To support my family, I sang in dive bars. I wore the necklace I’d bought myself to the set of the reality show I was secretly funding. The moment I walked in, another contestant gasped in recognition. The day of my wedding, my bride never showed up. The guests murmured amongst themselves as I called her again and again, each call going straight to voicemail. A moment later, a post popped up on my feed, from her childhood best friend. “Every time I fly back into town, she’s the first person I see. It feels good to be someone’s priority.” The accompanying photo showed his hand intertwined with my fiancée’s. My sister, standing beside me, let out a grim little laugh. “So, brother… what about the $150,000 tiara and the million-dollar diamond ring? And those three share-transfer agreements…?” Without looking up, I liked the post. “Sell what you can. The rest of it is just bad luck now.” “And shred the share agreements. She’s clearly a very busy woman. Let’s not add to her burdens.” 1 It was three hours past the scheduled start of the ceremony when Jenna finally stormed into the backstage dressing room. She didn’t even catch her breath before she started laying into me. “How many times have I told you? If I don’t answer after the first call, it means I’m busy.” “Stop calling over and over. It’s so annoying.” Her face was a mask of irritation, devoid of any joy. She looked like she was here to punch a clock, not get married. My best man, Mark, shot me a helpless look. “Should we… give you two a minute?” Normally, this would be my cue to grovel. To apologize profusely and do whatever it took to smooth her ruffled feathers. But today, I felt none of my usual panic. Instead, a strange, reckless calm settled over me. I shook my head. “No need. There’s nothing left to say.” At my words, Jenna’s expression soured even further. She snatched her purse, her heels clacking angrily on the floor as she headed for the door. “If that’s your attitude,” she threw over her shoulder, “then maybe we shouldn’t get married at all!” Mark nudged me, a silent question: Aren’t you going to go after her? I shrugged. “Let her go. The guests have all left anyway.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.” Mark stared at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Well, look at you. Not even going to chase her. Finally growing a spine, are we?” It was after eleven when I got home. Jenna was waiting on the sofa, arms crossed, poised for an interrogation. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” I almost laughed. She was the one who was late. She was the one who had spent our wedding day picking up another man from the airport. And yet, she felt no remorse, only righteous indignation. I ignored her and headed for the stairs. Her voice rose, shrill with frustration, the hand she pointed at me trembling. “Fine! Be that way, Liam! See if I care! Don’t you dare speak to me ever again!” Her face was flushed with anger, her eyes daring me to defy her. She was so certain that this threat, this ultimatum, would send me running back to her, begging for forgiveness. A wave of profound sadness washed over me. All my patience, all my unconditional acceptance of her behavior, had only served to forge the very weapon she now wielded against me. But this time, I was going to disappoint her. I didn't even pause. I just walked up to my room. A piercing shriek of pure, unadulterated rage followed me up the stairs. I put on my headphones, cranked up the music, and slept soundly through the night. The next morning, I found a gift box on the coffee table. Jenna was eating breakfast. As usual, she hadn't made any for me. Her expression was still stormy, but she spoke through a mouthful of toast. “I bought this yesterday afternoon. I was going to give it to you last night if you’d had the decency to apologize.” “I’ll let it slide this one time. Are you happy now?” The classic move. A slap, followed by a cheap sweet. As if a single gift could erase everything. How little did I mean to her? I didn't answer. I just knotted my tie and prepared to leave. Jenna shot to her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Aren’t you even going to look at it? Is this how little you care now?” She strode to the table and ripped open the box. Inside was a men’s necktie. I recognized it. It was the free gift that came with the expensive Swiss watch she’d bought six months ago. A watch that I had never seen, because it was now on Alex Carter’s wrist. The sheer, galling hypocrisy of it made me sick to my stomach. My face must have shown it, because when I pushed her hand away, the calm façade she’d been wearing all morning finally shattered. “Don’t push your luck, Liam!” 2 I didn’t want to fight. I turned to leave. The next thing I knew, the tie was around my neck, pulling me backward. I instinctively struggled, lost my footing, and fell. Jenna screamed and jumped back as the corner of the glass coffee table connected with the back of my head. The world exploded in a nauseating wave of pain and the wet warmth of blood. She stood over me, the tie still clutched in her hand, her face a mask of panic. “You… why didn’t you catch your balance?” “We should go to the hospital.” Her voice was distant, unfocused. As she helped me up, her collar slipped, revealing a cluster of angry red marks on her collarbone. A love bite. She saw me staring and instinctively pulled her collar up. “The mosquitoes have been terrible lately…” I was too tired to argue, too tired to pretend I believed her. I didn't even grunt in response. Jenna frantically gathered my wallet and insurance card, ready to help me out