Emma, Ive changed my mind about marrying you. My ex has proposed again hes got a better future, the bride announced on her wedding day.
Kevin, we need to talk, Emma said, standing in the doorway of the grooms suite. She looked stunning in her white dress, yet her face held a strange, resolute expression.
I lifted my head in surprise. I had just finished tying my bow tie and was about to step out. There were only thirty minutes left until the ceremony.
Emma, whats this? Its bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding, I chuckled. Superstitious nonsense.
What superstition now she stepped forward, closing the door firmly behind her. The eyes that usually looked at me with love now seemed cold and alien. I have something to tell you.
I felt a knot tighten inside. Id known Emma for four years and could read every inflection and glance. Id never seen her look, or hear her tone, like this.
Whats happened? I asked, though my gut was already screaming that it wouldnt be good.
Emma inhaled deeply, as if preparing to plunge into ice water.
Ive changed my mind about marrying you, she said evenly. My exboyfriend has proposed again. Hes got more prospects.
I stared at her, stunned, unable to believe my ears. Outside the hotel where wed booked rooms for the wedding prep, the June sun was shining. Downstairs the guests were gathering, the bridesmaids were laughing, music was playing. In this little room, my world was collapsing.
Youre joking? I finally managed.
No. Im sorry, she lowered her eyes. I know this is awful timing, but its better now than to suffer later.
Suffer? A hot rush of anger rose inside me. You were going to suffer with me? All these four years were what? Waiting for something better?
Emma winced as if she had a toothache.
Dont simplify it. We had good times, truly. But James hes always been special to me. You knew that from the start.
I did. When we first met at a mutual friends birthday, Emma had just broken up with James Hart, a successful entrepreneur who owned a chain of restaurants. Their twoyear romance ended abruptly when he moved to the United States to expand his business, leaving Emma heartbroken.
I had patiently gathered the pieces of her broken heart, month after month. I never rushed or pressured her. I was simply there reliable, understanding, caring. One day Emma finally returned my feelings, or at least thats how I thought it was.
Did he come back? I asked, trying to collect my thoughts. When?
A month ago, Emma replied quietly. He called while I was on a work trip to Manchester.
And you decided like that? In a month?
It wasnt easy, she raised her eyes, resolute. I fought with myself, honestly. But when he proposed Kevin, you have to understand. Hes launching a restaurant holding in Europe. Ill have my own cosmetics line. Its a completely different life.
I stared at the woman I had this morning believed to be the love of my life. Beautiful, intelligent, ambitious Emma. She worked as a manager in a beauty salon, dreaming of her own business. I supported her dreams, even though I was just an engineer with a decent but unremarkable salary.
What about our plans? I asked. The house we talked about? Children?
Ill have different plans, she stepped back toward the door. I must go. James is waiting downstairs.
At here? I could barely believe it. He showed up on our wedding day?
I asked him to come, Emma was already pulling the handle. I didnt want to be alone after this conversation.
And the guests? The parents? My mum drove from Brighton just to see us
Ill explain everything, she cut in. Ill say its my fault, a sudden decision.
Its sudden! I raised my voice. Yesterday you told me you loved me! This morning you kissed me and promised happiness!
I was wrong, Emma lowered her gaze. Im sorry it turned out like this.
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
I stood alone in the room, stunned, crushed, unable to grasp what was happening. The clock on the wall read fifteen minutes to the ceremony. Somewhere downstairs the guests waited, the music played, everything was set for a celebration that would never happen.
I sank onto the bed, loosening my bow tie. Thoughts swirled in my head. Why? How could she? What now? How could I face everyone?
The door opened again, this time without a knock. Ian, my best man and oldest friend, stepped in.
Kevin, whats going on? he looked bewildered. Emma just walked through the ballroom in her dress, crying. She got into a black Mercedes with a man and drove off. What the?
Shes not marrying me, I said dryly. Her ex is back. Hes more promising, you see.
Ian opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again.
Bloody hell on your wedding day? Seriously?
