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

That evening, I got a text from her.

Reuben's been diagnosed with a terminal illness. He doesn't have long.

He loves me so much. I can't go through with a wedding right now and break his heart.

I need to go abroad with him for treatment. A year at least, two at most. I promise I'll come back and marry you.

I'll need to focus on him during this time, so I might go off the grid. Make up whatever excuse you want for postponing the wedding. If you're worried about losing face, just blame it on me.

I typed back a single word:

Okay.

If this engagement continued, that would be the real embarrassment.

……

Almost simultaneously, Reuben Simmons posted on Instagram.

The photo showed the two of them with freshly shaved heads, cheeks pressed together.

In their clasped hands were two plane tickets to France.

The caption read:

She told me she won't let me die, because love can cure anything.

In the comments, Andrea Rowe's friends were falling over themselves to like and praise her. What a selfless woman. Such boundless compassion. They pledged to chip in for Reuben's treatment however they could.

Not a single person mentioned me.

As if tomorrow's wedding was never supposed to exist in the first place.

I let out a bitter laugh, hit "like" on the post, and left a comment:

Wishing you a speedy recovery!

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

But a second later, it was deleted.

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

"Ethan Calloway, what the hell was that? Leaving a comment just to start something?"

I was momentarily speechless.

"I wasn't starting anything. I genuinely wished him good health."

Andrea had already made up her mind that I was causing trouble.

"If you were genuine, you'd do what everyone else did and just send money instead of sitting there being petty and jealous!"

"Nobody brought up the wedding because they didn't want to make Reuben uncomfortable, and then you just pop up with 'wishing you a speedy recovery'? You're twisting the knife on purpose!"

"Apologize to Reuben! He's devastated because of your comment!"

From the other end of the line came the sound of a man choking back sobs.

"Andrea, forget it! I shouldn't have told you about my diagnosis. The doctors said I don't have long. I need to stop clinging to impossible hopes! I'll cancel the tickets right now. I can't be selfish enough to ruin your wedding just because I'm dying!"

Andrea's voice instantly went soft, soothing him like he was a child.

"Reuben, just because they can't treat it here doesn't mean there's no hope overseas! How could a wedding be more important than your life? No matter how long the treatment takes, I'll be right there with you. Until you're better."

Reuben dissolved into sobs.

"But what about Ethan? He must be so hurt. I'll just go abroad alone. You two can have your wedding tomorrow as planned..."

Andrea's voice grew even softer, edged with urgency.

"You going alone would worry me even more! The surgical consent forms need a family member's signature. Who would you have?"

"I already worked it out with Ethan. Two years, tops, and he gets what he wants. It's not like I'm going to run away."

"Stop crying! You'll start hyperventilating again."

"And if your eyes are all swollen, the border agent won't think your passport photo matches tomorrow. Then what?"

Reuben let out a teary laugh.

Andrea exhaled with relief, then turned back to me. Her tone was slightly less sharp.

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

My nails dug into my palms. I cursed myself for being stupid enough to like and comment on that post in the first place.

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

"Andrea, what if I say no?"

She faltered for a beat, then her voice shot up in disbelief.

"Ethan, if you keep this up, it's going to get ugly! Reuben is a sick man. The last thing he needs is emotional stress, and you're deliberately upsetting him. How can you be so inconsiderate?"

"Fine, don't apologize. Then make it up to me with actions! Call everyone and tell them you're the one who doesn't want to get married!"

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

Then sent me a text:

Ethan, I'm begging you, please stop making a scene. I'm just going with Reuben for his treatment. It's not like I'm never coming back to marry you. Canceling the wedding is just so we can save your dream wedding for the perfect moment.

Those familiar words stung my eyes until they burned.

The perfect moment.

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

And what I got instead was her leaving to be with another man for two years.

Andrea, I'm done waiting.

Because we were never right for each other.

She unsent the message.

Then a new one came through:

What I just sent isn't something Reuben should see. He's been really sensitive since he got sick. Just do what I asked, okay? Whatever I owe you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up after these two years! You want kids, right? When I come back, I'll give you a whole football team!

I couldn't help but laugh.

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

So which was it? Was she lying to me, or to herself?

She'd already made up her mind to stay by Reuben's side until he recovered. Why bother promising me two years?

If his condition never improved, was I supposed to wait forever?

I shook my head, forcing those maddening hypotheticals out of my mind.

I typed a single word: OK. Hit send.

All I got back was a red exclamation mark.

She'd already deleted me. Couldn't wait to smooth things over with Reuben.

Just as well.

I didn't dwell on it. I posted on social media announcing the wedding was off.

People started asking why almost immediately.

