The night before my wedding, I walked into my fiancé's apartment and found him entangled with the younger sister of his so-called "savior." The woman was wrapped in the red silk quilt I had bought for our honeymoon, the flush of passion still clinging to the corners of her eyes. I slammed my ultrasound sonogram onto his chest, my voice shaking. "Do you still want this baby or not?" He sat on the edge of the bed and chain-smoked half the night away. As dawn broke, he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and looked up at me. "She is just an obligation. You are the one I love." For the sake of that single sentence, and the child growing inside me, I put on my wedding dress the next morning. I decided to give him one last chance. What I got instead was his best man rushing into my bridal suite. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Miller. Mr. Vance said the wedding is canceled. Chloe went into cardiac arrest and is currently being resuscitated." My bridal bouquet slipped from my hands, shattering against the floor along with my dignity. I chased after him, only to see the taillights of his car disappearing down the avenue. I screamed into the phone, teetering on the edge of a total breakdown. "Liam Vance! If you dare go to her today, I will walk into a clinic tomorrow and make sure your bloodline ends with you!" He was silent for a second. Then, he hung up. ... Only the dial tone remained in my ear. I stood on the steps of the hotel, still wearing my custom Vera Wang gown. The guests milling around the entrance were pointing and whispering. Inside, the officiant stood awkwardly on the stage, holding the microphone, entirely out of his depth. Liam’s mother, Eleanor, hurried over and grabbed my hand tightly. "Rylee, come inside. Let's not make a scene in front of everyone." I looked at her, my voice eerily calm. "Mrs. Vance, there is no wedding." "Nonsense!" She hissed, keeping her voice low. "Liam is just confused in the heat of the moment. Chloe is in a critical condition; he can't just abandon her." "So he can abandon me, but not her?" "You are the woman he is going to marry. You need to be the bigger person." I laughed. A short, sharp, bitter sound. I pulled my hand out of her grip. "I am no longer interested in being Mrs. Vance." I turned, lifted the heavy tulle skirt of my dress, and walked back toward the bridal suite. Eleanor called out behind me, "Rylee Miller! If you walk out those doors today, don't ever expect to be welcomed back into the Vance family!" I didn't look back. In the dressing room, I stripped off the gown and changed back into my jeans and a sweater. The makeup artist hovered nervously, reaching for my hairpins. "Ms. Miller, your makeup..." "Leave it." I grabbed my purse and walked out. Outside the hotel, the sky was a heavy, overcast gray. I flagged down a yellow cab. "Mount Sinai Hospital, please." My phone vibrated relentlessly in my purse. I pulled it out. It was Liam’s executive assistant, Mark. I let it ring. I knew exactly what he was going to say. Mr. Vance is handling an emergency. Mr. Vance didn't mean to leave. Mr. Vance will explain everything later. Over the past ten years, I had learned their script by heart. Chloe Davis was Liam’s "obligation." Because Chloe’s older brother, Tyler, had died five years ago, supposedly saving Liam’s life. That weight of obligation had crushed Liam for five years. For a long time, I actually agreed with him. I thought taking care of Chloe was the right thing to do. It wasn't until today that I finally understood: some obligations had long since crossed the line into something else entirely. The cab pulled up to the emergency room entrance. I paid the fare and walked through the sliding glass doors. Outside the resuscitation room, Liam was sitting on a plastic waiting bench. His head was bowed, elbows resting on his knees, hands buried deep in his hair. His tailored tuxedo jacket lay crumpled on the seat beside him. I walked over. Hearing my footsteps, he looked up. When he saw me, he immediately stood up. His eyes were entirely bloodshot. "Rylee, why are you here? I am so sorry about today..." "How is she?" I cut him off, staring blankly at the closed doors of the ER. "The doctors said it was acute heart failure. They're still working on her. It doesn't look good." I nodded. "Understood." I turned on my heel, ready to leave. Liam grabbed my arm. "Rylee, please don't be like this. Tyler died because of me. I can't just leave Chloe to die; she has no family left in this world." I violently shook off his hand. "Liam, I haven't done anything. I just think it's fascinating that our wedding, our future, isn't as important as a 'little sister' you've known for five years." "That's not true! Rylee, you are the most important person in my life! But she's dying!" "The doctor didn't say she was dying," I replied, my voice dead flat. Liam's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Just then, the ER doors swung open. An attending physician stepped out, pulling off his surgical mask. "Family of Chloe Davis?" Liam instantly rushed forward. "I'm here." "The patient's extreme emotional distress caused severe tachycardia. We've stabilized her rhythm. She's no longer in critical danger. We'll transfer her to a regular room for observation for a couple of days." Liam let out a massive sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping. He turned to look at me, a hint of reproach