My boyfriend was used to living alone, and more often than not, he simply forgot I existed.

When the concert tickets went on sale, he bought exactly one.

"I'm sorry. I'll go by myself this time. We'll go together next time, I promise."

Halfway through a trip, he vanished without a word.

"I'm sorry. I suddenly felt like heading south to see the ocean, and I forgot you were even here. I'll make it up to you next time, I swear."

I kept making excuses for him. Oscar Weiss was an orphan. He'd lived alone for over twenty years.

Having someone suddenly in his life was bound to take some getting used to.

Then came the day of our wedding photo shoot, when he forgot me all over again and walked out the door without me.

"Lucille Simmons, I'm sorry. Let's reschedule the photos for another time."

By the time I read his text, I was already standing at the bridal photo studio.

I watched, frozen, as Oscar tucked his phone away and walked toward a woman in a wedding gown. Gwyneth Pruitt.

Gwyneth wore a wicked little grin.

"Did my dear best friend fall for your lies again?"

Something mocking flickered across Oscar's face.

"What lies? I'm just used to being alone. I forgot I had a girlfriend, that's all."

That was the moment it finally hit me.

Every single time Oscar had "forgotten" me, it had been a betrayal.

Fine. If he loved forgetting me so much.

Then I'd give him exactly what he wanted, and disappear from his world completely.

——

I turned to leave, fighting back tears, only to have a staff member step into my path.

"You must be the temp Chen sent over to help, right? Just call me Anne James while you're here."

She shoved a light reflector into my hands.

When I just stood there, dazed.

She pushed me off to the side of Oscar and Gwyneth.

"Hurry up and hold that reflector. Get in position. We've got a tight schedule today, so let's move."

Oscar's gaze settled on me.

His brow furrowed, and he came striding straight toward me.

"You—"

My heart slammed against my ribs, and without thinking, I felt a guilty urge to run.

Even though I wasn't the one in the wrong.

Just as I braced for him to recognize me, he suddenly thrust out a hand and shoved me backward.

"What is wrong with you? Can't you tell you're stepping on the gown?"

I landed hard on the floor, the impact knocking a sharp hiss out of me.

But he just crouched down, dabbing carefully at the black scuff on the gown with a wet wipe.

"Do you have any idea what this dress is worth? Could you even afford to replace it if you ruined it?"

I looked at the gown on Gwyneth's body, and a coppery sweetness rose in my throat.

That antique wedding gown was a gift my grandmother had left behind.

My grandmother had worn it at her wedding, and so had my mother. It meant the world to me.

And Gwyneth, the girl I'd grown up with since childhood, was tilting her head and smiling at me.

"So sorry. My fiancé just loves me so much that he gets a little protective. He didn't scare you, did he?"

Anne hurried over to apologize on my behalf.

"I'm so sorry. The girl's just a temp we called in last minute. She didn't mean it."

Only then did I notice that the baseball cap and mask I had on matched the studio staff's exactly.

No wonder they'd mistaken me for one of them.

I should have walked away. Instead, as if in a trance, I raised the reflector.

And watched Oscar and Gwyneth strike one intimate pose after another, right in front of me.

The tears spilled out before I could stop them.

Everyone assumed I was moved by the happiness of the couple.

The makeup artist standing beside me sighed.

"Mr. Weiss really is a wonderful husband. He had every inch of this set arranged by his own people. He said he wanted to give his wife the most beautiful photos possible."

My hand froze around the reflector.

This set was something I had designed myself, three days and three nights of work to put it together.

To commemorate the eight long years Oscar and I had spent in love.

During a break in the shoot, I stood with my head bowed, trying to pull myself together.

Then Oscar pointed at me.

"Hey, you. My fiancée's ankles are aching from these heels. Give them a rub."

The words had barely left his mouth.

Gwyneth's foot was already resting on my leg.

She reached down and swept the skirt aside. The tip of one long, manicured nail snagged on the lace trim of the hem.

With an impatient jerk, she yanked it free, and the lace tore clean through.

My breath caught, and I shot to my feet.

Gwyneth went sprawling flat on her back, the pain bringing instant tears to her eyes.

"Oscar..."

Oscar's face darkened in an instant.

"You crazy woman!"

His palm cracked across my cheek. The mask flew off my face, and a smear of red bloomed at the corner of my lip.

My face was bare to the air.

"Lucille?"

Gwyneth clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped.

Panic flickered across Oscar's face for only a heartbeat before his brow snapped into a frown.

"Lucille Simmons, you followed me here all along. Why didn't you just show yourself?

"So you disguised yourself as staff just to watch me make a fool of myself?"

I wiped the red from the corner of my mouth.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Twisting the blame onto me. It was a move he never tired of pulling.

Every time I caught him doing something wrong, he'd find some way to dig up a fault in me instead.

I used to think my patience could hold this relationship together.

But now I could see it plainly. His heart had been given to someone else long ago.

"Oscar, since you and Gwyneth already finished your wedding photos, congratulations. I wish you a happy marriage."

With that, I turned to leave.

Gwyneth chased after me and caught my hand.

"Lucille, you've got it all wrong."