More than seriously, I stood, pacing. We need to tell the guests. Cancel everything.
Ill help, Ian placed a hand on my shoulder. How are you holding up?
I dont know, I admitted. Feels like Im stuck in a nightmare.
Going out to the reception was the hardest thing Id ever done. I had to announce that the wedding was cancelled, endure sympathetic looks, whispered gossip, endless questions. Emmas parents looked as shocked as I felt clearly they hadnt been told about her plans. My own mother, who had driven up from Surrey, wept and kept asking, How could this happen, love?
When the evening finally ended and the prepaid banquet sat untouched, I remained in the hotel room, staring at the wall. My phone buzzed nonstop friends, colleagues, family I didnt answer anyone.
Here, Ian, who had stayed with me, handed me a glass of whisky. Drink. Itll take the edge off.
I took the glass, sipped. The burn in my throat did little to ease the pain.
You know whats the worst part? I said after a long silence. I always felt she wasnt fully mine. That somewhere deep down she still held Jamess image. I hoped time would wash it away.
First loves stick, mate, Ian replied, sitting opposite me. But to ditch her on the day shes supposed to say I do thats beyond the pale.
She always loved grand gestures, I said bitterly. Remember how we met?
At Sophies birthday, Ian nodded. She was sitting there, looking gloomy in a black dress, mourning James.
And I walked over and said
Maybe black isnt your colour? Ian finished, laughing. I gave her that ridiculous daisy from a pot.
She smiled for the first time that night, I recalled, closing my eyes. She told me then that life goes on.
And now shes left you for the same bloke she mourned, Ian shook his head. Lifes a cruel joker.
The night passed without sleep. I lay on the bed, replaying the past four years happy moments, arguments, reconciliations, future plans. Was it all a lie? Or did she truly love me until James reappeared?
In the morning I returned to our rented flat to pack. The moment I turned the key, the emptiness hit me. Emma had already taken the little figurines from the shelves, the framed photos, even the cosmetics from the bathroom.
On the kitchen table lay an envelope. Inside was a note and the spare key.
Kevin, Im sorry for everything. Youre a good man and deserve happiness. I have to follow my own path. Ill collect my things later. Emma
Brief, dry, no explanations, no remorse. As if four years could be crossed out with a single slip of paper.
I slumped onto the sofa wed chosen together after countless debates about colour. Emma had insisted on a practical beige; Id wanted a bold navy. A navy sofa is for a bachelor, shed said then. Were a family, Id replied.
Family the word now scorched my mind.
Later that day I moved my belongings to Ians flat, where he offered me a place until I could get back on my feet. My boss at the engineering firm, after hearing what happened, granted me a weeks leave. I fell into a numbness that no friend or relative could shake.
A week later Sophie, the friend from the birthday where Id first met Emma, called.
Kevin, can we meet? I need to talk.
We met at a small café near Ians house. Sophie looked nervous but determined.
You know Ive known Emma since university, she began. I feel awkward getting involved, but you should know something.
What about her and James? I asked, a bitter smile on my lips. Thanks, but I dont need more details.
Its not about them, she pressed. Its about you. She took a breath. I overheard Emma talking to James before the wedding. He asked why shed agree to marry me. She said, Youre reliable, safe, predictable. With you I feel like Im behind a stone wall. He laughed and replied, A stone wall is sturdy, but living inside it feels like being trapped. She agreed.
My stomach clenched. Predictable, boring. The word hit harder than any betrayal.
Why tell me? I asked.
Because it isnt true, Kevin, she said, looking straight at me. Youre not boring. Youre thoughtful, funny, deep. With Emma you just faded, became a shadow, afraid to take a step that might scare her off.
I thought of all the times Id compromised my plans, cancelled trips to the hills because Emma feared for me, stopped seeing friends she disliked.
Why didnt you say this sooner? I asked.
Would I have been heard? Sophie shook her head. You idolised her, Kevin. She was your goddess. Its only now you see the truth.