the door. Then her phone rang. She answered it, her tone instantly shifting to one of anxious concern. “I know, I know. I’m on my way.” She shoved my wallet and card into my hand. “Something urgent came up. You’ll have to call an ambulance yourself.” I stared at her, stunned. Had she forgotten who had just caused this injury? “The hospital is a fifteen-minute drive from here!” Her impatience flared. “But I’m in a real hurry. Besides, won’t an ambulance be faster?” “Then at least call one for me!” Jenna paused, her eyes narrowing. “Liam, how old are you? You don’t know how to dial 911?” And with that, she slammed the door, leaving me alone in a pool of my own blood. I staggered to the bedroom for my phone. The sticky blood made it difficult to use the screen. My hands trembled as I wiped them clean and finally dialed for help. After the call, I stumbled back to the front door, propping it open for the paramedics. The room began to spin. The more blood I lost, the fuzzier my thoughts became. I passed out before they arrived. I awoke to the blinding glare of fluorescent lights in a hospital room. An IV was taped to my hand. A nurse came in. “Good, you’re awake. You called just in time. You need to be careful.” “You might experience some dizziness and headaches for a while. You have a mild concussion, and there might be some blood clotting in the brain that could cause temporary side effects. We’ll need to keep you under observation.” I nodded my thanks. I opened my phone. The first thing I saw was a new post from Alex. It was an hour old. “Thankful for the one who always shows up for me, no matter what.” The picture was of Jenna’s back as she spoke with a doctor. In the comments, Alex had replied to someone: “It was nothing, I was just being a worrier.” A sharp pain lanced through my head, a pain that settled deep in my chest and became a dull, throbbing ache. I remembered a time, long ago, when Jenna had cared for me like that. She had just graduated and started working at my family’s company. I’d seen one of the senior managers tearing into her over a project report. Her eyes were swimming with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Later, I found her crying in a stairwell. The sight of her, so fierce and so vulnerable, had tugged at something inside me. 3 I told her that business wasn’t personal, that all that mattered was getting the job done. She said she understood, but the mistake hadn’t been hers. She was always taking the fall for others. She needed the job. Her mother was sick, and the medical bills were piling up. I felt for her. I taught her how to navigate the treacherous currents of corporate politics. I told the manager to give her more opportunities, to help her build her portfolio. We saw each other often at the office. We grew close. Eventually, we started dating. She was a fighter. She seized every opportunity, her progress astonishing everyone. In a few short years, she rose to become the head of a major subsidiary, a woman who commanded respect and envy in equal measure. I was so proud. I had always known she had it in her. I kept my true identity—the fact that my family owned the entire corporation—a secret. I didn’t want her to feel intimidated, or that she hadn’t earned her success. But as her own power and wealth grew, she began to look down on me. After Alex returned from his job overseas six months ago, it had gotten even worse. I hadn’t wanted to give up. I thought that even the coldest stone, held close for years, would eventually warm. I was wrong. Utterly, hopelessly wrong. You can’t hold on to something that doesn’t want to be held. After my IV was done, I went for a walk in the hospital garden. Before I even reached the doors, I saw her, helping Alex pick up a prescription. His arm was around her shoulder. They looked less like friends and more like a couple, deeply in love. Jenna happened to turn her head and saw me. A flash of guilt crossed her face. “Alex hurt his foot,” she said, her voice a little too loud. “I was just helping him.” I just nodded, my expression neutral. “Are you okay? What did the doctor say?” She knew how to be concerned. She knew my injury was more severe than his. She knew I would be jealous. She knew everything. She just didn't care. I didn’t answer. I just turned and walked away. Jenna ran after me, grabbing my arm. “I was just so panicked back there, my head was a mess…” “Jenna…” Alex’s voice interrupted her, but she ignored it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” Alex limped over to us. “I’ve got the medicine. Can you take me home?” Jenna looked from him to me. “Alex, since you’re fine, why don’t you just grab a cab?” He started to argue, but seeing the look on her face, he fell silent. He shot me a venomous glare and limped away. Jenna took a deep breath. “Liam, can we please talk? Properly?” I took a step back, putting distance between us. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” She looked shocked. “So that’s it? That’s your answer to everything now? If you’re going to refuse to communicate for the rest of our lives, then I’d rather we just get a divorce!” In the past, the mere mention of breaking up would have sent me into a tailspin. If she blocked me, I’d camp outside her door for days, terrified of being abandoned. But today, I felt nothing. No panic. No desperation. I just looked at her for a long moment. Then I said, “Okay.” Jenna stared at me, completely stunned. “No, that’s not… I didn’t mean it. It was just an example. Don’t misunderstand.” My heart was a calm, flat sea. “But I mean it.”
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