She Paid For His Subscription While I Canceled Our Wedding

Watching an ad play out before my show, I scrolled through a viral TikTok reel—a nostalgic video about a guy and his ex-girlfriend. “Five years since we broke up, and she’s never let my premium streaming subscription lapse.” The top comment, from a burner account, was brutal in its sweetness: “I’m the creator’s ex. The subscription is linked directly to his phone number, and he has never asked me for a penny.” “He was a great friend and lover. It was my genuine pleasure to pay for him.” “This is all my personal choice and has nothing to do with him. Please go easy on the comments—it hurts me to see people criticize him.” The replies were a deluge of heartbreak: “Ugh! She saw people saying bad things about him and exposed her own secret account just to protect him! I’m crying!” I instinctively tapped on the small account’s profile. A wave of profound, icy absurdity washed over me. The deeply devoted, heartbroken woman was Victoria “Tori” Bellweather, my fiancée—the woman I was set to marry in two days. I stared at the screen, and the five-year-old anchor of my love—the one I’d clung to like a shipwrecked man—snapped. The feeling was gone. If she wasn't mine to have, I wouldn’t try to take her anymore. It was over. The video’s like count kept climbing. Someone in the comments soon doxxed the ex: “OMG! I know these two! Tori was obsessed with Brock!” “They were high school sweethearts all the way through sophomore year of college—never fought! He only had to wish for the stars and she’d give them to him! We were all so jealous!” “They broke up because Tori’s parents didn’t approve of Brock’s career path, I think.” “But now Tori has a fiancé she’s been with for five years. Rumor has it they were set up. No love, just ‘suitable.’” As I read that last comment, the ad finally transitioned to the payment page. Renew Premium. I suddenly realized. Tori had forgotten to renew my subscription. She could remember to pay for her ex-boyfriend, Brock Tanner, for five years straight, but she couldn’t remember the one for the man whose name was on her wedding invitations. My knuckles tightened around my phone. My chest ached, a heavy, suffocating weight. The comment was right, in Tori’s mind, anyway. We were introduced through a family friend. She didn't know I had been silently in love with her for years—ever since she offered me a seat in the back of her senior-year Calculus class. When we met that day, I was so determined to finally be near her that I pushed for a quick engagement, believing that maybe, just maybe, I could earn her love over time. But all I’d done was self-deceive. A sound at the door—Tori. She glanced at me, noting I was still awake, and a faint, familiar weariness crossed her features. “I didn’t check my phone, which is why I didn’t text you back.” Any other night, I would have understood her demanding job in corporate law and shaken my head, telling her it was fine. But her comment on Brock’s video was only minutes old. She was probably still messaging the trolls on the ride home. Our chat log, meanwhile, was an eternal stretch of my own green bubbles. I lifted my gaze to meet her face—as impassive as always—and spoke softly: “You forgot the streaming service again. I just sat through a thirty-second commercial.” She paused, then a flicker of annoyance, barely concealed, tinged her voice. “Couldn’t you just pay for it yourself, Evan? I’m working eighteen-hour days. Am I supposed to keep a mental note of your entertainment subscriptions?” A fresh wave of sorrow rose, but I managed a bitter smile. Always the same excuse. Forgetting our anniversary, rescheduling the meeting with my parents, and zero involvement in any of the wedding planning—it was all attributed to “work.” I had been naive enough to believe her. Now I saw the truth: she wasn’t busy. She just wasn’t in love. This time, I didn't argue. I just nodded, calm and detached. “You’re right.” “The membership’s covered. And, actually, you don’t need to worry about the wedding, either.” Tori froze, her expression shifting from impatience to confusion. “What do you mean?” Our eyes met. There was no fear in her gaze, only a deep-seated irritation. The last, faint trace of hope in my heart evaporated. Before I could answer, she scoffed. “You’re going to throw a fit and break up with me—all because I forgot your subscription?” “Evan Black, you’re becoming absolutely unreasonable.” “Do whatever you need to do.” She spun on her heel and slammed the bedroom door so hard the