1 I canceled our coastal wedding reservation. The manager stared, stunned. “You’re forfeiting a fifteen-thousand-dollar deposit. Shouldn’t we wait for the bride?” I slid the paperwork across the desk, offering a faint, empty smile. “I’m not waiting. She’s busy watching bioluminescent waves with the love of her life.” Amanda and I were together six years. Every summer, she took a “corporate retreat” to the coast, posting one aesthetic shot of the midnight ocean. When I suggested a beach honeymoon, she scoffed. “It’s just water. What’s so great about it?” I believed her until two days ago. Organizing her hard drive, I opened a folder named Tides. Six years. Over three hundred photos. The same man. The same beach. The same midnight sky. Him walking barefoot through surf, glancing back with a brilliant smile. Meanwhile, our only trip was to a neighboring city for wedding dresses. She sat scrolling her phone, blind to the gowns. “They all look the same. Pick one so we can get it over with.” And I’d believed her. The manager handed me the refund receipt. “What about the bridal suite decor? Your custom vow wall is installed.” I pictured that massive silk wall, our names intertwined. My mouth felt heavy. I’d stayed up until 3 a.m., revising the layout seven times. She never glanced at the sketches. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced back my tears. “Cancel it all.” My resignation was final. Today was my last day in this city. The tide wouldn’t wait for me, so I was done waiting for it. … “Nolan, did you seriously just nuke your entire beach wedding?” Carter’s voice crackled through the phone the second I stepped out of the resort lobby. The promotional poster for the venue was still standing by the glass doors. It read: Welcome to the Wedding Celebration of Amanda and Nolan. I glanced at it, my footsteps never slowing down. “It is done.” “You poured your heart and soul into planning that. Are you really just walking away?” “Yes.” “Does Amanda even know?” “She is out of town.” Carter went dead silent on the other end of the line for two full seconds. “Is she with Oliver again?” “Yes.” “Man, are you absolutely sure about this? They literally grew up together. They are just childhood friends.” I gripped my car keys so hard the metal bit into my palm. “Do friends secretly take over three hundred pictures of each other at the exact same beach for six years straight?” Carter did not have a response to that. I hung up the phone and opened my messages. I tapped on Amanda’s profile. Three minutes ago, she had sent me a picture. It was the ocean at night. The edge of the crashing waves glowed with a surreal, faint blue light. The caption she typed read: “The bioluminescent waves are much brighter this year.” I stared at those words and felt a hysterical urge to laugh. She had posted a nearly identical picture at this exact same time last year. Back then, I had commented: “That is stunning. When are you going to take me to see it?” She had replied: “It is way too crowded. You would hate it.” But the photos hidden inside that hard drive were not crowded at all. It was just Oliver. Standing by the water, wearing a loose white button-down, running freely along the empty shoreline. Amanda had taken dozens of shots of him just from that one night. Every single picture radiated an absolute, undeniable adoration. One of the digital files even had a hidden note attached to the metadata. Oliver says the waves look like stars falling into the sea. Amanda and I had been together for six years. The most romantic thing she had ever said to me was on the day we booked our marriage license appointment. “Teaming up to get through life together. Sounds pretty good.” When I pulled up to our apartment building, I did not go upstairs right away. I sat alone in the driver’s seat, scrolling endlessly through my phone’s photo gallery. Out of thousands of pictures, I only had twenty-six photos of me and Amanda together. Fifteen of them were from the very first year we started dating. Over the following four years, there were only eleven. Three of those were forced group photos from my company’s annual banquet. She was standing next to me, looking rigid and annoyed, like she had been dragged there against her will. Oliver, on the other hand, had over three hundred. Oliver sitting on the jagged coastal rocks. Oliver lounging in her passenger seat, holding half a cracked coconut. Oliver closing his eyes, letting the sea breeze mess up his hair. Every single one of his summers had been meticulously documented and archived by my fiancée. While every single one of my summers had been spent entirely in waiting. My phone buzzed violently. It was a FaceTime call from Amanda. I answered it. On the screen, she was wearing a floral sundress, the thin straps sitting lightly on her shoulders. Her hair was beautifully tangled by the ocean wind. Behind her was the vibrant chaos of a beachfront night market. “Did you eat dinner yet?” “Yeah.” “I am flying back the day after tomorrow. Keep an eye on the wedding planners for me.” “Okay.” She suddenly glanced off-camera