James, we need to talk, Poppy says, standing in the doorway of the grooms suite. She looks stunning in her wedding dress, but her expression is oddly resolute.
James lifts his head, surprised. He has just finished tying his bow tie and is about to step out. There are only thirty minutes left before the ceremony.
Poppy, you cant see the groom before the wedding, he jokes with a grin. Bad luck, you know.
Bad luck is the least of it, Poppy replies, stepping forward and closing the door tightly behind her. The love she usually shows in her eyes now feels cold and foreign. I have something to tell you.
A knot tightens in Jamess chest. He has known Poppy for four years, learning to read every tone and glance. He has never seen her like this before.
Whats wrong? he asks, though his intuition already screams that the answer wont be pleasant.
Poppy draws a deep breath, as if preparing to plunge into icy water.
Ive changed my mind about marrying you, she says evenly. My ex has proposed to me. Hes more promising.
James stares at her, unable to process the words. Outside the hotel window, the June sun shines over London. Downstairs, guests are gathering, bridesmaids are laughing, music plays. In this small room, his world collapses.
Youre joking? he manages to gasp.
No. Im sorry, she lowers her eyes. I know this is terrible timing, but its better now than to suffer forever later.
Suffer? James feels anger bubbling up. You were going to suffer with me? All these four years were what? Waiting for something better?
Poppy winces as if she has a toothache.
Dont simplify it. It was good with you, really. But Oliver hes always been special to me. You knew that from the start.
James remembers how they met at a mutual friends birthday party. At that time Poppy had just broken up with Oliver Blake, a successful restaurateur who owned a chain of eateries. Their twoyear romance ended abruptly when Oliver moved to the United States to expand his business, leaving Poppy heartbroken.
James patiently helped mend her broken heart, month after month, never pushing, just being therereliable, understanding, loving. Eventually, Poppy seemed to return his feelings, or so he thought.
Did he come back? James asks, trying to collect his thoughts. When?
A month ago, Poppy replies quietly. He called when you were on a work trip to Manchester.
And you decided just like that? In a month?
It wasnt easy, she says, eyes flashing with resolve. I fought with myself, but when he proposed James, you have to understand. Hes launching a European restaurant holding. Ill have my own cosmetics line. Its a completely different life.
James watches the woman he still believes is the love of his life. Beautiful, smart, ambitious Poppy works as a manager in a beauty salon and dreams of her own business. He has supported her, even though he is just a modest engineer with a decent, but unremarkable, salary.
What about our plans? he asks. The house we talked about? Kids?
I have other plans now, she steps back toward the door. I need to go. Oliver is waiting downstairs.
Here? James cant believe it. Hes come back on our wedding day?
I asked him to come, Poppy grabs the door handle. I didnt want to be alone after this conversation.
What about the guests? The parents? My mum travelled from a neighbouring town to see us
Ill explain to everyone, she cuts in. Ill say its my fault, that its a sudden decision.
Its sudden! James raises his voice. Yesterday you told me you loved me! This morning you kissed me and promised happiness!
I was wrong, Poppy lowers her eyes. Im sorry this happened.
She leaves, gently closing the door behind her.
James stands in the middle of the room, stunned, crushed, unable to grasp whats happening. The clock on the wall reads fifteen minutes to the ceremony. Somewhere below, guests await, music plays, everything is set for a celebration that will never occur.
He collapses onto the bed, loosening his bow tie. Fragments of thoughts whirl in his head: why? How could she? What now? How will he face the crowd?
The door swings open without a knock. Michael, his best man and closest friend, steps in.
James, whats going on? Michael looks bewildered. Poppy just walked down the hall in her dress, crying, with a man. They got into a black Mercedes and left. What the
Shes not marrying me, James says flatly. Her ex is back. Hes more promising, you see.
Michael opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again.
Bloody hell on the wedding day? he finally exhales. Seriously?
More than that, James stands, pacing. We have to tell the guests. Cancel everything.
