On the day of our engagement, Felix Heath vanished. No calls answered, no messages returned.

My parents and I nearly lost our minds. We were sure something had happened to him on the road, and we came close to calling the police.

After a lot of trouble, we got through to his driver, who hemmed and hawed on the other end.

"Mr. Heath is meeting with a client alongside Miss Simmons... He can't get away."

I swallowed my anger and was about to demand he put Felix on the line when Felix's own message came through.

*Our families have known each other for over twenty years. Don't get so hung up on these formalities.*

*It's her first time handling a deal on her own, and the other side is a slippery old hand. I have to make sure she's safe.*

*I'll add thirty thousand to the wedding fund. Don't be upset.*

My father's face darkened. He turned to the window and lit a cigarette, his hand shaking.

My mother's eyes went red. Her voice caught as she looked at me.

"Sweetheart, are you sure you want to marry him?"

"I watched him grow up, but that doesn't give him the right to take you for granted like this..."

Seeing them like that, my chest ached like a needle had gone through it.

I patted the back of my mother's hand, put on a smile, and turned to our guests.

"Everyone, please, eat. The engagement is off. Here's to me being single again!"

……

Through the whole meal, the private room buzzed with whispers.

My parents kept smiling through it, all the way until the last guest had gone.

I watched their backs, my eyes burning.

They'd worked hard and honestly their whole lives, waiting for a day like this, dressed in clothes they'd picked out with such care to host my engagement dinner. And it had come to this.

The guilt I'd been holding back finally gave way, and my voice broke as I lowered my head.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I embarrassed you."

My mother turned, tucked the loose hair at my temple behind my ear, and smiled.

"Don't talk nonsense. You're the proudest thing your father and I have. Whatever you do, we're behind you."

My father, who was never good with words, nodded.

"Your mother's right. No matter what, we've got your back."

As he spoke, he took out his phone and sent Felix's wedding fund straight back.

Worried I hadn't eaten enough, my parents went to the store for the dishes I loved and came home to cook.

I'd just changed into something comfortable and sat down when Felix arrived.

Our families had been neighbors since we were small. Later his father died in an accident and his mother remarried, leaving him on his own.

My parents saw how young he was and felt for him, always calling him over to eat with us.

One thing led to another, and he learned the code to our door.

In all those years, we never changed it.

When he saw me sitting on the couch in my loungewear, his brow knotted.

He was about to speak, but then he caught sight of the two figures bustling in the kitchen, and he gripped my wrist and pulled me into my room.

He shut the door, his face full of anger.

"Bianca Hughes, what's the meaning of this?"

"Turning the engagement into some single-again celebration? How am I supposed to face all those relatives now?"

I looked at him quietly and let out a small laugh.

"Oh? So you do remember we have relatives?"

"You didn't show up to your own engagement and humiliated my parents in front of all those people. What was the meaning of that?"

"Felix, if you don't want this marriage, no one's holding a knife to your throat forcing you into it!"

Maybe it was the first time he'd ever heard me, the one who always went along with him, say something like that. He froze for a moment, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

He crouched down, took my hand, and softened his tone.

"Bee, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking it through."

"But have you forgotten what happened back when you first started working, when that business partner groped you?"

"You cried so hard that day, and instead of taking your side, your boss blamed you for losing the deal."

"I just didn't want Evelyn Simmons to go through what you went through. Can't you understand that?"

I looked down at the scar on the back of my hand, and something bitter spread through me.

Of course I hadn't forgotten. The man had been notorious in the industry back then, known for never keeping his hands to himself.

The moment the project was assigned to me, I told Felix.

We'd agreed: if the man ever tried anything, I'd send him three random numbers as a signal, and he'd come up right away to get me out.

But when the day came, I sent message after message. Not a single reply. Forget coming to save me.

In the end it was a pot of boiling water on the table that saved me.

While the man screamed, I stumbled out the door and ran down the stairs.

Only to find Felix slumped in the driver's seat, fast asleep.

I didn't wake him. With shaking hands, I called the police.

He only stirred when the officers arrived.

At the hospital he cried and apologized, saying work had been crushing lately, that he hadn't been sleeping, that he'd only meant to close his eyes for a minute and had drifted off by accident.

Looking at the dark circles under his eyes, at how exhausted and guilty he seemed, I forgave him in the end.

And now he was pouring that same guilt into making it up to someone else.

And still expected me to understand. To forgive.

Reading my silence as surrender, a faint smile crept onto his face.

"Don't be angry, Bee. I'll apologize to your parents properly in a bit. We'll pick another day for the engagement, and this time I'll be there for every—"

"There's no need. There's nothing left between us."

I forced down the catch in my throat, pulled my hand free from his, and cut him off in a flat voice.

"Check your account. See if the wedding money's gone through."

"And once it has, get out of my family's home."

Felix's face changed. He glanced at the text on his phone and shot to his feet.