and let out a soft, genuine laugh. I rarely ever saw her smile like that. It was so bright. So incredibly relaxed. “Amanda, the grilled shrimp is ready.” A man’s voice drifted in from outside the frame. Amanda turned her head and called back naturally. “Coming.” When she looked back at the screen, her tone shifted, becoming casual and dismissive. “Oliver is calling me. I have to go.” I asked her directly. “Why is he there with you?” “He has been really depressed lately. I am just keeping him company so he can clear his head.” “Is he depressed every single summer?” Amanda’s brow furrowed in instant irritation. “Nolan, stop being so passive-aggressive. His dad passed away when he was young. The summer is a really tough time for him.” I did not say a word. My dad also passed away in the summer. Amanda knew that. Three years ago, on the anniversary of his death, I practically begged her to drive back to my hometown with me to visit his grave. She told me she was drowning in a work project and could not get away. A few days later, I saw a picture on Oliver’s social media. Amanda was holding an umbrella over his head to shield him from the sun. The caption read: Thank God I have someone to watch the ocean with. Amanda’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Oh, by the way, I bought you a seashell wind chime. Oliver picked it out. He said it would look great hanging on the balcony of our new place.” I stared at her through the glowing screen, and my throat tightened so painfully I could not make a single sound. Even the decorations for my own marital home had to be selected by Oliver. Right before she ended the call, she sighed. “Stop overthinking everything. Just wait for me to get home.” I stared at the black screen for a long time before typing out a single word. “Okay.” Then I got out of the car, walked upstairs, and started packing my life into cardboard boxes. Amanda came home a day early. She dragged her suitcase through the front door, kicking off her heels as she complained. “I am so exhausted. I had to catch the earliest flight out.” I was sitting in the living room in total silence. I did not move to help her. She pulled a crumpled paper bag out of her tote and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Here. The wind chime I told you about.” Then, she unzipped the hidden compartment of her suitcase and carefully, almost delicately, pulled out a black velvet box. It screamed expensive. The kind of luxury you did not just buy on a whim. “Do not touch this,” she warned. “It is for Oliver.” I stared at it. “What is it?” “A designer diamond lapel pin. He has a big networking gala next week, it will be perfect for his suit.” She said it with such casual confidence, as if outfitting another man in diamonds right before our wedding was the most normal thing in the world. I reached forward and opened the crumpled paper bag she threw at me. Inside was a cheap, palm-sized wind chime made of synthetic string and shells. The clearance sticker for $19.99 was still plastered on the side. One of the main seashells was visibly chipped. I looked up at her. “This is what you bought me?” Amanda frowned, clearly annoyed by my lack of gratitude. “You are the one who likes all those useless little trinkets, aren’t you?” When had I ever liked cheap trinkets? Last year, we were at a department store and I found a pair of silver cufflinks I really liked. They were three hundred dollars. She had immediately shot the idea down, saying, “Weddings are expensive, Nolan. Stop wasting money on useless things.” I put them back. Oliver’s diamond lapel pin was from a top-tier Italian fashion house. The retail price online was over five grand. “Did he ask you to buy that for him?” I asked quietly. “No. I just saw it in the boutique window and thought it looked like him.” I nodded slowly. “Right. You just saw it.” She was already shrugging off her jacket and completely missed the heavy sarcasm in my voice. Later that evening, her mother called. “Nolan, did you finish the seating chart for the reception yet?” “Not yet.” “Good grief, why are you dragging your feet on everything? Oliver came over last week to help me review the catering menu. He said a traditional sit-down dinner is too boring, so we switched it to a modern seafood buffet. He says the younger crowd will love it.” The hand holding my phone froze in mid-air. “Oliver changed my wedding menu?” “Yes, he has a great eye for these things. You are always so busy with work, so I figured I would just handle it with him and save you the trouble.” “It is my wedding, Mrs. Amanda. Mine and your daughter’s.” The line went dead silent. When she spoke again, her tone was icy. “I am well aware of that. Oliver was just trying to be helpful. There is no need to be so incredibly sensitive.” Amanda walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. “Who is on the phone?” “Your mother.” I tapped the speaker button so she could hear. Her mother continued complaining. “Also, that text you wrote for the vow wall was completely outdated. Oliver said it was too boring. He rewrote it for