Ill help, Michael puts a hand on his shoulder. How are you holding up?
I dont know, James admits. It feels like a nightmare.
Going out to the guests becomes the hardest thing hes ever done. Announcing that the wedding is off, enduring sympathetic looks, whispered gossip, endless questions. Poppys parents look as shocked as he doesclearly she never told them her plan. His own mother, who travelled from Bristol, weeps, repeating, How could this happen, love?
That evening, after everyone leaves and the paid banquet sits untouched, James sits in the empty suite, staring at a point on the wall. His phone buzzes with calls and messagesfrom friends, colleagues, relativesbut he doesnt answer.
Here, Michael, who has stayed, hands him a glass of whisky. Drink. It might help.
James takes the glass silently, takes a sip. The burn in his throat offers no relief.
Whats the worst part? he says after a long silence. I always felt she never fully belonged to me. Somewhere deep down she kept his memory. I hoped it would fade.
It happens, Michael says, sitting opposite. First love, all that. But ditching someone on the wedding day thats beyond the pale.
She always liked grand gestures, James says bitterly. Remember how we met?
At Sophies birthday, Michael nods. She was sitting there looking miserable in a black dress, mourning an ex.
And I walked over and said?
Maybe black isnt your colour? Michael finishes. I gave her a silly daisy from a pot.
And she smiled for the first time that night, James recalls, closing his eyes. She said life goes on.
And now she leaves you for the same guy she once mourned, Michael shakes his head. Lifes a cruel joker.
The night passes without sleep. James lies awake, replaying four yearshappy moments, fights, reconciliations, future plans. Was it all a lie? Or did she truly love him until Oliver reappeared?
In the morning he returns to their rented flat to pack. He unlocks the door and feels an emptiness. Poppy has already cleared out her favourite trinkets, photos, bathroom cosmetics.
On the table lies an envelope. Inside is a note and the key to the flat.
James, sorry for everything. Youre a good man and deserve happiness. I have to go my own way. Ill collect my things later. P.
Brief, dry, no explanations, as if four years can be crossed out with a piece of paper.
James sinks onto the sofa they once chose together, arguing over colourher choice beige, his blue. A blue sofa screams bachelorhood, she once said. Were a family, he replied.
Familynow a word that burns.
He gathers his belongings and moves in with Michael, who offers him a spare room while he gets his life back on track. He takes a leave from work; his boss, understanding the situation, grants him time off. He feels a strange numbness that friends and family cant shake off.
A week later, Sarah, the friend he met at the birthday where he first saw Poppy, calls.
James, can we meet? I need to talk, she says, her voice tense.
They meet at a small café near Michaels flat. Sarah looks both embarrassed and determined.
Ive known Poppy since university, she begins. I feel awkward getting involved, but you should know something.
What about her and Oliver? James smiles wryly. Thanks, but Im fine.
Its about you, Sarah says, leaning forward. I overheard a conversation between Poppy and Oliver before the wedding. They talked about you.
And what did they say? James asks, uncertain if he wants to hear.
Oliver asked why she ever agreed to marry you, Sarah pauses. She replied, Because youre reliable, predictable, and safe. Then Oliver laughed, saying, But hes just a plain engineer. She said, He loves me genuinely, protects me like a stone wall. Oliver smirked, A stone wall is solid, but living inside it feels like being sealed in.
James feels a tightening inside. Boring. That word hits harder than any other wound.
Why tell me this? he asks.
Because its not true, James, Sarah looks him straight in the eye. Youre not boring. Youre interesting, thoughtful, with great humor. With Poppy, you just faded, became a shadow, afraid to step out of line.
He remembers constantly compromising, scheduling his life around hers, turning down a mountain trip because she feared for him, dropping friends she didnt like.
Why didnt you say this earlier? he asks quietly.
Would you have listened? Sarah shakes her head. You idolised her, saw her as a goddess. She was perfect to you.
Are you saying youre saying this because you feel sorry for me? he asks.
