The house we had spent six months renovating rejected me at every turn. At 5’3″, I stood in front of the master bathroom vanity. The water from the faucet splashed directly onto my collarbone. The hanging rod in the walk-in closet was so high that I could barely touch the edge of it, even when I jumped with all my might. Yet, when 5’9″ Chloe Higgins pushed the door open and walked in, she looked like she had just returned to her own home. She casually hung her purse on the top hook in the hallway and leaned comfortably against the kitchen island. “This counter height is perfect. No bending over to prep veggies or wash fruit.” Ethan Carter’s eyes flashed with pride, and he smiled in agreement. “Of course. I had the contractor use your exact measurements during the design phase.” Seeing my face turn pale instantly, Ethan offered a half-hearted explanation. “The designer was rushing me, and you were working overtime at the office. So, I just used Chloe’s measurements.” “If you think it’s too high, you can always use a step stool.” It turned out that the sanctuary I had emptied my savings to build was actually a love nest custom-made for someone else. I let out a bitter laugh. If that was the case, I was going to tear this house apart. And I didn’t want this fiancé anymore, either.
The faucet was still running. I stretched on my tiptoes to reach the handle. My sleeve brushed against the wet counter, and cold water poured down my wrist. It washed away the very last shred of hope in my heart. Ethan stood at the doorway, his voice dripping with impatience. “It’s only a difference of a few inches. Do you have to throw a tantrum over this?” “Six inches.” I shut off the water. When my heels finally touched the floor, my calves were shaking from the strain. “On the blueprint, the vanity was supposed to be 31 inches. Now it’s 37 inches. The closet, the kitchen cabinets—everything has been raised.” Ethan looked up. “You actually measured all of that?” “This is where I am supposed to live.” I had spent ten sleepless nights tweaking that initial design draft inch by inch. For the sake of that 31-inch counter, I had visited seven different renovation companies. But during the late stages of construction, I had to work endless overtime to make up for the renovation costs, so I left the on-site supervision to Ethan. He only sent partial photos in our WhatsApp group chat. It wasn’t until today that I realized all the measurements I had circled in red ink had been changed. “Can’t I just grab things for you in the future?” He said it so naturally that, for a split second, I was reminded of three years ago. Back then, the counters in our old apartment were too high. Ethan had stayed up all night with his tools, lowering every single cabinet shelf and even sawing down the legs of my desk. He had promised me that in our future home, everything would be tailored to my size. He would never make me stand on my tiptoes again. But now, he presented me with a house where I needed a step stool just to wash my hands or hang a coat. And he told me he could “occasionally” help. “Ethan, I don’t want to have to ask for help every time I need to reach something in my own home.” “It’s just a couple of step stools. How much could that possibly cost?” He dodged the point entirely. Outside, the sky had turned completely dark. The motion-sensor lights in the living room didn’t turn on automatically. I walked to the center of the room and spoke to the smart speaker. “Turn on the living room lights.” “Voice unrecognized. Please try again.” I repeated it. Still failed. Chloe gave a soft cough. “Turn on the living room lights.” Instantly, the recessed lights throughout the house lit up tier by tier, and even the smart curtains slid open automatically on both sides. The twilight from outside spilled in. Chloe stood right in the center of the light, looking like the true owner of this home. “Welcome home, Chloe.” When the robotic female voice echoed through the room, silence fell over us. I looked at Ethan. He avoided my eyes. Chloe blinked her watery eyes, looking at me with total innocence. “Aria, please don’t overthink this. Ethan asked me to help him test the smart system two days ago, and he must have forgotten to delete my profile…” “Ethan, go ahead and delete my access right now, so she doesn’t get upset again.” Ethan reached out to grab my hand. “Everyone is here today. Let’s not ruin the mood over such a small thing. I’ll record your voice and fingerprints tonight.” I pulled my hand away from his touch. “Redo the furniture. Clear her access from the system, and then record mine.” His brows furrowed immediately. “Can you stop making a scene? The custom woodwork is already finished. Ripping it out and redoing it will cost at least twenty thousand dollars!” “But I paid for more than half of the renovation costs!” “You put in the money, but Chloe and I put in the time. We can’t just tear down the whole house just because you find it slightly inconvenient.” The man in front of me suddenly felt so foreign that I felt a chill run down my spine in the middle of summer. Footsteps echoed from the hallway. A few friends who came to tour the new house walked in. “Wow, this place looks so spacious! Those aesthetic photos Chloe posted on Instagram made this place look so high-end.” “Look at these raised cabinets. Only tall people can pull off this kind of design.” When they noticed my wet shirt, someone snickered. “Oh, if you can’t reach the faucet, don’t force it. I’ll buy you a toddler step stool tomorrow!” Ethan pulled me aside and lowered his voice. “They didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t make things hard for Chloe. She ran so many errands to help us with this place.” Every single word out of his mouth was about defending his female best friend. He had never once considered me. “Ethan! How do I open these motorized blinds? Come teach me!” “Coming!” Ethan turned and walked away without hesitation. I picked up the house keys from the console table, hesitating. The robotic female voice echoed again. “Welcome home, Chloe.” I pushed the door open and walked out, leaving behind the home that had been customized for someone else.