"Bianca! Eight years together, and you really want to break up with me?"

The words had barely left him when crying drifted in from the living room.

I didn't answer. I just pulled the door open and walked toward the sound.

The door stood open. On the coffee table sat a fruit basket and a case of milk.

My mother sat on the sofa. My father stood in the kitchen doorway in his apron, his face dark.

Evelyn wrung her fingers, eyes rimmed red, her voice breaking.

"I'm so sorry, sir, ma'am. Today was my fault."

"I shouldn't have asked Mr. Heath to come with me. Please don't be upset."

I turned to look at Felix.

"You told her to come?"

"Felix, is there something wrong with your head?"

Seeing me, Evelyn hurried forward.

"Bianca, please don't blame Mr. Heath. I came on my own."

"I really didn't know today was your engagement with Mr. Heath. If I'd known, I never would have asked him to help me."

"I won't do it again next time—"

"Next time?"

I let out a low, soft laugh and cut her off.

"Should I expect a next time at the wedding, then? Or maybe the wedding night?"

"Miss Simmons depends on your Mr. Heath so much, the two of you might as well just be together every single day."

Evelyn's head came up, and the tears trembling in her eyes spilled over all at once.

"Bianca, I know you resent me because of today, but you can't say things like that about me."

"It was my first business trip, and it was in Mr. Heath's hometown. He's the only person I know there—"

Before I could answer, Felix stepped forward and put himself in front of Evelyn.

He stared at me, his voice low and heavy.

"Bianca, doesn't everything have a limit?"

"Why are you picking on a kid like this?"

I lifted my head and looked at him, steady, even as my nose began to sting.

"I'm giving her a hard time?"

"That's right."

"Apologize to her!"

Felix turned his body, leaving only half of Evelyn's face visible.

"If you don't apologize, I'll—"

"You'll what to my daughter?!"

My father rushed in from the kitchen and pulled me behind him, his stooped shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

He'd lived most of his life without ever raising his voice at anyone. Now he was shouting.

"Felix! I'm still alive, and I don't need you to discipline my child!"

My mother stood up from the couch too and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

Felix took two steps back, his words tumbling out fast and rattled.

"Sir, ma'am, that's not what I meant—"

Before he could finish, Evelyn bit her lip, looked at him, and shook her head.

"Everything that went wrong is because I'm not good enough. I'm the one who should apologize to Bianca and her family."

As she said it, she turned, opened the high-proof whiskey my father had kept in the cabinet for years—the bottle he'd saved to celebrate my engagement to Felix—tipped her head back, and drank.

The first mouthful made her clutch her chest and cough.

A few seconds later, her pale skin began to flush.

"She's allergic to alcohol!"

Felix reacted fast, snatching the bottle out of her hand and hurling it to the floor.

It shattered against the ground, the smell of whiskey spreading through the room.

He swept Evelyn up in his arms and strode for the door, not forgetting to grab the bag she'd left in the entryway and sling it over his shoulder.

Just as he was about to step out, he turned back.

"Bee, I'm taking her to the hospital first. You and your parents calm down."

"I'm not agreeing to a breakup."

"Wait for me to come back."

And with that, he walked out without a moment's hesitation, his stride long.

I looked at the broken glass and the spilled whiskey on the floor, a bitterness climbing up my throat, took my parents' hands, and said,

"Dad, Mom, didn't you two want to go stay down south for a while?"

"A friend of mine runs a company down there, and he's short-staffed right now. He's asked me to come head it up."

"If you're up for it, you can leave tonight. Once I hand off my work here, I'll come find you?"

The two of them exchanged a glance, and my mother nodded.

"Sure. Your dad and I haven't taken a single trip since we retired anyway."

So my father went to the kitchen to bring out the food, my mother packed, and I cleaned up the mess.

Then I took out my phone and texted that friend back, asked him to arrange things for my parents, and changed the lock code on the apartment door.

After dinner, I saw the two of them onto their flight and went back to the city where the company was.

By the time I arrived, it was already eight at night.

Cabs were lined up outside the airport, and a young college couple was walking ahead of me.

The girl was perched on her suitcase. The boy carried her backpack on his back, held her half-finished iced latte in one hand, and pushed the suitcase with the other.

The two of them talked and laughed, and passersby kept turning to look.

Watching them from behind, I suddenly thought back to the first two years Felix and I were together.

Back then, we'd just started college.

After his mother had a child with her current husband, she cut him off—no more living expenses, no more tuition.

Not yet twenty, he ran himself ragged between classes and part-time jobs.

And since we were dating, there were meals and dates, of course, and his expenses jumped all at once.

Knowing the pressure he was under, my parents gave me a sum of money—a dating fund—to spend when the two of us went out.

But after a few times, Felix noticed something was off.

From then on, every time we went out to eat, he'd make an excuse to leave the table, pay the bill ahead of time, and come back.