Alyssa and I were standing in the county clerk’s office. We were just one step away—waiting for our photo to be taken for the marriage license—when her phone rang, and she walked out. She left me standing there in the middle of the registry office, stranded and utterly humiliated. I called her. No answer. I texted her. Nothing but silence. Finally, out of options, I dialed her childhood best friend’s number. Sure enough, Alyssa picked up. "Steven, seriously, can you stop nagging me?" Alyssa’s voice was sharp with irritation. "Chase has a fever. I have to stay here and take care of him today. Stop calling and waking him up. We can just reschedule the marriage license for another day." I sat frozen on the plastic waiting room chair, the phone pressed to my ear. "This is the seventh time we’ve rescheduled, Alyssa," I whispered, my voice barely carrying. "So what?" she snapped. "The clerk’s office isn't going anywhere. It’s not like it’s going to disappear!" My face went entirely numb, though inside, it felt like a knife was twisting in my chest. The clerk behind the counter gave me a look of deep, painful sympathy. "Are we still doing this, sir?" she asked gently. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded slowly. "Yes. We are." … I pulled up my contacts and called Tyler’s older sister, Viola. I told her I was in. I agreed to her proposal. After hanging up, I asked the clerk if she could give me just a few minutes. I was still sitting there, dazed, when Viola walked through the double doors. She had parked her sleek, cherry-red Ferrari right out front, and the moment she stepped inside, she commanded the room. People actually stopped murmuring just to look at her. Viola walked straight to me and sat down in the plastic chair beside mine. She crossed her long legs, her expression cool, sharp, and businesslike. "Changed your mind?" she asked, looking at me intently. "You’re ready to go through with this sham marriage to get our families off our backs?" I nodded quietly. It wasn't just about escaping my family’s constant nagging. For me, the clock was ticking. I needed my grandmother to find peace before she left this world. Six months ago, her health had taken a sharp turn for the worse. She had been confined to a hospital bed ever since, and every single time I visited, she would take my hand and ask when I was going to settle down. She wanted to see me married. She wanted to know I wouldn’t be left behind in this world. She kept saying that if she knew someone was by my side, she could close her eyes without worrying about leaving me all alone. That was why I had been begging Alyssa to marry me for the last six months. We had made it to the county clerk’s office seven times. Seven times we stood on the precipice of a life together, and seven times she had walked away, always for some urgent crisis involving Chase. The last time, Chase had sprained his ankle, and she had to rush to his apartment because he "couldn't bear the pain." The time before that, Chase had locked himself out of his apartment, and she had to drive across town with his spare key. And the time before that, Chase was craving a specific bowl of ramen from a diner uptown, and she abandoned me to go wait in line for him. Every single one of those seven times was because of Chase. Every single time, Alyssa had abandoned me without a second thought. The irony was suffocating. I had given her seven chances. And she couldn't even spare five minutes to take a photo with me to seal our future. But honestly, as I watched her walk out this time, I didn't feel the sharp sting of heartbreak. Maybe I had simply gone numb. Or maybe, deep down, I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, my mind drifted to what my grandmother had whispered to me from her hospital bed last week. "Steven, sweetie, I don't think I have much time left. I might not make it to your wedding. But even if you end up alone, you have to promise me you'll be strong. Don't let anyone walk all over you." I had promised her I would be strong. So, I was done compromising. I was done waiting. "Alyssa, I gave you your chances. Seven of them." The paperwork with Viola went smoothly. But just as we stepped into the small booth to have our photo taken, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Alyssa. "Don't be mad, Steven. I really couldn't leave Chase today. But I'm back home now, and I've cooked your favorite pasta. I'll be waiting for you! xoxo" Viola glanced over at my screen, her expression unreadable. "Still want to go through with this?" she asked quietly. I took a deep, steadying breath. "Keep going," I said, looking straight at the camera. We walked out of the office a few minutes later, holding our official marriage certificate. Before she got back into her car, I turned to her. "Are you free tomorrow? There's somewhere I need you to go with me." Viola swung her long legs into the driver's seat of the Ferrari. "Call me with the details," she said, starting the engine. "And be ready. My parents will probably require your presence in a couple of days to prove we actually did this." With a quick nod, she drove off. Life is a strange, unpredictable thing. I had spent four years in college and three years afterward building a life with Alyssa, only for it to crumble into nothing. Yet here I was, legally bound to Tyler's