After returning to my rented apartment, I came down with a low fever. Ethan didn’t call me until the next morning. I picked up the phone, my voice incredibly raspy. He didn’t even notice. His tone was demanding. “Everything was fine during the final walkthrough yesterday. Why did you suddenly storm off?” “My clothes got wet, and I got a fever.” There was a brief silence on the other end. Ethan softened his tone slightly. “I’ve already had them add your voice profile. Let’s leave the furniture alone for now. We can modify the inconvenient parts together after we get married and live there for a while.” This was the first time he had made a concession. I looked at the “how to call off a wedding” search page on my phone. My finger hesitated, and I didn’t press enter. Three years of history, and the wedding invitations had already been sent out. I decided to give him one last chance to fix this. That afternoon, I took some fever medicine and drove to the bridal shop. Chloe was there too. She was wearing a long dress, sitting on the sofa and flipping through a catalog. Seeing me enter, she stood up immediately. “Aria, don’t get the wrong idea. Ethan doesn’t know anything about wedding dresses, so he asked me to come along and give some input.” I ignored her and looked straight at Ethan. He walked over and touched my forehead, frowning. “Why are you so hot?” The familiar warmth made my nose sting. Back in college, when I had a high fever, he had stayed by my bedside all night, changing the cold towel on my forehead every thirty minutes. But in the next second, Ethan withdrew his hand. “Why are you running around with a fever? Let’s get the fitting over with quickly so you can go home and rest. Don’t delay the schedule.” It wasn’t that he had never loved me. It was just that his patience was no longer reserved for me. The consultant wheeled out the reserved wedding dress. It had a massive train and was completely covered in hand-stitched crystals. This was not the minimalist gown I had originally chosen. I turned to the consultant. “I want to try on the dress I originally picked.” The consultant looked troubled. “Mr. Carter came in with Ms. Higgins later and changed the order.” “This is the sample dress Ms. Higgins tried on. Mr. Carter requested us to lock in the order using her measurements and paid the full amount.” “If we switch back to your original choice now, we would have to reschedule the delivery date.” Chloe walked over, her fingertips brushing against the hem of the dress. “This dress looks amazing when it’s on. I tried on a similar style at a brand event before.” “Aria, you’re petite. We can just hem it shorter, and it’ll work.” I looked up at Ethan. “You promised that I could choose my own wedding dress.” Ethan avoided my gaze, looking slightly annoyed. “Just try this one first. If it really doesn’t fit, we’ll talk.” Inside the fitting room. The consultant zipped me up and tightened the waist, but there was still a massive gap at the back. As I took a step forward, the excess fabric pooled heavily at my feet. The consultant brought out a dozen safety pins. “The size difference is quite large. If we force alterations, it will ruin the silhouette of the waistline. Mr. Carter gave us measurements for a 5’9″ frame.” Ethan explained from outside the curtain. “Chloe said this style looks the best, so I had the shop reserve it in her size first. You can just get it altered. Don’t be so dramatic.” I stared at myself in the mirror. The shoulders were sagging, and the waist was barely held together by a row of pins. I looked like a child who had snuck into someone else’s closet. I yanked the curtain open. Outside, Chloe was picking up the sample wedding ring from the jewelry box. She smoothly slipped it onto her ring finger. “Aria, I’m just checking to see if the diamond setting is secure for you.” The ring sat perfectly at the base of her finger. The size was flawless. She took it off and handed it to me with a smile. I took it and slid it onto my ring finger. The band slipped right past my knuckle and fell straight to the floor, landing with a soft thud on the heavy train of the dress. I didn’t bend down to pick it up. I stared directly at Ethan. “Even my wedding ring was ordered in her size?” Ethan’s face stiffened for a second. “She helped me pick out the style, and the jeweler just happened to reserve the sample ring in the size she tried on.” “The final ring can still be resized.” I found it laughable. “The dress, the ring, the house—everything can just be ‘resized’ or ‘modified’ for me to use, right?” “Do you have to look at it that way?” He bent down to pick up the ring, his voice turning completely