Emma, Ive changed my mind about marrying you. My ex has proposed again, hes got a better future, she said, her voice flat, on the very morning of our wedding.
Emma, we need to talk, I called out, standing in the doorway of the grooms suite. She was stunning in her white dress, yet her expression was oddly resolute.
I lifted my head, surprised. I had just finished tying my bow tie and was about to step out. The ceremony was only half an hour away.
Emma, you cant be looking at the groom before the ceremony, I chuckled. Its a bad omen, you know.
What omen now? she replied, stepping forward and pulling the door shut behind her. The love Id always seen in her eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and foreign. I have something to tell you.
A knot tightened in my chest. Id known Emma for four years and could read every inflection, every glance. Id never seen her look like this.
Whats happened? I asked, even though my gut was already warning me that the news wouldnt be good.
She inhaled deeply, as if preparing to plunge into ice water.
Ive changed my mind, she said evenly. My exboyfriend proposed again. Hes got a better future.
I stared at her, stunned, unable to believe my ears. Outside the hotel, the June sun shone over London, guests were gathering downstairs, bridesmaids were laughing, music drifted up from the ballroom. Inside that tiny room, my world collapsed.
Youre joking? I managed to get out.
No, she whispered, lowering her eyes. I know this is terrible timing, but its better now than to suffer forever later.
Suffer? Anger rose in me like a tide. You were going to suffer with me? All these four years were what? Waiting for something better?
Emma winced as if shed just gotten a tooth pulled.
Dont simplify it. Things were good with you, truly. But James hes always been special to me. You knew that from the start.
I did. When wed first met at a mutual friends birthday, Emma had just split from James Hartley, a successful restaurateur who owned a chain of eateries. Their twoyear romance had ended abruptly when James moved to the United States to expand his business, leaving Emma heartbroken.
I had patiently helped her pick up the pieces, month after month, never rushing, never pressuringjust being there, reliable, understanding, loving. Eventually, she seemed to return my feelings. At least thats how I imagined it.
Did he come back? I asked, trying to collect my thoughts. When?
A month ago, she answered quietly. He called while I was away on a work trip to Manchester.
And you decided just like that? In a month?
It wasnt simple, she said, her eyes flashing with determination. I fought with myself, honestly. But when he proposed Kevin, you have to understand. Hes launching a restaurant holding company across Europe. Ill have my own cosmetics line. Its a completely different life.
I stared at the woman I had called the love of my life that morningbeautiful, smart, ambitious Emma. She ran a boutique salon and dreamed of her own business. Id supported those dreams, even though I was just an engineer earning a decent, if not spectacular, salary.
What about our plans? I asked. The house we talked about? Children?
Ill have other plans, she said, stepping toward the door. I must go. James is waiting downstairs.
Here? I couldnt believe it. Hes arrived on our wedding day?
I asked him to come, Emma said, already gripping the door handle. I didnt want to be alone after this conversation.
What about the guests? The parents? My mother travelled from Brighton just to see us
Ill explain to everyone, she interrupted. Ill say its my fault, that it was 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, she whispered, eyes downcast. Im sorry this happened.
She slipped out, the door closing softly behind her.
I stood in the middle of the room, stunned, crushed, unable to process what was happening. The clock on the wall read fifteen minutes to the ceremony. Downstairs, guests were waiting, music was playing, everything was set for a celebration that would never take place.
I sank onto the bed, loosening my bow tie. My mind churned with fragments: why? How could she? What now? How could I face all those people?
The door opened again, this time without a knock. Harry, my best man and longtime friend, stepped in.
Kevin, whats going on? he looked bewildered. Emma just walked through the hall in her wedding dress, in tears, with some man. They got into a black Mercedes and left. What the
Shes not marrying me, I said dryly. Her ex is back, and hes more promising, you see.
Harrys mouth opened, closed, and opened again.
Bloody hell on your wedding day? Seriously?
Its more than that, I replied, pacing. We have to tell the guests. Cancel everything.
Ill help, Harry said, putting a hand on my shoulder. How are you holding up?
Honestly? I feel like Im dreaming, I admitted. Its like a nightmare.
Going to the guests was the hardest thing Id ever doneannouncing that the wedding was off, fielding sympathetic looks, whispered comments, endless questions. Emmas parents looked as shocked as I did; they hadnt been told anything. My own mother, whod travelled from a small town in Kent, wept and kept asking, How could this happen, son?
That evening, after everyone had left and the paidfor banquet sat untouched, I sat alone in the suite, staring at a blank wall. My phone buzzed nonstopfriends, colleagues, relativesall trying to reach me. I ignored them.
Here, Harry said, sliding a glass of whisky across the nightstand. Drink. Itll help.
I took the glass, feeling the burn down my throat, but the relief was fleeting.
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 told myself it would pass.
First loves stick, Harry replied. But to dump someone on the wedding day thats beyond the pale.
She always loved grand gestures, I muttered, a bitter smile playing on my lips. Remember how we met?
At Lucys birthday, Harry said. She was sitting there all gloomy in a black dress, still mourning James.
And I walked over and said?
Maybe black isnt your colour? Harry finished. I gave her that silly daisy from a pot.
She smiled for the first time that night, I recalled, closing my eyes. She said she finally felt life moving forward.
And now shes left you for the same bloke she mourned, Harry shook his head. Lifes a righthanded joker.
The night passed without sleep. Lying there, I replayed the past four yearsthe happy moments, the fights, the reconciliations, the future plans. Was any of it a lie? Did she truly love me until James reappeared?
In the morning I went back to the flat wed shared to collect my things. The moment I turned the key, emptiness hit me. Emmas favourite trinkets were gone, the framed photos cleared from the shelves, the bath products vanished.