older sister—a woman I had barely spoken to before today. On my way back to the apartment, Alyssa texted again, this time with a photo. The dining table was covered in a massive spread of food. "Where are you? Dinner is ready! If you're late, there won't be any left!" She meant it, too. By the time I unlocked the door and walked inside, the dining table was a disaster zone. The plates were scraped clean, with nothing left but stained napkins and empty serving dishes. Chase was sitting there, looking every bit the innocent, bright-eyed golden boy. He looked up at me with mock contrition. "Oh, Steven, I'm so sorry. I was just starving, and Alyssa insisted I eat first. I hope you don't mind." Even a blind man could see the smug provocation in his eyes. For a split second, my blood boiled, and my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. Chase and Alyssa had been inseparable since they were toddlers. In Alyssa's world, he occupied a sacred space that no one else could touch. Our relationship used to be easy, full of laughter and effortless love. We rarely argued. And when we did, I was always the one to cave, to apologize, to take the blame just to keep the peace. I carried the weight of her temper because I loved her. My friends used to tell Alyssa how lucky she was to have someone who adored her so unconditionally. But the moment Chase came back into her life after college, everything changed. She became someone I barely recognized. "Steven, why are you just getting back now? I texted you hours ago," Alyssa said, stepping out of the kitchen. She frowned the moment she saw me. In her mind, she was used to me dropping everything and rushing home the second she snapped her fingers. "I had some things to take care of," I said, keeping my voice flat. "What could possibly be more important than coming home to the dinner I made for you?" Her tone was casual, but the underlying accusation was clear. I had no intention of telling her about my marriage to Viola. Since I had already made up my mind to leave, Alyssa was nothing more than a stranger to me now. I had only come back to pack. "Nothing major. I have an unexpected business trip, and I need to pack a bag," I said. Without waiting for her response, I walked straight past her and into the bedroom. But the moment I pushed the bedroom door open, I froze. The bed sheets I had neatly made that morning were a tangled mess, and the closet doors swung open, my clothes rifled through. I could have overlooked that. But on my nightstand, the intricate, handcrafted wooden replica of an old cathedral—the one my grandmother had spent weeks putting together for me—was snapped in half. Tiny pieces of wood and delicate carvings lay scattered across the hardwood floor. Something inside me snapped. "Alyssa!" I yelled, my voice shaking. "Who was in here? Who broke my things?" Alyssa sauntered in, her brow furrowing slightly before smoothing out into complete indifference. "Oh, please. It’s just a wooden toy. I’ll hire someone to glue it back together for you later." I stared at her, utterly speechless. That flippant, dismissive tone was the perfect summary of how little I meant to her. And looking at her face, I knew immediately who had done it. Only Chase could warrant this level of immediate, defensive protection. "Chase broke it, didn't he?" I said quietly. My calm voice seemed to ignite a fire in her. Her eyes flared with anger as she stepped into my space. "Do you have proof that Chase did it? Maybe you didn't build it right and it fell over on its own! Don't you dare start throwing wild accusations at him, Steven. Unless you have actual proof, keep your mouth shut before I sue you for slander!" I bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper. She protected him so fiercely, so effortlessly. One simple, logical question, and she was threatening to take me to court. But she hadn't always been like this. I still remembered the rainy night I fell in love with her. I had gotten into a minor car crash, and she had run three blocks through a downpour without an umbrella to find me. That proud, image-conscious girl had stood in the pouring rain, screaming at the reckless driver who hit me, completely unconcerned with how she looked. What happened to that girl? How did she turn into this? I didn't argue. She was right about one thing—I didn't have proof. I knelt on the floor and began carefully picking up the wooden shards, placing the broken halves of the cathedral into a box. From the doorway, Chase’s pathetic, whining voice drifted in. He limped into the room, leaning heavily on the doorframe. "Alyssa, please don't fight with Steven because of me. Even though I didn't touch it, if Steven wants to blame me, let him. Nobody really liked me when I was growing up anyway. It's only natural he hates me too." He hobbled over and knelt beside me, pretending to help. But as he did, he deliberately planted his sneaker firmly onto one of the larger wooden carvings on the floor and ground his heel into it, crushing it to splinters. Leaning in close, he whispered so only I could hear: "I broke it. What are you gonna do about it?" A white-hot rage flared in my chest, and I shoved him away. But before my hand even made full contact with his shoulder, he threw himself backward onto the floor, his bandaged ankle hitting the corner of the