framed art rattled on the wall. I stood there for a long time, numb, before wiping the cold dampness from my cheek. From the balcony, I heard her on the phone, her tone airy and unconcerned: “Yeah, we fought again.” “Don’t worry, Mom. The wedding is still on. He’ll get over it in a couple of days. That’s how the last five years have gone, hasn’t it?” I clenched my fists and then slowly opened them, taking a self-mocking breath. I picked up my phone. I canceled the wedding. Then, I bought a one-way ticket to California. We slept in separate rooms that night. It was the first time I hadn't groveled first. Tori seemed genuinely thrown off. In the morning, she stared at me with unconcealed astonishment. “You didn’t make my breakfast?” I nodded, my voice flat. “I have to go to the office too, Tori. I didn’t have time to cook for two.” She watched me for a moment, then gave a sharp, dismissive laugh. “Fine. Keep sulking, Evan. It’s boring, but fine.” As she stormed out, a cloud of perfume wafted behind her—a sophisticated, musky scent. We’d been together for five years, and she had never worn perfume. It must be an important date, I thought, fighting the urge to ask. I forced down my food and went to the office to finalize my transfer papers. I was scheduled to leave in three days for a new role on the West Coast. My colleagues decided to host an impromptu dinner party that night to celebrate my promotion. Midway through the meal, Tori texted me: “Working late. Not coming home.” I didn’t reply. I excused myself to the restroom. As I dried my hands, I heard a chorus of excited cheers erupt from the VIP room next door. “I can’t believe we get to see Tori and Brock together again after five years! They belong together!” My heart stopped. I edged toward the door crack and peered through. All the blood in my body turned to sludge. Tori and Brock Tanner were sitting side-by-side, both wearing smiles I had never been granted—a look of genuine, easy joy. Brock’s loud, confident voice came through the door. “Keep it down, guys. The fiancé will be pissed if he finds out.” He turned to Tori, eyes wide with false innocence. “Does your fiancé know you’re out with us tonight? Why isn’t he here?” Tori’s friends immediately erupted in derisive laughter. “Oh, please. ‘Fiancé’? If it weren’t for Mrs. Bellweather finding him ‘suitable,’ he wouldn’t have a chance! He’s just a placeholder, Tori’s safety school!” “Brock, she’s been waiting for you all these years.” “Why do you think Tori’s been working so hard? To break free from her mother’s control and marry you, dummy! Ha!” I blinked, fighting the sudden, sharp sting behind my eyes. Tori was smiling, a silent, damning confirmation. I thought of the night I had almost given up on us, the night she had wrapped her arms around me, eyes glistening from wine. “I’m working to make money so we can have a better life, Evan.” Just as I lost myself in the memory, the door to their room flew open. Brock stood there, looking at me with feigned surprise. He flashed a knowing, smug grin. “Oh? Is this the waiter? Sorry, buddy, we’re all set for service in here!” The room went silent for one agonizing second before erupting into boisterous laughter. “Haha! Brock, you’re killing me! That’s Tori’s fiancé!” “Wait, he’s not wrong, though! Isn’t Evan basically the Bellweather’s personal assistant?” They didn’t even bother to lower their voices now. Their mockery was open, cruel, and unanimous: I was nothing more than a social climber, a fixture Tori’s mother approved of. My nails bit into my palms, the pain the only thing keeping me from running. Brock feigned an embarrassed shrug. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry, Evan! My mistake. Did you come here because you saw my video last night?” I frowned, confused. He pulled out his phone, clicking on his profile. His latest post was a selfie of him and Tori. I shook my head. “I haven’t seen—” Brock cut me off, laughing, and clicked on the viral reel from last night. He winked innocently. “That video, Evan? I set the privacy to ‘Only Viewable by You.’ It’s only been one night, and the views went from 100k to 110k! Were you up all night watching it? Hope I didn’t mess up your sleep schedule, pal!” My mind went instantly blank. My throat closed up. The shame was a burning oil poured over my skin, and the laughter from the room swelled around me. I couldn’t move. My feet were cemented to the floor. Tori finally stepped forward, giving Brock a look of fond exasperation before gently flicking his ear. “Still playing these silly games, Brock?” Brock laughed, an open, unrepentant sound. “It’s fun!” he chirped. “I’ve posted tons of ‘Only You’ videos over the last five years. You watched every single one hundreds of times.” He turned to me, his smile dropping slightly. “Hey, no hard feelings, Evan. I only posted that one for nostalgia. Tori and I are just friends now—” Tori cut him off, finally looking at me, her expression flat. “Don’t bother explaining. People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere. A simple video, and he has to throw a tantrum.” I stood rigid, watching the two of them play the perfect couple. “Evan? What are you doing here?” a familiar voice shouted. It was my colleague. “Hey, isn’t that your fiancée? She knows you’re going to California—” “Let’s go back,” I interrupted, turning sharply and walking away. Brock followed me out. “We’re done, too! Let’s walk out together!” He rushed past and paid for our table—the one with my colleagues. When I went to protest, he looked back at me and chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, man. I put it on the credit card Tori gave me. Her ‘Family Card,’ you know? Ha ha!” I remembered the time I’d innocently asked her for a joint account card. Tori had shaken her head, expressionless. “What’s a ‘Family Card’? I don’t know how to set that up. Just tell me how much you want, and I’ll transfer it.” I had thought she was merely clueless about finance. She wasn't. I nodded, said nothing, and walked away. It was impossible to hail a cab in the winter chill of Manhattan. After my colleagues had left, the wait time on the ride-share app was over an hour. A long, black Bentley pulled up to the curb. Brock, still grinning, opened the passenger door, then paused with exaggerated politeness. “Oops! Almost forgot. After you, Evan!” I bit down on my lip, looking at Tori, who wouldn’t meet my gaze. My voice was dangerously quiet. “You told me your mother died in a car crash. You said you were terrified of driving.” Brock threw his hands up in mock exasperation. “Tori! Did you actually tell him that?” He shook his head, looking at me with pity. “Five years ago, when we were dating, I taught her to lie about that so she wouldn’t have to drive other guys around. Made sure everyone thought she didn’t have a car. Can’t believe she never told you in five years. Her mother died of a stroke, man, not a crash.” Tori finally looked away, fiddling with her purse. “I just… forgot to mention I had a car. I don’t drive it often.” She sighed. “Brock lives downtown, Evan. It’s not on your way. Just take a cab.” Brock offered me a final, false apology, then hopped into the car. The Bentley sped off, leaving me choking on exhaust fumes. The sky, which had been clear, suddenly opened up. A heavy, ice-cold rain began to fall. The restaurant had closed, and there was nowhere to take shelter. My body and soul froze in the downpour. I stood there, letting the rain soak me completely, before finally getting a cab two hours later. Tori still wasn’t home. Her mother, however, was texting me frantic questions about the wedding arrangements. I took a deep breath and told her the truth. Minutes later, Tori called. Her voice was sharp with fury. “Evan, are you completely insane?!” “Why would you take a private fight to my mother? Now she knows about Brock and is demanding I cut him off! She’s even calling him to yell at him!” “You have gone too far!” I hung up, unwilling to argue. I quickly packed a suitcase, intending to spend a couple of nights at a hotel before my flight. Tori walked in just as I was heading for the door. She grabbed my arm, her face dark with anger. “Are you done with this childish tantrum yet?” Just then, a stooped, hateful figure darted out from behind her. A stinging slap landed across my face, the sharp sound splitting the air. “Evan Black! You think you’re a big man now?!” I froze, looking up at the man who was legally my father—the man who had nearly sold me off a decade ago. He was as tyrannical as ever, his face twisted in a sneer. “You finally found a good woman to marry, and you’re throwing a fit? I should’ve sold you to that crew out West back then! It would have been worth as much as the dowry!” “Don’t think you can hide from me! If Tori hadn’t told me you were getting too big for your britches, I wouldn’t even know what you were up to!” The familiar curses and the physical violence instantly dragged me back into that unbearable past. Only Tori’s cold, detached eyes brought me back to the present. Years ago, when she learned about