She bit her lip, her glistening eyes the very picture of fragile innocence.

"I really was just passing by. I saw that Oscar had forgotten about you again, and I only wanted to help the two of you."

"These photos will all be edited afterward to put your face in."

Oscar stepped up beside her.

"Gwyneth is the best friend you've known since childhood. You're the one who introduced us in the first place. Surely you wouldn't suspect her?"

His eyes raked over my figure, a barely concealed distaste threading through his voice.

"And really, take a look at yourself. You think a body like that could even squeeze into a wedding gown?"

"She was kind enough to help you out, and instead of saying thank you, you deliberately got back at her and shoved her to the floor."

Oscar's gaze settled on Gwyneth, soft with concern.

My heart gave a sudden lurch, and the pain of it felt sharp and real.

Oscar knew. He knew perfectly well.

This past year I'd put on twenty pounds on purpose, so I could donate bone marrow for him.

And yet he was holding Gwyneth's figure up against mine, humiliating me in front of all these people.

I let out a cold laugh.

"Should I be thanking her too, for kissing and clinging all over my fiancé?"

"Take all the time you want with the photos. I won't be sticking around."

Gwyneth's face went pale.

"Lucille, aren't these just the standard poses for a wedding shoot? Don't think so lowly of us."

I wrenched my hand out of Gwyneth's grip and said, each word deliberate and clear.

"Our friendship ends right here."

Gwyneth's tears fell the moment I finished speaking.

I didn't soften. I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit.

"Gwyneth, ignore her."

Oscar reached out to stop her.

"I'd like to see how long she can keep up this tough act. Sooner or later she'll come crawling back, begging me to make up."

When I heard that, my steps only quickened.

It was the middle of the night before Oscar finally came home.

He carried a takeout container in his hand.

"You went the whole day without eating again, didn't you? I went out of my way to bring you seafood porridge. Hurry up and have some while it's hot."

I sat on the couch and didn't move.

An hour ago, Gwyneth had updated her social media feed.

"He said I worked so hard being the bride today, so he wanted to spoil me."

The photo with it was the two of them together.

Oscar was flashing a peace sign, his hands wrapped in gloves slick with red chili oil, and the bowl in front of Gwyneth was piled high with crawfish, all peeled and ready.

But in eight years, he had never once peeled crawfish for me.

He'd said, "Lucille, these are a pianist's hands. They're not for menial work."

Listening to the water running in the bathroom, I picked up my phone and sent a message to my boss.

"Mr. Gilbert, I've thought it over about the overseas posting to France. I'll take it."

I shut off the screen.

I got up, walked to the dining table, and lifted the lid off the bowl of porridge.

A few cabbage leaves floated in the golden broth. Every last piece of fresh shrimp and abalone was gone.

I let out a small, bitter laugh.

What was I still hoping for?

Gwyneth watched her figure. Whenever she had porridge, she only ate the seafood out of it.

This bowl was obviously her leftovers.

Oscar came out of his shower, saw the porridge on the table untouched, and immediately shouted toward me in the bedroom.

"Lucille, what are you sulking about now?"

I ignored him and packed my clothes and belongings into the suitcase, one piece at a time.

A loud slam.

He stormed into the study and shut the door.

Every time we fought, he moved into the study and froze me out.

Waiting for me to back down and come make peace.

But this time, once I finished packing, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.

This love, where the feeling only ran one way, I didn't want it anymore.

Early the next morning, I woke to the noise coming from the living room.

I got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom.

Gwyneth was holding out the wedding gown, freshly dry-cleaned.

"Lucille, I already took the gown to the shop and had it cleaned, and I fixed the torn lace too."

I unzipped the garment bag.

The whole gown had been altered top to bottom. There was nothing left of what it used to be.

Seeing my face fall, she explained sweetly.

"The cut of this gown was so dated, but lucky for you, your best friend's a designer. I redid it for you in the trendiest style there is right now."

"Try it on and see if it fits. Anything that's off, I'll fix it again."

I was shaking with rage. My palm cut an arc through the air.

"Gwyneth! You did this on purpose!"

"You knew exactly what this gown meant to me, and you destroyed it!"

I put everything I had into that slap.

Gwyneth's head snapped to the side.

"Lucille! Are you out of your mind?"

Oscar rushed over and rammed me aside with his shoulder.

"Gwyneth stayed up all night fixing your gown. Forget being grateful, how could you raise a hand to her?"

"Look at yourself in the mirror. You're acting like a shrew!"

Once Gwyneth got her bearings, she trembled and cried.

"Oscar, my face hurts so much. Is it scarred…"

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

Oscar scooped her up in his arms, grabbed the car keys, and went out the door.

I pulled down my collar.

Looking at my reddened shoulder, I suddenly felt at peace.

"Oscar, let's break up."

His steps faltered. He didn't turn around, and his back disappeared through the doorway.

I knew Oscar heard it.

Whether he took it seriously, or thought I was just throwing a tantrum, none of that mattered anymore.

Falling in love takes two people agreeing.

But breaking up, one is enough.

After I packed up everything in the house I couldn't take and dumped it in the trash, I rolled my suitcase to the door and took one last look at the home where I'd lived for five years.