nightstand with dramatic force. He let out a sharp cry of pain. "Steven! I was just trying to help!" Before I could even process the theatricality of his fall, Alyssa grabbed my arm, her grip bruising. Her face was twisted in a savage glare I had never seen before. She looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. "Even if you hate him, did you have to physically assault him? He’s injured, Steven! He’s a patient!" I looked at her, my arm aching in her grip, and felt a profound sadness wash over me. The girl I loved was entirely gone. "I barely even touched him," I said, my voice dead. The slap was sudden and deafening. My head snapped to the side, and a hot, throbbing pain flared across my cheek. "You’re still lying!" Alyssa screamed. "Do you think I'm blind, Steven? I was standing right there! I saw you push him! First you lie about him breaking your toy, and now you attack him? I never knew you could be this cruel. You’re vicious!" I couldn't even breathe. I didn't bother trying to defend myself anymore. What was the point? She had already written the script in her head. She let go of my arm, looking down at me with cold disgust. "Nothing to say? You’re pathetic, Steven. Truly pathetic." But instead of anger, I felt a strange sense of relief. If there had been any lingering warmth, any foolish hope left in my heart, that slap had extinguished it completely. I didn't argue. I didn't struggle to explain. As Alyssa helped Chase to his feet, he looked over her shoulder and mouthed a single sentence to me: "You never stood a chance." If you want her so badly, she's yours. Terrified that Chase had aggravated his ankle, Alyssa quickly called an Uber and practically carried him out of the apartment to the hospital. I slowly stood up, my legs slightly shaking. In the full-length mirror near the closet, the bright red imprint of her hand was already bruising on my cheek. She had hit me with everything she had. I let out a soft, humorless laugh, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of my lip. That slap had shattered the last of my illusions. I spent the next hour packing every single piece of clothing I owned into a suitcase. What I couldn't fit, I dragged down to the dumpster. Before I walked out, I called a local real estate agent and listed the apartment. It was mine, bought with my grandmother’s hard-earned savings as a wedding gift for my future. Now, the thought of staying here made my skin crawl. Some things are too dirty to clean. I dragged my suitcase to a nearby hotel for the night. From here on out, I was going to spend every spare second with my grandmother. The next morning, I called Viola. Her voice was thick with sleep when she answered. It took a few gentle nudges—and a quick call to Tyler to help coax her out of bed—before she finally got moving. On our way to the hospital, Viola and I rehearsed our story. My grandmother had met Alyssa before and knew she was the one I had planned to marry. To keep her from worrying during her final days, I asked Viola to play along, hoping we wouldn't slip up. To my surprise, Viola was a natural. She connected with my grandmother instantly, chatting effortlessly about everything from the hardships of the older generation to modern technology. By the time we had to leave, my grandmother was holding Viola’s hand, reluctant to let go. She pulled me close, patting my hand gently. "Stevenary, dear... this one is good. She's a hundred times better than that Alyssa girl." A wave of panic hit me. I didn't want my grandmother to know I had rushed into a marriage of convenience, so I forced a laugh and whispered, "Grandma, you must be getting confused. This is Alyssa." My grandmother gave me a knowing, gentle look. "I may be sick, Stevenary, but I’m not blind. I know exactly who she is. I just hope my old bones can hold out long enough to see your wedding reception..." I quickly pulled our marriage certificate out of my coat pocket and placed it in her frail hands. "You don't have to wait, Grandma. We're already married. See? And we're planning the party right now. You'll make it." She pulled out her reading glasses and studied the document carefully. Finally, a warm smile spread across her face. "I knew it. Not that Alyssa girl. Viola... Viola. What a beautiful name." I gave her an affectionate, exasperated look before stepping out of the room. Viola was waiting for me in the hallway, but she wasn't alone. She seemed to be in the middle of a tense confrontation. As I drew closer, I realized the people she was arguing with were Alyssa and Chase. I didn't know what had started it, but Alyssa’s voice cut through the quiet corridor, making my chest tighten painfully. "My boyfriend made a mistake, okay? I already apologized on his behalf. But for a woman who looks as refined as you, you sure are acting like a classless, shameless brat!" "My boyfriend." The words echoed in my ears. To her, Chase was her boyfriend. So what was I? Just a placeholder? A convenience? "If you make a mess, you clean it up," Viola replied, her voice cool and lethal. "If everyone had your twisted logic, we wouldn't need laws. Being injured doesn't give him a free pass to act like an animal." Alyssa and Chase stood there, completely outmatched. Right then, Alyssa spotted me walking toward them.
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