We hadn't even made it back home, but Chloe's phone kept buzzing every now and then. Every single one was a message from Jaxson checking to see if she got home safe.

So I unlocked her screen, thinking I should just shoot back a polite response on her behalf. But right before I typed anything, I saw her last message with one of her friends.

[This fake marriage is my last shot. If he doesn't come back, I'm really done.]

[Share the news about my wedding in the class group chat, but don't tell anyone else.]

My finger froze on the screen, and I slammed the phone shut and shoved it into Chloe's bag like it was on fire.

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get air into my lungs. Each time I tried to inhale, it felt like I was suffocating. I didn't even realize the tears were spilling out of my eyes again, hot and fast, soaking the collar of my shirt.

No wonder she asked me to marry her out of the blue three days ago when I least expected it. I had no ring, no plans, nothing ready.

She just brushed it off. "Don't bother," she said, like we weren't really going to a wedding.

She just had one request. "Don't tell our families."

I thought I had finally done it—I had won her over after eight long years.

But it turns out the wedding wasn't for her and me at all.

It was just a ploy to make her high school sweetheart jealous enough to come back. That was her real plan.

At that moment, any lingering hope I had for us was gone. I felt completely drained.

It didn't matter anymore. I was leaving soon, and they could do whatever they wanted.

When we got home, Chloe sobered up a bit. She didn't say a word to me; she just went straight to the bathroom to wash up.

I followed Jaxson's advice and made her some honey water. I figured, what the hell? I might as well make the last few days decent.

I'd barely sat down on the couch when my supervisor called, asking about my work handover before I left.

Right after hanging up, Chloe's annoyed voice cut through the silence, sharp and annoyed.

"Leavin'? Where are you goin'?"

She was drying her hair, looking at me with that blank expression I'd gotten so used to.

I handed her the honey water, trying to sound casual. "Just a business trip."

She didn't push for more, which hit harder than I wanted to admit.

She took the cup, ready to drink, but then her face twisted in irritation when she probably smelled the honey.

"Who taught you this?" she snapped, glaring at me. "Come on, stop reading crap on the net! What works for some people doesn't work for everyone!"

She slammed the cup on the table and stormed off to the bedroom.

I sank onto the couch with a bitter smile.

Of course. What worked for her high school sweetheart to win her wouldn't work for me.

The next day was supposed to be our photoshoot for the wedding. She woke up like it was nothing special at all, still as cold and distant as ever.

But after seeing how she acted so sweetly around Jaxson, I knew better now. It wasn't her personality—she just didn't care about me.

We had breakfast in silence. As we were leaving, she looked at her phone and said, "Let's not take the photos at the park. Let's go to the uni instead. I saw it's been trending online lately."

I knew exactly right then why she wanted to change locations: Jaxson had posted some nostalgic school stuff that morning.

I could've called her out on it, but I just didn't want to make things worse.

I was leaving in a day and a half.

The least I could do was keep some dignity.

Before we headed out, I just knew how the day would go, so I didn't even bring the wedding dress.

Of course, she didn't even ask about it or notice it was missing.

The photographer took us to the uni's sports field.

Chloe scanned the place for a minute, and then her eyes lit up as soon as they landed on a familiar figure standing in the shade of a tree.

It was Jaxson.

Without even looking at me, she turned and bolted toward him.

Like he was the groom.

I glanced at the photographer, and he looked confused.

I gave him an apologetic smile, saying, "Sorry for the trouble. Let's call it a day. Don't worry. You'll still get paid."

As he left, the image of Chloe running to Jaxson played in my head like a broken record.

I felt like I was losing her for real.

And it stung more than I ever expected.

The photo shoot.

The wedding.

The eight years.

I saw it all ending right there the second Chloe was back in her high school sweetheart's arms.

I didn't usually wear leather shoes because my ankle's messed up from an old injury, so walking in them felt like a punishment.

It took me forever to limp my way over to Chloe. She was glowing, laughing at something Jaxson said; her whole face lit up with that soft smile she never had for me.

The jacket I gave her to keep warm? She just tossed it on the ground like she didn't need anything from me anymore.

As soon as she saw me approaching, her smile dropped fast. Her brows knitted together like she was accusing me that I'd open my mouth, tell Jaxson about our relationship, and ruin her perfect little act.

"What?" she quickly said before I could open my mouth. "I'm just catching up with an old classmate."

For a second, I just stood there, frozen. Then I forced a smile, playing along.

"'Forgot I had something urgent to do at work. I gotta head back. I didn't bring my phone for the photoshoot, so I just wanted to let you know."

She blinked, looking surprised. Maybe she thought I'd make a scene out of jealousy like I used to, but I wasn't interested in that anymore. There was no point. And I didn't want to humiliate myself any more than I already had.

