The fifth time Julian missed our wedding, my best friend Mia sent me a message. Evie, I’m so sorry. Something urgent came up at the firm. I can’t make it as your maid of honor today. Next time, I promise! I was about to reply when a notification lit up my screen. Sunrise, cold air, and you. Perfect. We really are two romantic lunatics! The girl beaming in the photo was Mia. And the tall figure with his arm around her shoulders—that was unmistakably Julian. My fingers tightened around the skirt of my dress as I scrolled down through the account. So this was the truth—every day they’d left me behind—my birthday, my mother’s funeral, those last four weddings—they’d been together the whole time. Seven years of love with Julian. Ten years of friendship with Mia. And what it had bought me were five abandoned weddings, and a betrayal that had lasted for years. In that moment, something inside me went quiet and final. Under her post, I typed one line. Truly romantic. The wedding and the groom—they’re all yours. …… The post vanished almost instantly. The account went blank a second later. Mia’s messages came one after another. Evie, I can explain. It’s really not what you think. Please don’t do this. A moment later, Julian sent a message too. Evie, calm down. My fault for not telling you sooner. We really are working. Don’t overthink it. We’ll talk when I get back. We really are working. We’ll talk when I get back. A lie I’d heard countless times. I swiped their messages away, one by one. Explanations didn’t matter anymore. Soon, I’d be gone. I opened another thread and calmly typed a message. In seven days, I’ll bring the research portfolio you wanted and join your company in New York. Ethan Shaw replied almost immediately. I’ll be waiting. I stood, took off my veil, and looked around at the wedding venue we’d put together. My eyes stung. I could still hear Mia laughing the day she helped me decorate it. “God, Julian’s getting such a bargain. He gets to marry someone as beautiful as you. If I were a man, I’d have married you long before he ever got the chance.” Back then, she’d helped me arrange the venue and gone with me to try on gowns. In the end, she was the reason I’d been abandoned at the altar. Five times. Just then, the wedding planner walked over. “Ms. Hart, the ceremony time has passed. Should we reschedule, the same as before?” My nails dug into my palm. “No,” I said. “There won’t be a next time.” She hesitated. “Ms. Hart, you purchased our annual planning package. The fee is nonrefundable if you don’t hold the wedding. Are you sure you don’t want to think it over?” “You and Mr. Foster have been together for eight years. Whatever the problem is, I’m sure it can be worked out.” I lifted my right hand and looked at the cheap ring on my middle finger. Julian had told me once: “Evie, I don’t have much right now. But when I do, I’ll buy you the most beautiful diamond in the world.” But I’d seen the diamond he’d given Mia on her private account. A Cartier. Two hundred thousand dollars. He’d never given me anything close. Knockoff bracelets from street stalls. Discounted perfume. Cheap substitutes. Those were the gifts I’d gotten in exchange for eight years. I pulled the ring off and dropped it into the trash can by my feet. “The problem is him,” I said. “So I’m solving the problem by removing him.” The pale mark it left behind was all that remained of what we’d once been. Seeing how firm I was, the planner stopped trying to change my mind. I went back to my apartment and sank onto the couch. My chest felt sliced open, and the pain made it hard to breathe. At three in the morning, the front door swung open. Julian walked in, still wearing the matching hiking jacket from Mia’s post. A week earlier, Mia had asked me if I thought that jacket looked nice. Back then, I’d thought she meant to give me one. I’d stupidly said, “If we each wore one, we’d look great together.” She refused, smiling as she hooked her arm around my shoulder. “You’re not in great shape, Evie. You could never hike. I’ll just switch between the two.” I believed her. But it turned out Julian had given it to her. Two thousand dollars each. A famous couples’ brand. Julian saw me in the dim light, and his voice came out tired. “Mia was so upset she made me push work back and come home.” “Evie, what are you overthinking now? Can’t you give us a moment of peace?” I stood. “You had a business emergency on a mountaintop? Or do you think I’m stupid enough to keep pretending after ninety-nine flirty posts between the two of you?” Julian looked away. His voice softened as he reached for my wrist. “Evie, I went hiking with her because I didn’t want her going alone. The business trip was real. Stop being unreasonable.” The dull ache in my chest made it hard to breathe. I pulled my wrist free and looked into his eyes. “When I was seventeen and three thugs chased me for three blocks and I nearly died, you were working late. You told me not to make a scene. And now you’re telling me you were worried she wouldn’t be safe on a hike?” I shook my head and gave a bitter smile. “Julian Foster. Let’s break up.”