my past, her eyes had been red-rimmed. “We won’t acknowledge him as your father anymore,” she’d promised. “I’ll be your family.” Now, she stood behind him, chin lifted. “Evan, you should have known there would be consequences for trying to hurt Brock.” “I think you’ve lost your bearings, Evan. Let your father teach you a lesson.” I stood there, rigid, letting my father’s open palm land on my face and body. The physical pain was nothing compared to the sickening, agonizing wrench in my heart. Finally, my father stopped, smirking, and pulled out an old, velvet-lined box. His face held the vile pleasure I remembered from my childhood. “You’re just like your useless mother!” “If she hadn’t stopped me from selling you off, you wouldn’t have the balls to pull this stunt!” He raised his hand, ready to smash the urn containing my mother’s ashes. The frozen blood in my veins suddenly erupted. I lunged to grab the box, but Tori was faster. She snatched the urn, turning it over in her hands with a knowing smile. Her voice was almost gentle. “Do you understand your mistake now, Evan?” I looked up at her, disbelief chilling me to the core. My voice was a choked tremor. “I understand.” “I was wrong. I apologize. I shouldn’t have picked a fight with Brock.” “I—” Before I could finish, Brock rushed back into the room. He snatched the box, turning it over with a look of distaste. “What is this thing?” Tori frowned slightly. “It’s a nasty thing, Brock. Don’t touch it.” Nasty thing. The words were a direct hit to my heart. I saw a quick flash of the two of us kneeling together at my mother’s grave, Tori gently wiping the dust from the photo. She turned her sharp gaze back to me. I bit down on my teeth, forcing the words out. “I’m sorry, Brock—” Clatter. The urn dropped to the polished hardwood floor. Brock recoiled, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Ugh! What the hell? It’s an ashes box? That’s disgusting!” He stepped back, covering his mouth and nose, then looked at me, a wide, innocent smile on his face. “What did you just say, Evan? I didn’t hear you.” I stared blankly at the dust motes of my mother rising into the air. My father, cackling, began to scrape the remains with his foot. “Good riddance! Filth!” Tori watched me, her face changing slightly. Her voice was suddenly raw. “Brock didn’t mean it. It was an accident. Don’t blame him.” I bent over, painstakingly pinching the ashes from the floor and dropping them into my pocket. My tears and the fine gray powder mixed together. I could almost smell the familiar, comforting scent of the old woman who had loved me. Tori waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. Dad, you should leave now.” “The wedding is still on. I’ll invite you.” She slipped a large red envelope into my father’s hand, then turned and put her arm around Brock. She looked down at me, still kneeling. “All right, enough of the drama. I told you Brock didn’t mean it.” “I don’t need you to apologize to him again. That should be enough, right?” “You handle the wedding details for the next two days. Brock wants to go to Disney, and I need to take him.” “I’ll be there for the ceremony. Don’t cause any trouble before then.” With one last look of utter disdain, she turned and walked away. Brock’s delighted voice echoed down the hall. “Tori! You remembered you promised me Disney!” Their happy, carefree voices faded. I don’t know how long I stayed there, picking up every last speck of dust, which I finally placed in my pocket before leaving. I canceled every final wedding detail. Then, I blocked and deleted Tori’s number. On the way to the airport, my boss called. “We have a sudden issue with the supply chain over here in the States. You’re the only one who truly understands the New York market. I need you here immediately.” “I know your wedding is in two days, Evan, but this is an emergency. Can you—” “The wedding is canceled, Mr. Rogers.” “I’m already en route to the airport. I’ll make the flight. Don’t worry. I’ll solve it.” My boss let out a sigh of relief and hung up. I watched the clouds drift past the window, then closed my eyes and pulled the SIM card from my phone. As of this moment, I was completely untethered from Victoria Bellweather. Two days later, Tori arrived at the venue to find a different couple’s wedding announcement on the display board. She frowned, her face pale. She called Evan. The automated voice response sent a spike of ice through her. “The number you have dialed is not in service.”

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