He Faked an Emergency for My Cousin,So I Flew to Africa

1: 1

On Valentine's Day, my fiancé, Byron Gilbert, took the day off just to be with me. Except he insisted on bringing along my cousin, Stella Fox.

To satisfy Stella's craving for the roasted chestnuts sold on the South Side, I crossed half the city and stood in line for two hours.

I had just come out with the hot bag of chestnuts in my hands when Byron's message arrived.

"An emergency came in at the hospital, a major surgery. Heading back first. I'll drop Stella off on the way. Grab a cab home yourself."

It ached to think he hadn't even eaten, so I carried the chestnuts and hurried to the hospital.

And there, at the nurses' station, I heard the voice memo he'd sent, his laughter in it, being passed around as gossip.

"Dr. Gilbert is unbelievable. Told Dr. Henson there was an emergency, then turned right around and took Stella to a concert in the next city over."

"Stella just posted about it. There's a photo of the two of them cheek to cheek in the VIP section."

The chestnuts slipped from my hands and scattered across the floor.

I turned and pushed open the door to the department head's office.

"That confirmation form for the overseas medical aid mission. I'll sign it."

"The expedited paperwork, departure in three days. I'm doing it right now."

1

The department head took off his reading glasses and looked me over three times.

"Zoe Henson, are you sure about this? The overseas medical aid mission is two years, minimum. Your promotion to deputy department head at the end of the year..."

"I'm sure."

I pushed the confirmation form back to him, then pulled an expedited paperwork form out of the drawer and filled in my ID number.

His mouth opened, then closed. In the end he sighed and stamped the approval box.

As I walked out of the office, two residents were huddled together in the hallway over a phone.

"Look, look, front row of the VIP section! Dr. Gilbert is so romantic!"

"Isn't that Dr. Henson's cousin? She looks so young. That cheek-to-cheek shot is adorable..."

They glanced up, saw me, and went silent at once, the phone vanishing behind a back.

I walked past them, my face blank.

My steps didn't slow. My heartbeat didn't stumble.

I couldn't name the feeling. I only knew that five years of my life suddenly seemed absurd enough to laugh at.

Back at my desk, I opened my computer, archived the unfinished charts, and sent the handover list to the deputy team lead.

My phone lit up.

A message from Byron.

"Stella's a little carsick. I'll stay and have a meal with her before I head back. Get some sleep early."

I stared at the line of text for a moment, then opened the chat settings and turned off notifications.

I took a cab home, pushed open the door, and found half a wall of wedding supplies stacked in the living room.

The wedding banners, the invitations, the red bedding, the custom frame for our wedding portrait.

I found a black trash bag and started clearing from the entryway.

The cheap silver necklace he'd given me. The couples' mugs.

The pair of limited-edition sneakers, in the matching color he'd bought for me and Stella.

One by one, I threw it all into the bag.

My phone buzzed again.

Stella, sharing her social media post with me.

The picture was a hand resting on a steering wheel...

Byron's hand.

The caption was a single line:

"When you're the favorite, you even get chauffeured to concerts."

Followed by a cute little emoji.

I stared at that picture for a long time.

Then I tapped the like button.

I turned off the phone, picked up the trash bags, and went downstairs.

At the trash station at two in the morning, five years of love fit neatly into three bags.

Back in the empty bedroom, I opened my suitcase.

I stacked my passport, my medical license, and a few changes of clothes in neat rows.

Then I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling until dawn.