Chapter 1 After Isabelle postponed our wedding for the tenth time, I was done. When my best friend’s second kid had his baptism, I sent a gift but didn't go. When my buddies planned a camping trip, I found out she was invited, so I backed out. When my boss tried to "outsource" me to her firm to manage a project, I quit. Even when her parents came to my apartment to plead her case, I didn't answer the door. I scrubbed every photo of her from my cloud. Blocked her number, deleted her contact. I deactivated the shared social media account we’d used to post our "journey." We’d known each other for twenty-five years. We’d been in love for five. I thought we were inevitable. But after ten canceled weddings, I finally got the message. You can't love someone else until you love yourself. "Alex, I'm so sorry, I’m on my way. I'm almost there, just wait for me." Isabelle hung up before I could say a word. I turned to the hotel coordinator, my face burning. "My fiancée, she's almost here. Can we just... can we have a few more minutes? We can run the rehearsal really fast." The coordinator gave me that tight, professional smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vance. Your reservation for the ballroom expired ten minutes ago. The next couple is already waiting for their rehearsal. We have to clear the space." I looked past him. The next couple was standing right there, arms crossed, looking furious. I forced a smile. "No, you're right. My apologies. I'll get our things." The wedding planner followed me out. "Mr. Vance, same as the last nine times... even though the rehearsal didn't happen, the deposit is non-refundable." I managed a bitter laugh. "I know. It's fine. I'm the one who wasted your time." This was the most exclusive wedding planning firm in New York. Their schedule was booked a year out. I'd paid double the deposit just to keep them on retainer for this revolving door of failure. "You're a valued client, Mr. Vance," he said, which only made me feel worse. "Just text me when you're ready to schedule the eleventh." I almost ran out of the hotel. This was, officially, the tenth time Isabelle had missed our wedding rehearsal. The first nine times, she had an excuse: an emergency business trip, a last-minute deadline. And every time, even though the invitations had already been sent, I'd agreed to postpone. This time, I wanted to see the excuse for myself. I leaned against a tree across the street from the hotel. I waited from noon until it was pitch black. She finally pulled up, jogging toward the hotel. "Alex! Oh my god, an emergency all-hands meeting just popped up. I floored it as soon as it ended. We can still do the rehearsal, right?" Her story was full of holes. I glanced down at her outfit—a skin-tight denim skirt and heels. Not exactly "emergency meeting" attire. "It's too late," I said. She grabbed my arm, her pace faltering. "I'm so sorry, baby. It's just... the company is huge. As CEO, I can't just walk out. We can do it next time." I just waited. I knew what was coming next. She winced. "About that... I have to fly to Europe next week. We'll have to... just... push the wedding back. Again." Seeing the look on my face, she went into damage-control mode. "Don't be sad! I promise, the next one will be perfect. I'll even have my assistant find a truly auspicious date." "And look," she said, trying to pull me along. "I ordered you a new suit for this one. It's Armani. You'll look amazing." She always bought me a suit as a consolation prize. My closet was already full of ten of them. I wasn't accepting an eleventh. I pulled out my phone and opened my email. I showed her the order confirmation. "Leo's suit is ready for pickup, too," I said. "Don't forget to remind him." The color drained from her face, but she recovered fast. "The company gala is next week. Leo's my top exec; he worked hard. I bought him a gift." I nodded. Then I opened Instagram. I showed her the post she’d made an hour ago. The one she’d clearly forgotten to hide from me. "And this?" It was a picture of her, clinking champagne glasses with someone, a table loaded with food between them. Her face flushed, but this time with anger. "Alex, are you accusing me of cheating? Fine, I lied. I wasn't at a meeting. I was with a client. Someone has to work! "Not everyone can just be... idle... all day, obsessing over flower arrangements. I lose millions every day I'm not in the office. I'm busy!" I was speechless. I just... I had to laugh. "Idle? Isabelle, we grew up together. We both have family companies. The only reason I'm not CEO of my family's firm right now is because you said you were worried it would 'get in the way of our relationship.' You asked me to take a step back." Her face went from red to white. "Oh, so I'm the one holding you back?" she spat. "Fine! If you're so miserable, then we're done!" I just smiled, turned, and walked away from her. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest. My phone buzzed. It was a text. From Leo. “Mr. Vance, my sincere apologies. I insisted Isabelle try that new French bistro tonight and I’m afraid I made her late for your rehearsal. I’ll be sure to check your schedule before we schedule your eleventh.” The text was a dagger. "Dating" his secretary. And she called it "dinner with a client." Pathetic. Isabelle and I had been inseparable since kindergarten. Our parents were old friends. It was the running joke: "You two are already an old married couple, just make it official." I didn't even know what marriage was, just that it meant she'd be with me forever. I wrote her a "guarantee" on notebook paper, promising I'd marry her. When we got older, our parents would tease me about it. I got so embarrassed I started avoiding her. She found me, crying, demanding to know what she'd done wrong. That’s when I knew. I was in love with her. We got together at twenty. At twenty-five, I proposed. And for the last five years, she’d been postponing the wedding. Leo, her brilliant assistant, had been by her side for the last two. They spent more time together than she and I ever did. I’d always told myself it was just work. I was done lying to myself. My phone rang again. My best friend, Mark. "Alex! Big news! My second kid, Sarah, her baptism is this Saturday. You and Isabelle have to be there." I was about to say I'd come alone, but I remembered Mark's wife, Lily, was Isabelle's best friend. "Did... did Lily already tell Isabelle?" "Yeah, they're on the phone right now. Why? You guys aren't together? You finished the rehearsal and just went home? You're slipping, man." I just sighed. Everyone knew I was whipped. I mumbled that I'd be there and hung up. I went to a wine shop and bought a bottle I'd been saving. I drank it. Alone. I checked the security app for our apartment. A moving crew was there. Isabelle was packing her things. She must have seen the camera light turn on. She called my phone, and I let it go to the app's audio. "What, Alex? Spying on me? Afraid I'm going to steal your stuff?" "Just the opposite," I said, my voice flat. "Just reminding you to take the ten suits you bought me." She hung up. Mark called back. He sounded furious. "She did it again, didn't she? She bailed on the rehearsal. That's it, I'm going to find that prick Leo and..." "Mark, don't," I cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I'm not fighting. I'm... I'm just done." I calmed him down. "It's for the best, man," he said, his voice softening. "I've been wanting to say this for a year. She... she hasn't been present." "Just... don't let this mess things up between you and Lily." "Never," he said. I went home. The apartment was half-empty. It felt... quiet. I found her favorite perfume and a photo album she'd left. I opened the window and threw them into the dumpster. Chapter 2 To avoid Isabelle, I went to Mark and Lily's a day early for the baptism. Mark opened the door, put a finger to his lips, and pulled me into the backyard. Through the window, we could see Isabelle, playing with Mark's older kid. Lily was sitting next to her. "I just... I moved all my stuff out," Isabelle was saying. "I'm just going to give him a little scare. He'll freak out, and he'll never yell at me again. He can't live without me. He just needs to remember his place." She was bragging. Mark looked like he was going to be sick. I just put a hand on his shoulder. Isabelle's phone rang. She smiled, excused herself, and ran out the front door. We ducked behind a hedge. I followed her. Leo was leaning against his car. "I missed you," he said, pulling her into a kiss. "I missed you, too," she murmured. "But I couldn't stand being away today..." "I know," he said, his hand sliding down her back. "Thinking about you, making that idiot postpone his life ten times just for me... it's the biggest turn-on." "You're awful," she laughed, kissing him again. "It was your idea." "And you loved it," he said. "Don't pretend you didn't." Mark physically lunged. I had to tackle him to keep him quiet. We waited until her car was gone. "You're not... you're not going to kill him?" I asked, letting him up. "I'm going to do worse," Mark seethed. The next day, Isabelle called me, right on schedule. "Alex, where are you? You didn't even show up for your best friend's party? You have no class." I knew she was just trying to pick a fight. I said nothing. "I left a bottle of my limited-edition perfume at the apartment," she snapped. "I'm sure you've hidden it somewhere so you can smell it and think of me. I want it back. Now." "Threw it out." I hung up. She texted immediately. “Playing hard to get? Pathetic. Fine! I don't want it! Don't you dare come crawling back to me!” I deleted the text. That night, Mark put in our group chat: “Camping trip next weekend. To celebrate Sarah!” Everyone said yes. I was about to decline, and then I saw Isabelle's text: “Sorry guys, I have to work :(” "I'm in," I texted. Chapter 3 The next weekend, I was at the campsite, grilling skewers. A few of Lily's friends—Isabelle's "entourage"—came over. "So, Alex," one of them sneered. "Valentine's Day is coming. What'd you get Isabelle this time? Another car? Let's see it." They didn't know. They still thought I was the doormat. I just ignored them and fanned the charcoal, sending a thick cloud of smoke right into their faces. They coughed and stumbled away, cussing me out. I was almost done grilling. I was about to put the teriyaki sauce on—Isabelle's favorite—when I remembered. I wasn't her doormat anymore. I went back to the cooler and got the habanero hot sauce. I dumped the whole bottle on. I put the skewers on the table. And, as if summoned, Isabelle appeared. I took off my apron and started walking to my car. "Alex, wait!" one of my friends called. "Isabelle's here! She doesn't drink beer! You have to take her drink!" I didn't even turn around. "I don't drink for strangers." I heard the plastic cup hit the ground.
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