Are you saying youre sorry for me? I asked.
Not sorry for you, but I wanted you to know it wasnt you. Its her chasing flashier, louder things. James is a fireworks display bright, loud, impressive, then it fizzles out.
After that conversation something shifted. I shook off the paralysis, went back to work, found a new flat, started jogging each morning a habit Id given up because Emma disliked me getting up at dawn.
The ache dulled over time. I still woke at night with a hollow feeling, still caught myself thinking, I should tell Emma but life moved on.
Three months later I saw her in a shopping centre, standing before a jewellery window, eyeing rings. She was still as beautiful, confident, radiant.
Hello, I said, approaching.
She flinched, turned, her face a mix of surprise, embarrassment, something indefinable.
Kevin hi, she managed, forcing a smile. How are you?
Better than three months ago, I replied honestly. Still looking at rings, I see?
She blushed, looked away.
Yes, James and I are getting married next month.
Congratulations, I said, genuinely. I hope this time it actually happens.
Kevin, she swallowed. I know youre hurt. Im really sorry
No need, I raised a hand to stop her. Everythings said. I just wanted to thank you. I hesitated, searching for words. For leaving. If you hadnt, Id still be living someone elses life, losing myself.
She frowned.
Its not necessary, I smiled. Goodbye, Emma. Be happy.
I walked away feeling a strange lightness, as if a weight years old had lifted.
Later that afternoon my phone rang. Emmas number flashed on the screen.
Hello? I answered, curiosity, not anger, in my voice.
Kevin, can we talk? Emmas voice sounded unsteady.
We already spoke today, I reminded her.
No, seriously. I cant stop thinking about what you said about losing myself.
Whats there to think about? I shrugged, though she couldnt see me. I meant exactly what I said.
Were you unhappy with me? there was a hint of hurt in her tone.
No, I answered honestly. I was happy, but it was happiness built on giving up parts of myself my desires, my principles. I became the person you wanted, not who I am. I shrank, grew quiet, became convenient.
A silence stretched. Then she asked quietly,
Did I lose myself with you too?
I dont think so, I said with a wry grin. Youve always known what you want and chased it.
Silence again, then she said,
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldnt have?
Stop, I cut in. Dont. You made the choice you felt was right. Ive accepted it. Theres no turning back.
Why? she whispered, tears evident. If we both made a mistake
Because I no longer want to be a spare runway, I said firmly. I wont be the backup for anyones brighter future.
Youve changed, she observed after a pause.
Yes, I agreed. And thats probably the only positive outcome of our story. Thanks for the call, Emma, but please, dont call again.
I hung up, inhaled deeply. A mix of sorrow and relief washed over me. One chapter closed, another awaited, and I would write it myself.
Six months later, on a crisp December day, I stood on the observation deck of a ski resort in the Lake District. I had finally fulfilled my longheld dream of learning to ski. The sun glittered on the powdery slope, and I felt pure joy.
Beautiful, isnt it? a voice said beside me.
I turned to see a young woman in a bright blue ski jacket, her brown eyes sparkling with flecks of gold.
Very, I replied, smiling. First time here?
Third, she laughed, taking off her glove and holding out her hand. Anna.
Kevin, I shook it. So youre a pro?
More a stubborn enthusiast, she grinned. I fall a lot but I always get up. You?
Just a beginner, finally living a dream, I said, looking at the slope where skiers glided. You know, there are things you keep putting off, thinking someday. Then you realise, if you dont do it now, it might never happen.
Philosopher, she teased, tilting her head. I like people who think about life.
And I like people who know how to fall and get back up, I answered. Want to tackle this run together? I promise a graceful tumble.
Deal, Anna laughed, her voice echoing off the snowy hills. First one to the café at the bottom buys mulled wine!
She shot down the slope, I followed, feeling my heart fill with unfiltered happiness. For the first time in ages I was completely, unapologetically myself. And that feeling was worth all the loss and heartache.
Sometimes you have to lose something precious to rediscover something priceless yourself.