you. I will text you the new version right now.” My phone vibrated against the table. An image popped up on the screen. My original vow had read: We found our forever in the quiet of our ordinary days. Oliver had crossed it out and changed it to: Through the rising and falling tides, I am lucky to be anchored by you. Amanda leaned over and glanced at the screen. “Oliver’s version is actually really good. It has more of a poetic vibe.” I turned my head and looked her dead in the eye. “Did you even read the version I wrote?” “Of course I did.” “And what did you think of it?” She hesitated for a second, waving her hand dismissively. “It was just whatever.” Just whatever. I stayed up for two entire nights agonizing over those words, trying to perfectly capture our six years together. And to her, it was just whatever. Oliver scribbled down some cliché ocean metaphor, and she called it poetic. Her mother’s voice echoed through the speaker again. “Nolan, I am not trying to pick on you, but a man needs to step up when he gets married. You need to have some taste. You are always so rigid and boring. You really should take some notes from Oliver.” I reached out and ended the call. Amanda’s face instantly darkened. “Why the hell did you just hang up on my mother?” “Because I am done listening to her tell me to be more like Oliver.” “She is just blunt. She does not mean any harm.” “And what about you?” I asked quietly. “What about me?” “Amanda, it is our wedding. Why is Oliver’s shadow over absolutely every single part of it?” She groaned, aggressively running a hand through her damp hair. “He is just helping out! You work overtime every single day. What is the big deal if my mom asks him for a second opinion?” “Did you ever bother to ask if I was okay with it?” “Do I seriously need your permission for every little thing?” Little things. The catering menu was a little thing. The vow wall was a little thing. The bridal suite was a little thing. Every single thing that was supposed to belong to me could be casually hijacked by Oliver. As long as Amanda found it convenient. She huffed, walking over to the coffee table and picking up the cheap wind chime. “I am going to hang this on the balcony. Oliver said it makes a really nice sound when the ocean breeze hits it.” I stared at the jagged, broken shell dangling from the string. “There is no ocean breeze here.” She froze. I reached out, took the wind chime from her hand, and dropped it back into the paper bag. “So there is no need to hang it.” On Friday night, Blake organized a dinner with our old friend group. He booked a private room at an upscale seafood grill downtown. I did not want to go. But Amanda stood by the front door, impatiently tapping her foot. “They are our oldest friends, Nolan. Do not be a buzzkill.” I quietly put my coat on and followed her. When we walked into the private room, Oliver was already sitting at the table. He was wearing a tailored navy suit. Pinned perfectly to his lapel was the designer diamond brooch. The moment he saw Amanda, his eyes lit up and he waved. “Amanda, over here.” She gravitated toward him instantly, taking the seat right by his side like it was muscle memory. I stood there for two painfully long seconds before pulling out the chair on her other side. Blake raised his glass and cheered. “Look who it is! The groom has arrived. The big day is right around the corner, right?” Amanda smiled and nodded. “Almost here.” Oliver wiped his mouth with a napkin. A sly, unreadable smile played on his lips. “Well, you never know. Things can always change before the very last day.” The entire table went dead silent. Blake awkwardly cleared his throat to break the tension. “Oliver is just running his mouth. Don’t take it personally, man.” I did not take it personally. I was too busy staring at the diamonds glittering aggressively on his chest under the chandelier lights. A girl sitting across the table leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Oliver, that lapel pin is gorgeous. Who gave it to you?” Oliver let his gaze drift slowly toward Amanda. “An old friend.” Amanda did not even attempt to hide it. “I bought it for him. The diamonds really suit him.” The girl instinctively snapped her head toward me, her face pale. “Oh… well, I am sure Amanda bought you something just as amazing, right Nolan?” Amanda waved her hand dismissively before I could open my mouth. “He does not need things like that.” I let out a low, dry chuckle. “When exactly did I say I did not need things like that?” Amanda froze, staring at me in shock. Oliver immediately jumped in, his voice dripping with fake diplomacy. “Nolan, do not misunderstand. Amanda is just a straight shooter. I am sure whatever she prepared for you is incredibly special.” “Like what?” I asked. He hesitated, clearly caught off guard. I answered for him. “Like a twenty-dollar broken seashell wind chime from a souvenir shop?” No one at the table dared to breathe. The color completely drained from Amanda’s face. “Nolan, do you seriously have to air our dirty laundry in front of everyone?” “Weren’t you the one