He froze for a second. Then he laughed, half-dismissive. “Evie, quit it.” “Mia’s your best friend. Isn’t it perfectly normal for me to look out for her when you’re not around?” “We kept it from you because you’re too jealous. If you’re really that worked up about it, next time I’ll bring you on the trip. Happy?” He reached out, as if to ruffle my hair the way you’d humor a child. I stepped aside, looked him in the eye, and said, word by word: “Julian. I’m serious. We’re breaking up.” The smile on his face slowly froze over. His eyes turned cold. He let out a low, cold laugh. “Evelyn. You’re breaking up with me over something as stupid as me going hiking with Mia? Calling off the wedding?” “Your mother’s dead. Your father’s a drunk. With a family like yours, who else is going to marry you besides me? Or are you planning to grow old alone?” I stared at him in disbelief. My eyes burned. My lips trembled. When I was seventeen and my father nearly beat me to death in a drunken rage, Julian had stepped in front of me and taken the hit. He’d once promised: “As long as I’m here, no one hurts you.” The day my mother died, I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe in front of her headstone. He’d held me then, too. “I’m sorry I’m late, Evie. I’ll love you the way she did.” Now the same man was using my dead mother and my broken family as weapons to cut me. He saw my body stiffen and reached for my hand again. “I’m sorry. I was angry. I didn’t mean it.” I shook him off and forced my voice to steady. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Julian. I’m leaving—” Before I could finish, a slender figure rushed through the door. Julian dropped my hand instantly. Mia looked at him first, and only afterward turned to me, eyes shining with tears. “Evie, thank God you’re okay. I was so scared you’d do something stupid, so I rushed back.” “From the day you introduced me and Julian, the three of us have always been closest friends, right? Those posts were just friendship stuff.” “I hid that account from you because I didn’t want you overthinking.” When I stayed silent, she gave a small, careful laugh. “You don’t actually believe that whole ‘watch out for your best friend around your man’ thing, do you? That’s absurd. How could I possibly steal Julian from you?” Right. We were supposed to be closest friends. When we were kids, Mia and I had lived in the same run-down neighborhood, and she often had nothing hot to eat. I used to steal bread from home to bring her. I took my father’s beatings for it. She’d looked at the bruises on my body and cried. “Evie, thank you for being my friend. I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you.” I’d put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “From now on, I’ve got you.” But from the day I introduced her to Julian, she began to change. I was quietly pushed out of their world. When we went shopping, I always trailed behind them. When we ordered food, no one asked what I wanted. Even when a storm forced them to change our flight during a trip, no one bothered to tell me. And afterward, they’d always brush it off. “Evie, don’t be silly. We can’t pay attention to you every second. If something’s bothering you, just say so.” I had said so. Had anyone ever listened? “Whatever. I’m done with both of you.” My voice was soft, but Mia wouldn’t let it go. Her face crumpled into a look of hurt and grievance. Tears fell onto my palm. Once, I would’ve felt sorry for her—comforted her gently, taken her out, bought her whatever she wanted, done anything to make her happy. Not anymore. Mia’s voice trembled now, every word a small blade. “It’s my fault the wedding didn’t happen today. Let’s do it tomorrow. I’ll be there, I promise. Please don’t be angry.” I was done. Utterly. I threw her hand off, hard. “Enough! Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother’s death!” She stumbled back two steps, staring at me, stunned, tears sliding down one after another. “Evie, I just forgot for a second—” Before she could finish, Julian shoved me aside and pulled her behind him. I slammed back into the shelf. The framed photo on the shelf toppled off. The glass shattered, and a flying shard sliced across my calf, drawing blood. Julian glanced at me once and said impatiently: “We’re busy. Forgetting is normal. Not everyone gets to sit around like you do. Was it really worth going on and on about this?” “Evelyn Hart, you look like a shrew. You want this wedding so badly you’ve lost your mind.” Julian stood right in front of me. But he felt very far away. “I—” Before I could speak, Mia threw out one line and pushed past him toward the door. “Fine. From start to finish, this is my fault. I’ll go. Don’t fight because of me!” Julian took a step after her, then stopped. He turned back to me.