No, she says, meeting his gaze. Because I want you to know its not you. Its her endless chase for something flashier. Oliver is a fireworks displaybright, loud, impressive, then it fizzles out.
After that conversation, James feels a shift. He shakes off the paralysis, returns to work, finds a new flat, starts running each morningsomething he had abandoned because Poppy disliked early rises.
The pain dulls over time. He still wakes at night with a hollow feeling, still catches himself thinking, I should tell Poppy, when something interesting happens. But life moves on.
Three months later he spots her in a shopping centre, standing by a jewellery window, looking at rings. Shes still as striking, confident, radiant.
Hello, he says, approaching.
Poppy startles, turns, a flash of surprise, embarrassment, and something indefinable crosses her face.
James hi, she forces a smile. How are you?
Better than three months ago, he answers honestly. Youre still looking at rings?
She blushes, looks away. Yes, Oliver and I are getting married next month.
Congratulations, he says, surprisingly sincere. Hope it goes through this time.
James, she bites her lip. I know it hurts. Im really sorry
No need, he raises a hand, stopping her. Everythings said. I just wanted to thank you. He pauses, searching for words. For leaving. If you hadnt, Id still be living someone elses life, losing myself.
I dont get it, she says, confused.
Thats irrelevant, he smiles. Goodbye, Poppy. Be happy.
He walks away feeling a lightness he hasnt felt in years, as if a heavy burden has finally lifted.
Later that day his phone rings. The caller ID shows Poppys number.
Hello? he answers, curiosity outweighing anger.
James, can we talk? her voice sounds unsteady.
We talked today, he reminds her.
No, seriously. I cant stop thinking about what you saidabout a life that isnt yours, about losing yourself.
Whats there to think about? he shrugs. I meant exactly that.
Did you think I was unhappy with me? she asks, a hint of hurt in her tone.
No, he replies honestly. I was happy, but it was happiness built on giving up parts of myselfmy desires, my interests, my principles. I became the convenient, predictable option. I shrank, quieted, became easier.
Silence hangs. Then she asks, Did I lose myself with you too?
I dont think so, he smiles. Youve always known what you wanted and chased it.
Another pause. Finally, James, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I shouldnt have
Stop, he cuts in. Dont. You made the choice you thought was right. I accept it. Theres no turning back.
Why? she sighs, tears audible. If we both made mistakes
Because I no longer want to be the backup plan, he says firmly. I dont want to wonder if youre looking for something brighter, more promising.
Youve changed, she observes.
Yes, he agrees. And thats probably the only positive outcome of our story. Thank you for calling, Poppy, but please, dont call again.
He hangs up, takes a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of sorrow and relief. One chapter ends, another begins, and he will decide how it unfolds.
Six months later, on a crisp December day, James stands on the viewing platform of a ski resort he finally visited after years of dreaming. He has just learned to ski. The sun sparkles on the powdery slope, and he feels pure joy.
Beautiful, isnt it? a voice says beside him.
He turns and sees a woman in a bright blue ski jacket, her brown eyes glittering with gold flecks.
Very, James replies, smiling. First time here?
Third, she takes off a glove, extends her hand. Anna.
James, he shakes it. Youre already a pro?
More like a stubborn hobbyist, she laughs. I fall a lot, but I always get back up. And you?
Just a beginner, fulfilling a longheld dream, he says, looking down the slope where other skiers weave. You know, life is full of things we postpone, thinking someday. Then we realise, if we dont act now, it might never happen.
Philosopher, Anna tilts her head. I like people who think about life.
And I like people who can fall and get back up, he answers. Want to tackle this run together? I promise an elegant tumble.
Deal, she giggles, her laugh echoing off the snowy mountains. First one to the café at the bottom buys mulled wine!
She darts down, and he follows, his heart swelling with unfiltered happiness. For the first time in a long while, he feels completely, genuinely himself. That feeling is worth every loss and heartbreak he endured.
Sometimes you have to lose something precious to discover something pricelessyour own self.