in his eyes. "See? Look how fragile she is. Can't you show just a little empathy?" I remained silent. A hospital bed was wheeled out. Chloe lay on it, her face pale, eyes closed. As she passed by me, her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes opened just a sliver. When she saw me, tears instantly welled up and spilled over her cheeks. Liam immediately hurried to her side, taking her hand in both of his. "Chloe, don't be scared. I'm right here." I turned around and walked out of the hospital. The cold autumn wind hit my face. Only then did I realize my own heart was beating frantically against my ribs. 2 Liam didn't come home the next day. Our newly purchased, newly furnished townhouse was dead silent. I called a real estate broker and listed the property. "Yes. Priced for a quick sale." Liam finally returned that afternoon. His eyes were sunken with exhaustion. "Rylee, I want to apologize on Chloe's behalf. She didn't mean to cause a scene yesterday." "She can't apologize for herself?" Liam frowned, taken aback. "She's still very weak." "Liam, let's stop talking about her and talk about us. What about the wedding? How are you explaining this to all our family and friends?" He fell silent for a long moment. "Let's wait for things to cool down. In a few months, when the gossip dies, we'll host another reception." "Another reception?" I stared at him. "Do you honestly think this is something you can just 'do over'?" "Then what do you expect me to do? It happened, Rylee. I know you feel wronged, but Chloe literally just stepped back from death's door. Can we just be a little more understanding? Please?" There was that word again. Understanding. I stood up, walked into the master bedroom, pulled out a suitcase, and began packing my clothes. Liam followed me in, his brow furrowing deeply. "What are you doing?" "I'm selling this house." His face darkened instantly. "Rylee, haven't you thrown enough of a tantrum?" "I'm not throwing a tantrum." I meticulously folded a sweater and placed it in the suitcase. "I just don't want to live here anymore." He marched over and grabbed my wrist. "You are not selling it! This is our home!" "From the second you abandoned it for another woman, it stopped being a home." The anger in his eyes finally ignited. "You are being completely unreasonable!" His cell phone rang sharply, cutting through the tension. He answered it, his tone softening instantly. "What's wrong? Another nightmare? Don't be scared, I'm coming right now." He hung up, released my wrist, and looked at me with thinly veiled impatience. "Rylee, stop this. Chloe is emotionally unstable right now, and I need to go check on her. We'll talk about this when I get back." He assumed I would compromise, just like I always had. I looked at him, my voice freezing cold. "If you walk out that door today, don't bother coming back." His footsteps halted. He looked back at me, his gaze equally icy. "Rylee, my patience has limits." And then, he walked out. I listened to the heavy thud of the front door closing. I placed my last blouse into the suitcase and zipped it shut. 3 I moved back into my design studio. It was a tiny loft in Brooklyn—workspace downstairs, living quarters upstairs. Liam didn't contact me. I didn't contact him. A week later, Eleanor asked to meet me. In an upscale café on the Upper East Side, she slid a cashier's check across the marble table toward me. "This is two million dollars. Leave Liam." I stared at the string of zeros. "Mrs. Vance, between him and me, it's never been about money." "I know." she picked up her espresso cup, her movements practiced and elegant. "You two have ten years of history. But Rylee, you need to understand something. The Vance family needs a wife who understands the big picture, a woman who can share Liam's burdens. Not a woman who creates unnecessary trouble." "And Chloe Davis understands the big picture?" "Chloe is pure and kindhearted. Her brother gave his life for Liam. It's only right that Liam protects her. As his fiancée, you should have supported him, not fought him at every turn." I understood now. In their eyes, every single grievance I swallowed was just me "creating trouble." I slid the check back across the table. "Keep your money. As for Liam... you can keep him too." I stood up. "I wish him and Chloe a lifetime of happiness." I walked out of the café and blocked the phone numbers of every single member of the Vance family. The world finally went quiet. I threw myself entirely into preparing for the upcoming Milan International Jewelry Design Competition, only three months away. Winning that was my ultimate dream as a designer. The days were exhausting, but peaceful. Until an uninvited guest showed up at my studio. Chloe. She was wearing a simple white sundress, no makeup, looking the picture of fragile innocence. "Rylee, I came to apologize." She sat in the chair across from my drafting table, her eyes rimmed with red. "What happened on your wedding day was my fault. I shouldn't have..." "Get to the point," I said, not looking up from my sketchpad. She choked on her words for a second. "Liam has been in a terrible mood these past few days. He's been drinking heavily. I know it's all because of me." She pulled a sleek black credit card from her designer handbag. "Rylee, this is the supplementary card Liam gave me. I haven't spent a single cent of it. I'm giving it back to you now. Please, just stop being mad at