Her expression softened as she nodded without a word, almost relieved.

I turned around and hobbled away, my ankle killing me with every step.

Behind me, I overheard her laugh again, brushing everything off.

"Don't worry about it, seriously. It's just some stupid bridal shop thing. They needed models, and we were available…"

I wasn't lying—I really did go back to work. I spent the rest of the day tying up loose ends, though I wasn't exactly focused.

The sky had already darkened when I got home.

For the time time, dinner was set on the table.

As far as I could remember, she had never cooked for me.

As soon as I walked in, she quickly put down her phone, her expression a little off. "You're back. Why so late this time? I made dinner. Oh, by the way, you looked like you've lost some weight in that suit this morning…"

I paused halfway across the room. Lost weight?

I hadn't noticed, but then again, I hadn't really been eating since those photos showed up on her laptop.

Still, as I glanced at the dishes at the table—heavy, greasy, drowning in cheese and carbs—I felt my stomach twist. Lasagna, mac and cheese, pizza… She didn't care. She'd never bothered to learn what I liked.

"You go ahead," I said, my voice flat. "I'm not hungry. I'm heading to bed."

As I walked away, my ankle throbbed again, the blister from those damn leather shoes stinging like fire.

She must've noticed because the next thing I knew, she was standing in the bedroom doorway with a first-aid kit

For a split second, I almost laughed. After all these years, she suddenly tried to take care of me.

It was too little, too late. The wound had already scabbed over.

And I didn't need her anymore.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," I said, brushing her off.

She stood there for a moment and stared at me, her face darkening a little. She left without another word, only to return with a slice of pizza and place it on the nightstand.

"I didn't know Jaxson would be there," she began, her voice small. "He's an old friend. We hadn't seen each other in years, so I couldn't just ignore him. Please, don't take it the wrong way. I—"

I glanced at the food on the nightstand and cut her off mid-sentence. "I don't eat stuff like that, Chloe, remember?"

She always knew I needed a protein-rich meal to feel full. I'd never been one to settle for a quick bite, especially not something like a slice of pizza.

But she obviously didn't care. She never had.

After all these years, she finally tried, and I didn't feel a thing. I was done craving for her affection.

Her face hardened, and with the typical cold expression on her face, she walked out of the room.

That time, she didn't come back.

By midnight, my stomach started growling. I tiptoed to the kitchen for some water and saw the faint glow of Chloe's phone screen from the living room.

She was chatting with someone, her fingers flying across the screen, her face lit up in a smile.

I remembered how she used to tell me she never stayed up late—it was bad for her skin, she said, which was why she never stayed up with me on New Year's Eve.

The coldness in my chest spread, and I turned away without even bothering to get that drink.

Just turned around and went back to bed.

The next day, we were supposed to get a marriage license.

But when I stepped out of the room, the house was empty. She was already gone. No text message, no note.

Out of habit, I checked Jaxson's socials, and sure enough, I saw he'd posted he's posted an update. It was a pic of him lying in a hospital bed with an IV drip, looking as pitiful as ever.

It came with a caption.

[How can someone live away from home for so long and still not know how to take care of themselves? Barely back home and already landed myself in the hospital.]

I couldn't help but wonder how a grown man could be so careless about something as serious as his own health.

But I didn't care enough to think anymore about him.

I spent the rest of the day packing my stuff. By the time the night fell, Chloe still wasn't home.

She only sent a half-hearted message:[Working late.]

I stared at those two words on the screen for a long time. I let out a bitter laugh. She didn't even bother to come up with a good lie.

I'd spoken to her supervisor earlier that week, and he mentioned they'd cleared her schedule to give her time for the wedding.

So I figured she was probably 'working' at the hospital.

Midnight came, and the countdown on my phone hit zero.

The wedding was supposed to be the next morning, but for me, it marked my flight out of her life.

I spent the night on the couch and left for the airport first thing.

On the way there, I couldn't help but feel relieved.

At least the wedding thing had been fake.

At least I hadn't told my family.

Otherwise, I'd have no idea how to explain ditching my bride to my parents.

When I reached the airport, I called Chloe to break up with her officially. But the phone barely rang before she hung up on me.

A second later, I got a series of voice messages from her. Her tone was beyond impatient.

"I'm almost there! What are you so worked up about? We're getting married. Do you think I'm just gonna ditch you? Jeez!"

"Jaxson got discharged early just to attend the wedding, but he got into a car accident on the way! God, Desmond, can't you be a li'l more understanding?"

"Just keep my friends entertained. I'll explain everything to them when I get there."

When the voice messages ended, I stared blankly at the screen of my phone.

After a moment, I typed back a short message.

[We're done. The wedding's all yours.]