“Bandage the cut on your leg first,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll go find her. It isn’t safe for her to be alone this late. You should calm down.” Something in my chest gave a dull thud. “Go, Julian. I’ll sell this apartment. You don’t need to come back.” I was calm. But anger flared in his eyes. “Evelyn, what the hell is wrong with you? I told you it isn’t what you think. What more do you want?” I wasn’t losing my mind. I just didn’t love him anymore. “I don’t want anything. This apartment was where we were supposed to live after the wedding. We’re broken up now. Why wouldn’t I sell it?” “You’re always so worried about her safety. Now you can move in with her and protect her every second of the day. Isn’t that what you want?” My calm and my acceptance came across as provocation to him. “Keep this up. I’ll wait and watch you come crawling back begging me to marry you.” He was furious. “You’re completely unreasonable.” “That won’t happen,” I said. “I’m leaving.” “Fine. If you’re getting the hell out this time, get out for good. I’m not in the mood to come looking.” Bang. The door slammed shut. I looked at his retreating back and felt nothing. In the past, whenever we fought, I’d deliberately run away from home. Really, I’d only hide near the apartment, because I knew he’d always come find me. Seven years of love. Seven years of fighting. But somewhere along the way, that stopped working. And it turned into this— “I’m already exhausted from work. Can you stop making trouble?” “Why can’t you be more like Mia? She can talk cases with me. She can travel with me for work. What can you do besides fight?” I bent down and picked up the broken glass with my bare hands. The photo had split along the frame—I was on the outside, and their half was still intact. I didn’t look at it again. I dropped the photo and the shards into the trash. The next day, I packed my things into a suitcase, carried a cardboard box out to the backyard, and set it on fire. The flames flickered in my eyes. Eight years of love. Ten years of friendship. All of it, over. Julian had just come back and happened to see it. He looked at the things burning in the pit, panic crossing his face. He tried to reach in and pull them out with his bare hands, but it was too late. His eyes reddened as he grabbed my arm. “Why would you burn them? Weren’t these your most precious things?” “They used to be. Not anymore.” The nine hundred and ninety-nine paper cranes Mia had folded to pray for my exam scores. The bracelet she’d bought me with her first paycheck. The ninety-nine love letters Julian had written me. The handmade ceramic ornament we’d made together. Once the love was gone, they were no different from trash by the roadside. Julian stared at me, trying to find some trace of change on my face. He found nothing. He let go, awkwardly. “Evie, you’re doing all this because you want an explanation, right?” “Fine. Everything I did with Mia was something friends do. You think we wronged you, but we never crossed a line.” A tear slid down my cheek. I hadn’t meant to cry. It just struck me as absurd. Did betrayal have to involve sex? No. Emotional betrayal was betrayal too. When we watched the snow together, he photographed it, turned away, and sent the picture to Mia. When we went to Disneyland and bought plush toys, he didn’t think about what I liked. He picked up another one and paid for it because he thought Mia would like it. His fiancée was standing right beside him, but the only one in his heart was Mia. “Enough,” I said. “You don’t need to explain. I’m leaving anyway. It doesn’t matter.” My phone screen was still lit on the patio table, showing the New York flight confirmation. Julian caught a glimpse of it and frowned. “You’re going to New York for work? Then we’ll talk about the next wedding date when you get back.” “I promise I won’t miss it this time. And stop using a breakup to threaten me.” He didn’t ask any further. I didn’t explain again. I just looked at him quietly. “What if I don’t come back?”
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