him, okay?" I put down my pencil and looked at her. "Chloe, do you think this is a fun game?" Her expression stiffened. "I... I don't know what you mean..." "Every single time you get 'sick', every time you have an 'emergency', it coincidentally lands on a major milestone for him and me. Chloe, you calculate these things down to the minute, don't you?" The color drained from her face. "I haven't..." "Take your card and get the hell out of my studio." She bit her lip, and the tears began to fall perfectly on cue. "Rylee, I know you hate me. But... if the person who died five years ago was Liam instead of my brother, how would you feel?" I stared at her, saying nothing. She stood up, leaving the card on my desk. "Believe me or not, I never wanted to ruin your relationship." "I was just... so lonely." With that, she turned and left. I picked up the black card and dropped it directly into the trash bin. That night, Liam showed up. He reeked of alcohol. He practically kicked the door of my studio open. "Rylee Miller! What did you do to Chloe?!" He stormed over and grabbed me by the shoulders, his fingers digging in hard. "She went home and slit her wrists! If the housekeeper hadn't found her in time, she'd be dead! Are you happy now?" My heart plummeted. This trick again. "I didn't do anything." "Stop lying!" he roared, his eyes bloodshot. "She is so kind she brought all her savings to give back to you! Why did you have to push her over the edge?!" His grip was painfully tight. "Liam, do you believe her, or do you believe me?" He froze. I stared straight into his eyes. I saw a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions churning inside them. Finally, he shoved me away. "I'm taking you to the hospital to apologize to her!" "I'm not going." "You don't have a choice!" He grabbed my arm and started dragging me forcefully toward the door. I struggled, fighting him with everything I had. "Liam, you're insane!" "You're the insane one!" he yelled back, his eyes feral. "You didn't use to be like this! When did you become so vicious, so completely unreasonable?!" He was right. I didn't use to be like this. The old me would have believed every word he said, would have empathized with every difficulty he faced. I would have taken his burdens as my own. When did I change? Probably somewhere between the first time he abandoned me for another woman, and the hundredth. He dragged me all the way down the stairs. His SUV was parked right outside. He yanked the passenger door open and tried to shove me inside. Using every ounce of strength I had left, I broke free from his grip. "Liam." I looked at him, my voice shockingly calm. "We're done." He froze, as if he couldn't process what I had just said. "What did you say?" "I said, we're breaking up. From this moment on, you and your precious Chloe have absolutely nothing to do with me." His face turned a sickly shade of gray. "Rylee, don't you dare regret this!" "My biggest regret is pulling you out of the gutter ten years ago, and spending the next ten years letting you push me back into it." I turned around, walked upstairs, slammed the door, and deadbolted it. I leaned against the heavy wood, listening to him pound on it from the other side. Again and again. Then, the roar of a V8 engine starting up. He left. I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. A sharp, piercing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. I looked down. Blood was seeping through my jeans, pooling on the floorboards. I went to the ER alone. The attending doctor looked at my ultrasound results, his brow furrowed. "You're seven weeks pregnant. You're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. Your emotional stress levels are dangerously high." "My baby... can you save it?" "We need to admit you for observation immediately. But to proceed with interventions to save the pregnancy, we need a family member's signature. Where is your husband?" I fell silent. "He's... out of town on business." "Then call another relative." I had no other relatives. My parents died when I was very young. I was raised by my grandfather. He passed away five years ago. In this entire world, I thought I at least had Liam. Now, I had no one. I sat on the hard plastic chair in the hospital corridor for a very long time. My phone screen lit up. It was a photo sent by Mark, Liam's assistant. In the photo, Liam was sitting by Chloe's hospital bed, carefully peeling an apple for her. Chloe was lying against the pillows, her wrist heavily bandaged in white gauze, looking at his profile with a sickeningly sweet smile. Below the photo was a text message: [Ms. Miller, Mr. Vance said to tell you he will come see you once Ms. Davis's condition is stable.] I stared at that photo for a long, quiet eternity. Then I stood up and walked back into the doctor's office. "Doctor." "Have you made a decision?" I nodded. "I don't want to keep the baby." The doctor looked at me, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Go to the front desk and process the paperwork." I took the surgical consent form to the nurses' station. The line for 'Family Member Signature' was blank. I signed my own name on the 'Patient Signature' line, and then I lay down on the cold operating table. The anesthesia pushed into my veins. In the final second before consciousness faded, I had one last thought. Liam Vance, our debts are settled.
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