At the singles party, my boyfriend and some friends were drinking and playing games.

He was red-faced and tipsy, holding hands with his first love.

"If I hadn't been late that day, you'd be my wife now."

Everyone turned to me, clearly nervous that I might make a scene.

I smiled warmly, took off my wedding ring, and sincerely said, "Congrats on your upcoming wedding. Here's to two kids in three years and three more in five."

——

A month ago, Valentine's Day, was supposed to be the day we tried on wedding dresses.

I arrived at the shop early, waiting for him.

I went over every dress style again and again.

The shop staff whispered among themselves, and a kind employee kept bringing me fresh cups of coffee.

But Jackson Ellis, my fiancé, still didn't show up.

I looked at our conversation, all my messages unanswered, and dialed his number repeatedly.

After what felt like the hundredth try, he finally answered.

"Jackson, is there traffic or something? It's been three hours. Where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Aurora. I forgot. I'm tied up right now. Can we reschedule?"

The background noise was chaotic, not the sound of a meeting.

I turned away and said quietly, "You did this last time, too. Today was your dedicated time. You're telling me you forgot?"

"I'm really sorry, Aurora. I'm just busy right now. I'll call you later…"

Then I heard a woman's voice on the line.

"Jackson, how does this dress look?"

"You…"

Before I could ask anything else, the call ended.

I recognized the voice. It was Rebecca Joyce's, his first love.

I checked Rebecca's social media and, sure enough, she'd posted a photo an hour ago. In it, she was playfully posing in front of a mirror, linked arm-in-arm with a man.

[Shopping with someone to carry my bags. Life is so sweet.]

Ugh, it's her again.

I turned off my phone, ignoring the contents.

Surprisingly, I wasn't even upset. It was all too predictable.

Of course, it was her.

No one but Rebecca could make Jackson miss an appointment.

Jackson is usually so punctual, disciplined, and hates it when his plans are disrupted.

But not when it comes to her.

I've lost count of how many times we've argued because of his broken promises, all of them related to her.

Once, on her birthday, he even gave her my wedding ring.

He said she liked it and told me not to make a fuss, promising to get me a bigger one.

He said he preferred women who were understanding.

It was infuriating. That ring was meant for us, carefully chosen and designed by a jeweler over six months according to my specifications.

How could she just take it?

But he didn't seem to grasp my anger, instead brushing off my hand with impatience. "Is it really worth getting so worked up over? It's not like I'm not buying you another one."

"Can't you stop being so sensitive? We're getting married; there's no chance for me and her. Isn't that enough?"

We were just never on the same page.

After that, we went through a long period of cold silence.

It wasn't always like this.

I used to dread fighting with him. Every argument felt like the world was collapsing, making my heart race and leaving me anxious and sleepless.

I'd even wait until he woke up the next day to apologize, afraid to disturb his rest.

He'd act like he already knew everything, giving me half-hearted kisses and hugs, just enough to make me behave.

It was always like this.

My emotions and thoughts were completely under his control.

After all, I was the one who loved him so deeply and fought for this relationship.

I had to be careful with everything I said and did, terrified he might break up with me if I upset him.

But for an important occasion like trying on wedding dresses, he was the one who set the date.

I knew it meant a lot for him to make time for this, so I agreed and even sent him a few cute emojis.

In reality, I didn't feel the excitement I'd imagined. There was more calm and resignation.

But being stood up again still hurt.

Aurora, you really did this to yourself!

You fell for his empty promises once more.

After leaving the bridal shop, I went to a photo studio and had several sets of pictures taken, from school uniforms to wedding gowns, even though I was the only one in them.

It was my way of saying goodbye to the past.

As for everything related to Jackson, I've given up.

This was just my way of giving my youth a perfect ending.

When I got home, it was already late.

Jackson still hadn't come back, and seeing my phone with no new messages, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly at myself.

After a shower, I went to the spare room to sleep. As I was drifting off, I felt a pair of large hands roaming over me, and the cold made me jolt awake.

I looked up to find Jackson, smelling of alcohol, his face flushed, and his shirt wide open.

"Darling, my head is pounding."

I was fed up with this man.

Out partying and drinking, never considering anyone else's feelings when he got home, and always focused only on himself.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Don't even think about sleeping. Get up, I need some hangover soup. Why didn't you have it ready?"

His alcohol-soaked head was right in my face, making me feel nauseous.

I was done.

I pushed him away. "Jackson, you're stink. Stay away from me."

But he didn't get the hint and kept right on, so I got out of bed and threw off the covers.

"You're an adult. If you can't handle your drinks, don't drink! There's no hangover soup, so order takeout yourself."

