The Day Before The Wedding, He Broke Up With Me

My boyfriend of eight years ended things with me the day before our wedding.

“Nara, this is it.”

Nathan Hays’s eyes were icy as he said those words, signaling the end of our eight-year love story.

His usually bright and steadfast gaze was now dim and distant.

“I’m leaving with Nova.”

Nova Jolly was the obstacle between us. The only time we ever came close to breaking up in those eight years was because of her.

From the moment Nova entered our lives, I knew she’d cause trouble between Nathan and me.

And now, she’s about to take him away for good.

…

I first met Nathan one afternoon during my junior year.

Nathan was a firefighter who had saved many lives, including mine.

Like most college students, I was mainly focused on two things, eating and sleeping.

One day, I went next door to snag some slices of hotpot beef and lamb from my neighbors.

Full and satisfied, I took a nap.

In my dream, I felt like I was suffocating.

I reached out blindly and grabbed a warm, calloused hand.

“Hey, wake up!”

I managed to open my eyes and saw a handsome guy looking down at me.

I probably thought at that moment that he was meant for me. I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Nathan Hays.”

I wanted to ask for his contact info, but then everything just slipped away from my mind.

It felt like I’d been asleep for days.

When I woke up, my parents were standing beside my bed.

My mom was frantic, calling my name and asking if I felt any pain.

I was confused and even wondered if it was some sort of prank. Then I saw my dad pressing the nurse call button and wiping away a tear.

I later found out I hadn't just been napping. I had nearly died.

The dorm’s old wiring had shorted out because my neighbors were using a high-power hotpot, and it had burned down most of the building.

Luckily, the firefighters arrived just in time, so there were no injuries.

I had been through a life-or-death moment and miraculously survived.

I was thankful for the fire, despite losing most of my belongings, because it had brought Nathan into my life.

After the fire, the school rebuilt the dorms, and we were temporarily moved to another vacant building.

My mom called and insisted I bring some fruit to the fire station to thank the firefighters who saved me.

I was hesitant, grateful but nervous about going alone.

My mom gave me a stern talk, saying that with only two semesters left before graduation, I was practically an adult and needed to step up.

So, I finally gave in, bought some fruit and milk tea, and headed to the city fire station to show my appreciation.

I was on edge the entire way there.

As soon as I got off the bus and spotted the firefighters standing at the entrance, my legs felt like they might buckle.

I wasn’t sure what drove me to go inside, but one of the firefighters said that if I hadn’t seemed so innocent and brought gifts, he might have thought I was suspicious.

I was really grateful for that.

Soon, a tall, dark-skinned man approached with a friendly smile and took the gifts from my hands. I flexed my reddened fingers, hesitating as I asked, “Is there a firefighter named Nathan here?”

“Yes, I’ll get him for you.”

Nathan didn’t recognize me at first, probably because my face was still smeared with soot from the fire.

This encounter felt even more awkward than the last one.

I was so nervous that I spilled milk tea on my skirt, turning the cute dress I had carefully chosen into a mess.

Nathan looked momentarily stunned, probably not used to such an awkward situation.

He quickly composed himself and, with a gentle smile, said, “Let me help you get cleaned up.”

I followed him to the restroom, trying to ignore how his broad shoulders seemed to block out the world.

He handed me a dry towel and then stepped out.

I stared at the towel for a while before finally cleaning the stains from my skirt. It was still damp, but it was the best I could manage.

When I came out, Nathan was waiting by the door with a jacket. My anxiety surged again.

Seeing me, Nathan awkwardly cleared his throat and handed me the jacket. “Here, put this on.”

“Hmm?” I didn’t get it at first.

Nathan sighed softly, took a few steps toward me, and crouched down.

I was stunned, barely able to breathe.

Looking down, I saw his striking features up close. His tanned skin, a result of years of training, didn’t take away from his good looks.

His muscular forearm, with prominent veins, showed off his masculine charm.

He tied the jacket around my waist, and as he was doing it, he said, “Your waist is really small.”

It sounded a bit flirtatious, but he was so straightforward and genuine that I figured I was just overthinking it.

Compared to his broad build, I did seem pretty petite.

Maybe he was just making an observation.

I mumbled a quiet “thank you.”

He shrugged it off and then asked, “Why’s your face so red?”

I wasn’t sure if he was playing dumb or just genuinely clueless, but thankfully, he didn’t push the question. Instead, he asked if I wanted to take a tour of the station.

“Is that allowed?” I asked, unsure.

He chuckled, clearly amused, and said, “There are some parts you can see, just stick with me.”

I grinned, “Sure, let’s go meet your firefighter friends!”

As soon as I said that, a few of his colleagues walked by, comparing abs.

I definitely enjoyed the view.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t exactly reach out and touch, and they seemed to notice my stare, so they quickly toned it down.

“Nathan, is this your girlfriend? She looks pretty young.”

“Watch your mouth, or you’ll be running laps,” Nathan shot his friend a warning look.

The guy immediately backed off, “No way, I just showered!”

“She’s a University of Pittsburgh student, here to thank us. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Nathan scolded his friend, then turned to me. “Don’t mind them. We’re used to being rough around the edges.”

I nodded, saying it was fine.

Nathan then showed me around the station, but I was distracted, replaying his friend’s comment over and over in my head.

As we were about to say goodbye, I blurted out before I could stop myself, “So… do you have a girlfriend?”