I didn't want to stir up drama, so I stuck to Andrea's script and said it was my decision.

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

"Ethan, Andrea isn't the broke girl she used to be. Now? Every guy out there would kill for a shot with her. You call off the wedding out of nowhere, and you're basically handing your wife to someone else on a silver platter."

I didn't reply.

Because Andrea was already someone else's wife.

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

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

Big thanks for the assist, bro! Andrea was originally going to come with me as my girlfriend, but to make it easier to sign medical paperwork on my behalf, she pulled some strings and fast-tracked a marriage license!

I didn't bother responding. Deleted the message, blocked his number. One smooth motion.

My phone buzzed again. My mother, calling to chew me out.

"Are you out of your mind? The fruit's right there on the branch and you won't pick it! What kind of stunt are you pulling? Wait too long and she might not want to marry you at all!"

A quiet laugh escaped me.

"What if she's the one who doesn't want to marry me?"

She went silent for a beat, then tore into me harder than before.

"Then you obviously did something wrong! Swallow your pride and sweet-talk her. You spent all those years helping her build her empire. Don't you dare walk away with nothing to show for it!"

Eight years with Andrea. She always said the same thing: career first, then family.

But when she finally made it, giving me a family wasn't what she had in mind.

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

For eight years, I gave up my own dreams to help her build her company. She feasted while I survived on scraps, and I never complained. All I wanted was to marry her, to stand beside her as her husband where the whole world could see.

But she terminated three pregnancies rather than walk down the aisle.

Every time, the same reason: the timing wasn't right. She didn't want a child to suffer through the hard years.

I loved her. So no matter how much it gutted me, whatever she said, I gave her what she wanted.

Like tonight, when she said she wanted to stay by Reuben's side while he got treatment.

She was the same woman who used to complain about him following her around like a lovesick puppy. She'd even said his affection made her sick.

In that moment, even though my heart felt like it was being carved open, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Maybe it was better this way. At least I wouldn't have to keep waiting in the dirt for her to finally marry me.

My mom was still rattling on about how to win a woman back, but the grievances lodged in my chest suddenly lost their will to be spoken.

"Mom, the wedding's off. I'm never marrying her."

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

The emcee paused for a beat before speaking.

"Ms. Rowe already called about this. But she asked us to keep the decorations and banners in storage for two years. That's going to be difficult. Most of those materials are single-use."

It clicked instantly. She'd picked that fight on purpose, just so I'd be the one fielding all the awkward questions.

And she still believed I'd wait for her, like those cheap decorations gathering dust in a warehouse. Two years. Just sitting there.

"Throw it all out. Even if it weren't disposable, it'd be rotted after two years."

Just like her love for me.

It would fade with time until there was nothing left.

After hanging up, I pulled up my mother-in-law's number and felt a headache building behind my eyes.

Edna Rowe despised Reuben. 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 the $120,000 dowry back to her account. Every cent.

I counted to three in my head.

The phone rang.

"Ethan, why did you send the dowry back?"

"Mom, Andrea and I aren't getting married right now. Maybe in a couple of years."

Mrs. Rowe was sharp. She caught the lie before it fully left my mouth.

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

"Mrs. Rowe, the wedding really can't go forward..."

But she'd already hung up.

That was Andrea's problem now. She could figure out how to handle her own mother.

And I needed to pack and leave.

The apartment was still dressed for a celebration. Every detail was something I'd arranged with my own hands, each one a small monument to the happy life I'd imagined after the wedding.

Now every single one of them felt like a blade in my chest.

There wasn't much to take. I couldn't even fill one suitcase.

But there was plenty to throw away.

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

Didn't take a genius to figure out why. She wanted to know why I hadn't handled her mother.

I set the apartment key on the entryway table, grabbed the last framed wedding portrait, and headed for the door.

I walked straight into Andrea.

The portrait slipped from my hands and shattered on the floor, splitting into pieces.

A shard sliced across the top of my foot. Blood welled up immediately.

Andrea shoved Reuben behind her, shielding him, and glared at me.

"Ethan, what the hell? Didn't you see Reuben 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 Reuben's shoe.

I had no interest in watching her dote on another man. I grabbed my suitcase and walked past them.

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

"Ethan, where are you going?"

I was about to answer when her phone rang.

I saw the caller ID. Her mother.

She picked up, irritation bleeding through her voice.

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

She hung up and turned to me.

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

"I don't want to upset her, so let's keep everything on track. But can you be the one who runs? Fly to France. I'll book your ticket and everything."

"My mom adores you. If you're the runaway groom, she'll insist I go after you. That way I can pretend I'm overseas chasing you down."