cold. “Reordering a custom dress will take another two months. What about the venue booking? What about our families and friends?” “You can’t just throw all of our plans out the window over a few inches.” I gripped the oversized satin of the dress. “I don’t want this dress.” Ethan tossed the ring back into its box. He didn’t look at me again. “Aria, when did you become so high-maintenance?” I looked at the mirror, staring at the sharp safety pins pinned along my back. They were forcing something that didn’t belong to me onto my body. And they pierced right through my last shred of self-delusion. I turned back into the dressing room. Behind me, Ethan turned to the consultant and told her to start taking down the alteration measurements. He didn’t even bother to ask. If I still wanted to wear it at all.
I was about to change out of the wedding dress when Chloe’s high heel stepped firmly onto my train. I stumbled forward, my elbow slamming hard against the sharp edge of the mirror frame. Before the sharp pain could even register. Ethan reached out almost instantly. But the person he caught was Chloe. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Chloe leaned against his arm, patting her chest. “Aria lost her balance. It scared me to death.” Ethan turned to look at me, his brows knit tight. “Be more careful when you’re changing. Stop making such a scene.” My elbow was already swelling and turning red. The shop assistant brought over an ice pack. Ethan looked at it and seemed about to take it, but Chloe let out a soft gasp. Her hand had a tiny scratch on it from a sequin on the wedding dress. Ethan immediately bent down to inspect her hand. I took the ice pack myself and pressed it against my elbow. In the end, the wedding dress was not reordered. Under the guise of “holding the date,” Ethan had the shop pause the alterations, saying he would give me three days to think about it. He acted as though he was giving me the ultimate freedom of choice. When we walked out of the bridal shop, I opened the passenger door of his car. The seat was pushed all the way back, and the backrest was almost completely reclined. When I sat down, my feet couldn’t even reach the floor mat, and the seatbelt pressed tightly against my neck. I reached for the seat adjustment button. The dashboard screen popped up with a notification. “Overwrite Chloe’s Profile?” I stared at the words. Ethan got into the driver’s seat. Glancing at the screen, he said casually, “Don’t overwrite it. Chloe has long legs. It’s a pain to adjust it back every time.” I said quietly, “Ethan, even the passenger seat of our future car is customized for her now. Do you actually remember who you are getting married to?” He looked at me with cold eyes. “It’s just a seat memory profile. Is it really necessary to get this worked up over something so petty? Is this fun for you?” He probably realized his tone was too harsh, so he reached over to loosen my seatbelt. “I’ll save your profile under Slot 2. You can just switch to it when you get in.” I watched him lean close. This was the posture I was most familiar with when he first bought this car. Back then, he would adjust the mirrors for me, push the seat forward inch by inch, laugh at my short legs, and tell me that the passenger seat would always be reserved for me alone. Chloe stood outside the car door, rubbing her knee. “Maybe I should just sit in the back. It’s a bit cramped, but I can manage.” Ethan sat up straight. “Get in the front. You have long legs, the back seat will be uncomfortable for you.” Then he looked at me. “Aria, go sit in the back. It’s only a short drive anyway.” I didn’t move. “Who exactly is your fiancée?” Ethan’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What does a car seat have to do with your status? She’s not feeling well today. Can’t you just let her have it for once?” Chloe lowered her head and reached for the door handle, her voice muffled. “Forget it, I’ll just call an Uber. I don’t want to cause trouble between you two.” Though she said she was leaving, her hand never let go of the door handle. Ethan got out of the car immediately and opened the passenger door for her. “Stop it. Just get in.” This was his choice. I unbuckled my seatbelt, got out of the car, and climbed into the back seat. Chloe got into the passenger seat, exactly as she wanted. The seat slid back automatically, reclining to the perfect angle for her. Her phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth, and her favorite playlist started playing through the speakers. I leaned back against the rear seat. The ice in the pack was starting to melt, and cold water dripped slowly down my wrist.