who just announced to everyone that I did not need nice things?” Oliver let out a soft, condescending sigh. “Nolan, if you keep acting like this, you are going to exhaust her.” Those words were spoken quietly, but they hit me like a physical slap across the face. I would exhaust her. So I was not allowed to ask questions. I was not allowed to make a scene. I was not allowed to feel hurt. I stood up and walked to the restroom to wash my hands. Oliver followed me in. He stood next to me at the marble sinks, casually adjusting his hair in the mirror. “Nolan, there is really no need to treat me like the enemy.” I turned the water off. “I do not have the time or the energy to treat you like anything.” He chuckled softly. “Glad to hear it. Amanda and I have known each other for twenty years. I know how she ticks better than anyone. She is terrible at expressing herself, but she has a soft heart.” “And your point is?” “My point is, stop suffocating her with this wedding. She told me the other day that you are making everything too complicated. It is making her feel trapped.” My chest caved in. “She talks to you about this?” “We talk about everything.” He grabbed a paper towel, dried his hands, and turned to look at me with a look of pure pity. “Look, man, I will be brutally honest with you. The only reason she agreed to marry you is because you are stable. You are responsible. You do not cause problems.” He paused, a sickeningly triumphant smile spreading across his face. “But when she is with me, she actually gets to be herself.” I stared at his smug face and suddenly started laughing. “Oliver, when you say things like that out loud, do you not feel disgusted with yourself?” His smile vanished instantly. “I am just giving you a warning. Do not grip her too tightly. The harder you push a woman, the faster she runs.” “And what about you?” I asked. “I do not have to push.” He reached up and lightly tapped the diamond pin on his chest. “She comes to me all on her own.” When I walked out of the restroom, Amanda was waiting in the hallway. “What took you so long?” “Just catching up with Oliver.” Her eyes instantly darted toward the restroom door, panic flashing in her expression. “He did not say anything stupid, did he?” “What are you terrified he might say?” Amanda scowled. “Nolan, you are being incredibly hostile tonight.” When it was time to leave, Oliver announced he had drank too much to drive. Amanda instantly grabbed her car keys. “I will drop you off.” I looked at her. “He lives on the north side of the city. Our apartment is on the east side. In what world is that on the way?” “It is late. It is not safe for him to take a cab alone.” “What about me?” “You are riding with me, obviously.” And so, Oliver slid effortlessly into the front passenger seat. I was banished to the back. Oliver confidently reached over, connected his phone to her car’s Bluetooth, and put on an indie beach folk song. “Amanda, remember this? We listened to this on repeat on the balcony of that beach house last year.” Amanda laughed, her voice light and musical. “I remember you trying to sing along and completely missing the notes.” For the entire forty-minute drive, they completely ignored me. They talked about the ocean, the beach house, the grilled fish from the night market. I sat in the dark in the backseat, feeling like a stranger who had accidentally hailed the wrong Uber. The car finally pulled up to Oliver’s apartment building. Before he got out, he leaned back and looked at me. “See you at the wedding, Nolan.” Then he turned to Amanda, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate register. “Do not forget, Amanda. We are taking the boat out for deep-sea fishing next Saturday.” Amanda smiled warmly. “I remember.” The car door slammed shut. “Do you know what day next Saturday is?” I asked the back of her head. Amanda paused, her hands resting on the steering wheel. “Saturday?” “It is the anniversary of my father’s death.” The air inside the car instantly turned to ice. Three years ago, on that exact same day, she had abandoned me. This year, she had forgotten all over again. Amanda tightened her grip on the wheel. Her voice lost its usual confidence. “I can… I can go to the cemetery with you in the afternoon.” “And the morning?” “Oliver already paid the deposit for the charter boat. It is a nightmare to reschedule. I cannot just leave him hanging.” I turned my head and stared out the dark window. “Amanda, do you know what my dad said right before he died? He asked when you were coming over for dinner.” She did not say a word. “You never came. Not even once.” A long time passed before she finally whispered, “There will be other chances in the future.” I let out a broken laugh. The man is dead and buried. What future? It rained heavily on the anniversary of my father’s death. Amanda left the apartment at the crack of dawn. I bought a bottle of his favorite whiskey and took the earliest bus out of the city, riding alone for two hours back to my hometown. The cemetery was built into the side of a foggy hill. I stood in front of the cold granite