On the kitchen table lay an envelope. Inside was a note and the spare key to the flat.
Kevin, Im sorry for everything. Youre a good man and deserve happiness. I have to go my own way. Ill collect my things later. M.
Brief. Dry. No explanations, no remorse. As if four years could be crossed out with a single slip of paper.
I sank onto the sofa wed once chosen together after a long debate about colour. Emma had insisted on beigepractical. I wanted navy, bold. A navy sofa is for a bachelor, shed teased. Were a family, Id replied.
Family the word now burned like a brand.
Later that day I packed my belongings and moved into Harrys flat. I took a weeks leave from work; my boss, understanding the situation, granted it. I felt numb, trapped in a fog that friends and family couldnt pull me from.
A week later, Lucy called.
Kevin, can we meet? she sounded tense. We need to talk.
We met at a small café near Harrys house. Lucy looked both embarrassed and determined.
You know Ive known Emma since university, she began. Im sorry to intrude, but theres something you should hear.
What about her and James? I asked, a bitter smile forming. Thanks, but I dont need more details.
Its not about them, Lucy said, leaning forward. Its about you. I overheard Emma and James talking before the wedding. They were discussing you.
What did they say? I asked, uneasy.
James asked why she ever agreed to marry me, Lucy paused. She answered, Hes reliable, steady, predictable. With him its safe, but boring.
The word boring hit me harder than any betrayal.
Then James said, But hes just a simple engineer. Whats there to love? And Emma replied, He loves me truly, cares for me. With him I feel like Im leaning against a stone wall. James laughed and said, A stone wall is solid, but living inside it feels like being sealed in.
I sat, coffee growing cold, as a storm of emotions roiled insideanger, hurt, shame. The accusation of being boring cut deeper than any hurtful act.
Why tell me this? I asked.
Because its not true, Kevin, Lucy said, meeting my gaze. Youre not boring. Youre thoughtful, witty, with a great sense of humour. With Emma you simply faded, became a shadow, afraid to make a bold move, fearing shed look elsewhere.
I reflected on how often Id compromised, how Id adjusted my schedule to hers, abandoned a mountainclimbing trip because she feared for me, stopped seeing certain friends she didnt like. It all made sense now.
Why didnt you say this before? I asked softly.
Would you have listened? Lucy shook her head. You idolised her, saw her as a goddess. You thought she was perfect.
Are you saying youre just feeling sorry for me? I asked.
No, she replied firmly. I want you to know its not you. Its her endless chase for something brighter, flashier. James is a fireworks displaybrilliant, loud, then fizzle out.
After that conversation something shifted. I snapped out of the stupor, returned to work, found a new flat, started jogging each morninga habit Id dropped because Emma disliked me being out early.
The ache gradually dulled. Occasionally Id wake in the night feeling a hollow, still catching myself thinking, I should tell Emma but life kept moving.
Three months later I saw her in a department store, standing before a jewellery display, admiring rings. She was still as striking, confident, radiant as ever.
Hello, I said, approaching.
She startled, turning. A flood of emotions crossed her facesurprise, embarrassment, something harder to read.
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, looking away.
Yes, James and I are getting engaged next month.
Congratulations, I said, surprised at how genuine it sounded. I hope it all goes through this time.
Kevin, she started, biting her lip. I know it hurts. Im really sorry
No need, I raised a hand to stop her. Everythings been said. I just wanted to thank you. I paused, choosing my words. Thank you for leaving. If you hadnt, Id have kept living someone elses life, losing myself.
She looked puzzled.
For what its worth, I was happy with you, but it was a happiness that required me to give up parts of who I ammy wishes, my interests, my principles. I became the convenient, easy option. I was quieter, smaller, less daring.
Silence hung between us. Then she asked, Did you feel lost too?
Not really, I replied with a grin. You always knew what you wanted and chased it.
Another pause. She whispered, Maybe I was wrong maybe I shouldnt have
Stop, I interjected. Dont. You made the choice that felt right for you, and I respected it. Theres no turning back.
Why? her voice trembled. If we both made a mistake
Because I no longer want to be the backup plan, I said firmly. I dont want to sit and wonder whether youll look elsewhere for something brighter, more prosperous.
She said softly, Youve changed.
Yes, I agreed. And thats probably the only positive outcome of this whole mess. Thank you for the call, Emma, but please dont call again.
I hung up, inhaled deeply. A strange mix of sorrow and relief settled inside. One chapter closed; another lay ahead, and I would write it myself.
Six months later, on a crisp December afternoon, I stood on the viewing platform of a ski resort in the Lake District. I had finally fulfilled a childhood dreamlearning to ski. The sun glittered on the powdery slope, and I felt pure happiness.
Beautiful, isnt it? a voice said beside me.
I turned to see a woman in a bright blue ski jacket, her brown eyes sparkling with gold flecks.
Very, I replied, smiling. First time here?
Its my third, she said, removing a glove and extending her hand. Anna.
Kevin, I shook it. Youre a pro then?
More like a stubborn enthusiast, she laughed. I fall a lot but always get back up. And you?
Im a beginner, finally ticking off an old wish, I said, watching skiers whizzing past. Life has a habit of putting things off, thinking maybe later. Then you realise if you dont act now, it may never happen.
Philosopher, she mused, tilting her head. I like people who think about life.
And I like people who can fall and rise again, I answered. Fancy tackling this slope together? I promise Ill look graceful when I tumble.
Deal, Anna giggled, her laughter echoing over the snowclad hills. First one to the café at the bottom buys mulled wine!
She shot down the hill, and I followed, feeling my heart swell with a clean, unburdened joy. For the first time in ages I was completely, utterly myself. That feeling was worth every loss and heartbreak.
Sometimes you have to lose something precious to discover whats truly pricelessyour own self.
