked us to keep the decorations and banners in storage for three years. That's going to be tough. Most of it's single-use material..."

It hit me instantly. It wasn't that she hadn't had time to notify the guests on both sides.

She just didn't want to deal with the questions.

And she assumed I'd be like those cheap decorations, sitting in storage, waiting for her for three years.

"Throw it all out. Even if it weren't disposable, three years in storage would rot it."

Just like her love for me.

It would fade with time until nothing remained.

After I hung up, I pulled up Isabella Delgado's number and stared at it, dreading the conversation.

She despised Graham. If she found out her daughter had already gotten a marriage license with him, she'd probably have a stroke.

I took a deep breath and wired back the eighty-eight thousand dollars of dowry money she'd transferred to me.

I counted to three in my head. The phone rang.

"Wilfred, why did you send the money back?"

"Mom, Carrie and I are putting the wedding on hold. I'm going abroad for three years."

Even though I was telling the truth, Isabella was too sharp not to sense something was wrong.

"Did Carrie do something to hurt you? I'm going over there right now! The wedding is happening tomorrow, and that's final!"

"Ma'am, the wedding really can't go forward..."

But Isabella had already hung up.

That was Carrie's headache now, figuring out how to handle her own mother.

And it was time for me to pack and leave.

The apartment was decked out for a newlywed couple. Every detail reflected the happy life I'd imagined after the wedding.

Now every single one of them was a blade buried in my chest.

There wasn't much to take. One suitcase, not even full.

But there was plenty to throw away.

By the time I finished, I noticed Carrie had called me several times.

Didn't take a genius to figure out why. She was going to blame me for not handling Isabella.

I left the key on the entryway table and grabbed the last framed wedding photo on my way out.

I walked straight into Carrie.

The photo crashed to the floor and shattered.

A shard sliced across the top of my foot, and blood welled up immediately.

Carrie shoved Graham behind her, shielding him, and glared at me.

"Wilfred, what the hell? Didn't you see Graham standing there? What if you'd hurt him?"

She didn't see the blood pooling on my foot. Instead, she crouched down and carefully picked a speck of glass no bigger than a pea off Graham's shoe.

I had no interest in watching her dote on another man. I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.

She caught the suitcase in her peripheral vision and scrambled to her feet, grabbing my arm.

"Wilfred, where are you going?"

I was about to answer when her phone rang.

I saw the caller ID. Isabella.

She picked up, irritation bleeding through her voice.

"Fine! I know! It's not canceled! I'll smooth things over with him! Don't worry!"

She hung up and turned to me.

"Wilfred, my mom says the wedding has to go ahead tomorrow as planned."

"I don't want to upset her, so let's keep everything the way it is. But can you be the one who runs?"

"My mom adores you. If you're the runaway groom, she won't blame me. And I can explain it to her later, tell her I only got the license with Graham because I was upset."