headstone, holding a black umbrella. In the small porcelain photograph, my dad looked exactly the same. Smiling, with those deep, familiar crinkles around his eyes. I unscrewed the cap and poured the whiskey over the wet grass. “Dad. I do not think I am getting married anymore.” The wind whipped the freezing rain against my face. It was biting cold. I stood there in the storm for a long time. Finally, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. “Where are you?” Amanda asked. “The cemetery.” “Why didn’t you wait for me at the apartment?” “Wait for you to finish fishing with Oliver?” She paused, frustration seeping into her voice. “Nolan, please do not start this right now. The boat was already booked. If I did not show up, he would not have been able to handle the trip by himself.” “But I can handle the anniversary of my father’s death all by myself?” Dead silence on the other end. A few seconds later, she sighed. “I will drive out there right now.” “Do not bother.” “Nolan, stop throwing a tantrum, okay?” I stared blankly at the smiling photo on the gravestone. “Amanda, when my dad was dying in that hospital bed, you were in another state, watching the ocean with Oliver. Today is his three-year anniversary, and you are on a boat with him.” She panicked, her voice rising defensively. “He was having a complete mental breakdown that day! I was terrified he was going to hurt himself!” “And what about me?” “You have always been strong.” I had listened to that exact excuse for six years. You are so strong. You are so independent. You do not need me to hold your hand. Therefore, every single time I was abandoned, I was expected to just swallow the pain and deal with it alone. I hung up the phone. When I took the bus back to the city, I did not go home. I walked straight into the wedding planning agency and canceled every remaining vendor, every floral arrangement, every single detail. The lead planner looked at me, her eyes filled with pity and confusion. “Nolan… have you discussed this with Amanda?” “I will inform her myself.” “But the visual designs are completely finished.” She turned her laptop around to show me. On the screen was a beautiful digital mockup. My name and Amanda’s name, suspended over a gorgeous watercolor backdrop of the ocean. And right beneath it, the quote Oliver had rewritten. Through the rising and falling tides, I am lucky to be anchored by you. I stared at those words. It felt like a sick, twisted joke. Anchored by who? Oliver? I pulled out my phone and sent Amanda a single text message. “The wedding is canceled.” She called me back within seconds. I let it ring. She called five more times in a row. I powered my phone off. By the time I finally walked into our apartment, the sun had already set. I pulled my suitcases from the closet and started packing. I did not have many clothes, mostly just stacks of books. When I first moved in, Amanda had frowned at them. “Your books take up way too much space. Once we are married, stop buying so much useless junk.” Back then, I had just smiled and said, “Okay.” Yet Oliver’s surfboard, his heavy-duty camping chairs, and his endless boxes of photography equipment were allowed to consume our entire storage room. I opened the storage closet door. Inside were his hiking boots. His expensive tactical backpack. His backup toiletry bag. There was even a leather luggage tag with his name engraved in gold foil hanging on the hook. I had lived in this apartment for four years, but it felt like I was just the caretaker of Oliver’s personal storage unit. I packed everything I owned into two suitcases. Then, I slowly slid the engagement ring off my left hand. It was a cheap, basic band Amanda had bought using her credit card reward points during a mall promotion. She had tossed the box at me and said: “We are going to buy real wedding bands anyway, so this is just to make it official for now.” Back then, I was terrified she felt bad about it, so I promised I would buy her a massive diamond later to make up for it. Looking back on it now. When it came to me, everything she did was just the bare minimum. Just checking a box. I placed the ring directly in the center of the coffee table. Right next to it, I placed the broken shell wind chime. And a handwritten note. Amanda, I canceled the wedding. I am returning the ring. I am returning the wind chime. Since you already have someone to watch the ocean with, I won’t be joining you anymore. I set the pen down, grabbed the handles of my suitcases, and walked out the door. The exact second the door clicked shut behind me, I powered my phone back on. A tidal wave of notifications flooded my screen. Missed calls and texts from Amanda, Carter, the wedding planners, her mother. The very last text was from Amanda. “Nolan, where the hell are you? You are scaring me.” I glanced at it, locked my screen, and ignored it. The Uber I ordered pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled down the window. “Where to, man?” I threw my bags in the trunk and got in. “The airport.”
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