"I'm too dizzy to order."

"Seriously?" I was so frustrated I almost laughed.

When I was sick with a high fever and asked him to order me some porridge, he told me I must be dizzy, and my hands must be broken.

"So, what about your hands? Did they break? Can't you order for yourself?" I threw his own words back at him.

"Aurora, are you still mad?"

He stopped pretending, no longer acting drunk. He steadied himself and took a few steps.

"Sorry, Aurora. This time it's my fault."

"When is it not your fault?" I snapped.

Jackson's face darkened. Normally, I'd accept his apologies, but not this time.

"Rebecca has an important interview. She just came back to the country, and her job situation is unstable. This job is crucial for her."

"So?"

"As a friend, I couldn't just ignore her situation, so I…"

"So, you chose her over your fiancée and your first love."

"Aurora, don't be like this."

"Jackson, are you some sort of expert or fashion guru? Why does it matter what she wears to her interview? Are you the interviewer? I didn't know you had such a thing for carrying women's bags."

"Aurora, she just came back and doesn't have many friends. Can't you understand?"

"And what about me? I sat alone in the bridal shop for three hours, being talked about by the staff. Did you ever consider my feelings?"

"Jackson, do you really believe what you're saying? How many times has this happened? Do I need to remind you? You picked her up from the airport, skipped dinner with my parents, gave away the wedding ring I loved, and now you're helping her find a place instead of being with me. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"What about next time? On our wedding day, if she tells you she's sick and wants to have a wedding with you, will you drop everything for her?"

"Aurora! Enough! You're acting like a harpy. How many times have I told you that Rebecca and I are just friends? Is it wrong for me to help her out?"

Is she your only friend? All your old classmates are around. Why does she always come to you?

But before I could say more, Jackson's phone rang. His annoyed expression shifted instantly to one of tenderness.

"Rebecca, don't worry. Take your time and tell me everything."

I could hear Rebecca's cries coming through the phone.

"Jackson, I'm in so much pain. My head feels like it's going to burst, I think I have a fever. I'm feeling terrible and I'm really scared. Can you come over and be with me?"

"Hold on, I'm on my way!"

I watched Jackson's every move with a detached curiosity. How would he handle this?

He turned to me, full of apologies. "Aurora, stay calm. I need to step out for a bit. Don't wait up for me."

"Next time, I'll be with you to try the wedding dresses next time."

He said this and rushed out, practically running.

I couldn't believe a word he said anymore.

I took another shower, letting the water cascade over me.

It was strange. I wasn't sad, and I didn't feel like crying.

I suddenly felt drained.

I wanted to give up on this one-sided relationship that seemed to only matter to me.

I pulled out the notebook from my nightstand, the one I kept for tracking my relationship.

I'd promised myself I'd forgive him 99 times, but on the hundredth, I'd be done for good.

Flipping through the pages, I saw the records had long surpassed 99.

I'd just been holding on for too long.

I closed the notebook, packed up my things, and left.

I had to give Jackson some credit.

He always complained about my stuff cluttering the house, so I kept a place of my own.

I used to live in the same neighborhood, but when that place was sold, I found a rental closer to work.

It was handy for when I had late nights and needed a break during the day.

Jackson never seemed to notice how few things I had.

He once looked at my nearly empty closet and said it was how a wife should be, minimal and not overly glamorous.

I glanced at his colorful shirts hanging in the closet and stayed silent.

My phone buzzed unexpectedly.

I thought it might be Jackson realizing I was missing, but it was a message from Rebecca.

Jackson was staying over at her place, with clothes scattered everywhere.

[Jackson was too tired, so he's sleeping here for now. Don't worry.]

Worry about what?

I looked at the corner of the bed, where Jackson's once-toned abs seemed like a distant memory.

When we were together, his six-pack was my favorite.

Now that even that was gone, there was nothing left to hold on to.

I lay exhausted on the bed, looking around at the cozy little home I'd created. I remembered when we first moved in.

He held me close and took in the room.

"We should put up our photos here and make a photo wall. You love the piano, so we'll get one and set it up in that corner. You can play, I'll sing. We'll snuggle up, drink some red wine, and watch movies…"

"Aurora, even if I can't give you much right now, believe me, when we have our own place, it'll be all your design. You'll decide everything. You're the heart of our home."

In that moment, surrounded by his love, I truly thought I'd found a place in his heart.

Maybe he really did love me then.

Maybe, if Rebecca hadn't returned, we could have had it all, dating, marriage, kids, a simple life together.

But sadly, none of that can be reclaimed.

Everything has changed.