My phone buzzed. Chloe had just posted a new Snapchat Story. In the photo, she was sitting in the passenger seat with her long legs stretched out. The caption read: “When you are cherished, even the car seat remembers your shape.” Ethan glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Let’s get dinner tonight. My treat, to make it up to you.” “Where?” He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and quickly named a place. It was the trendy sushi restaurant that Chloe loved. I put my phone back into my bag. “You two go ahead.” When the car stopped at a red light near the curb, I pushed the door open and stepped out. As I bent down to grab my bag, a slip of paper fell out from the crease of the back seat. I picked it up and held it in my hand. Only after I closed the car door did I see what it was. It was a ticket for a couples’ pottery class, with a photo attached to it. The date was the 17th of last month. That day, Ethan had told me he was stuck at the construction site doing inspections until 11 PM. He had missed my birthday dinner. I had sat alone at the restaurant waiting for him for two hours. When he finally showed up, he was covered in dust. I had felt so bad for him working so hard that I immediately served him a slice of cake. But in the photo, Ethan and Chloe were sitting side-by-side in front of a pottery wheel. Their hands, covered in wet clay, were clasped together, shaping a cup. The time stamp in the corner of the photo read 7:40 PM. Right when my birthday candles were burning halfway down. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Ethan. “I saved a seat for you at the restaurant. Stop acting like a child. Come over so we can finalize the wedding dress payment.” I stared at the message for a long time. Then, I opened our family group chat. They were currently discussing the wedding favors. Ethan’s mother had sent over a few custom design options. She hadn’t tagged me. Instead, she tagged Chloe. “Chloe, help me look at these. Which one looks better? I also added that cedarwood scent you love.” Chloe replied quickly. “The second pink one is beautiful! Ethan said it looked very elegant too.” No one remembered that I was severely allergic to cedarwood. And pink was my absolute least favorite color. I didn’t reply in the group chat. I closed the chat window and sent a single text to Ethan. “I won’t pay the remaining balance. The wedding is cancelled.” My phone rang immediately. “Aria, what are you throwing a fit about now?” In the background, I could hear Chloe calling the server to order more sweet shrimp. I sent him the photo of the pottery class. The phone went dead silent for a few seconds. When Ethan spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “The pottery studio was right next to the home improvement market. We were bored waiting for the material samples, so we just went in for a bit.” “Was my birthday also just a boring day to you?” “Didn’t I come back to spend the rest of the night with you anyway?” “Aria, stop. We can change the furniture. Cancelling the wedding will make both of our families look ridiculous.” He was finally willing to change the furniture. But the only thing he cared about was still his own reputation. “Ethan, I’m giving you one last choice.” “Leave Chloe right now. Come find me.” “And explain everything face-to-face to both of our parents.” Through the phone, I heard Chloe letting out a soft, painful cough. Ethan quickly said, “Chloe’s stomach is acting up tonight. I can’t leave her here alone. We’ll talk tomorrow.” I closed my eyes and hung up the phone. Then, I officially submitted the cancellation request for our wedding venue.
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