15 June
I never imagined Id be writing this, but today the world I thought Id built collapsed in a way I could never have foreseen. It feels like Im recounting a nightmare, yet every detail is painfully real.
Emily stood in the doorway of the grooms suite, a vision in her wedding dress, but with a hard, decisive look that Id never seen before.
I had just finished adjusting my bow tie, ready to step out, with only half an hour left before the ceremony.
Emily, what are you doing? Its bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the vows, I tried to smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
She took a step forward, the door closing behind her with a soft click. In her eyesusually warm, full of lovethere was now a cold, foreign stare. I need to tell you something.
Something inside me snapped. Wed known each other for four years; I could read her tone, her gestures, her sighs. Id never heard anything like that before.
Whats wrong? I asked, even though my gut was already screaming that this wouldnt end well.
She inhaled deeply, as if preparing to jump into icy water.
Ive changed my mind about marrying you, she said, voice flat. My ex has proposed again. Hes… more promising.
I stared at her, stunned, while outside the hotel windows the June sun drenched the streets of Bath in golden light. The guests were gathering downstairs, the bridesmaids giggling, music playing, and yet in that small room my world crumbled.
Youre joking? I managed to choke out.
No. She lowered her eyes. I know this is awful timing, but its better now than to spend a lifetime regretting it.
Regretting? Anger rose like a wave inside me. You were going to suffer with me? All these four years were what? Waiting for something better?
Emily winced as if she had a toothache.
Dont simplify it. It was good with you, truly. But Oliver hes always been special to me. You knew that from the start.
I remembered how wed met at a mutual friends birthday party. Emily had just split from Oliver Whitaker, a successful restaurateur who owned a chain of eateries. Their twoyear romance ended abruptly when he flew to New York to expand his business, leaving Emily heartbroken.
I had spent months gently piecing together her broken heart, never pushing, just being theresteady, understanding, caring. Eventually, I thought shed finally opened up to me.
Did he come back? I asked, trying to gather my thoughts. When?
About a month ago, she whispered. He called while I was on a work trip to Manchester.
And you decided just like that? In a month?
It wasnt easy, she said, eyes flashing with resolve. I fought with myself. But when he proposed Kevin, you have to understand. Hes launching a restaurant group across Europe. Ill have my own cosmetics line. Its an entirely different life!
I stared at the woman Id called the love of my life that morningbeautiful, bright, ambitious. Emily worked as a manager in a highend salon, dreaming of opening her own. I was just an engineer with a decent, if unremarkable, salary in pounds.
What about our plans? I asked, voice shaking. The house we talked about? Children?
My plans have changed, she said, stepping back toward the door. I have to go. Oliver is waiting downstairs.
Here? I could barely believe it. He showed up on our wedding day?
I asked him to come, Emily said, already gripping the door handle. I didnt want to be alone after this conversation.
What about the guests? My mother drove from Leicester just to be here
Ill explain to everyone, she interrupted. Ill say its my fault, that it was a sudden decision.
Its sudden! I shouted. Yesterday you told me you loved me! This morning you kissed me and promised happiness!
I was wrong, Emily lowered her gaze. Im sorry this happened.
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
I stood in the middle of the room, stunned, crushed, unable to comprehend. The clock on the wall ticked down to fifteen minutes before the ceremony. Somewhere below, the guests waited, music swelled, everything was set for a celebration that would never happen.
I sank onto the bed, loosening my bow tie, thoughts swirling: why? How could she? What now? How do I face all those eyes?
The door opened again, this time without a knock. Ian, my best friend and best man, stepped in, bewildered.
Kevin, whats happening? he asked. Emily just walked through the hall in her dress, crying, with a man. They got into a black Mercedes and left. What the
Shes not marrying me, I said flatly. Her ex is back. Hes more promising, you see.
Ian opened his mouth, closed it, tried again.
Your mother on our wedding day? Seriously? he finally managed, his voice a mix of shock and anger.
More than seriously, I replied, pacing the room. We need to tell the guests. Cancel everything.
Ill help, Ian said, putting a hand on my shoulder. How are you holding up?
Honestly? I feel like Im in a nightmare.
Going out to the guests felt like the hardest test of my life. Announcing the wedding was off, fielding sympathetic looks, whispered conversations, endless questions. Emilys parents looked as stunned as I didclearly she hadnt warned them. My own mother, whod travelled from Bristol, wept, repeatedly asking, How could this happen, love?
That evening, after everyone had left and the paid banquet sat untouched, I sat alone in the suite, phone blowing up with calls and messagesfriends, colleagues, relatives. I answered none.
Ian, who had stayed, handed me a glass of whisky. Take a sip. Itll help.
I took a drink, the burn in my throat offering no relief.
Do 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 onto Olivers memory. I pretended it would fade.
It happens, Ian replied. First loves, that sort of thing. But dumping someone on the wedding day thats beyond the pale.
She always loved grand gestures, I muttered, a bitter smile forming. Remember how we met?
At Sarahs birthday, Ian said, nodding. She was sitting all gloomy in a black dress, mourning a past relationship.
And I walked over and said, Maybe black isnt your colour?
And you gave her that ridiculous potted daisy, Ian laughed.
She finally smiled that night, I said, closing my eyes, recalling the moment. She said life goes on.
And now she left you for the same man she was mourning, Ian shook his head. Life really is a cruel joker.
I lay awake that night, replaying the past four yearshappy moments, fights, reconciliations, future plans. Was any of it a lie? Had she truly loved me until Oliver resurfaced?
In the morning I returned to the flat wed shared to pack my things. The moment I turned the key, the emptiness hit me. Emilys favourite figurines were gone, photos vanished, her cosmetics scattered on the sink.
On the kitchen table lay an envelope with a note and a 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. E.
Brief, dry, no remorse, as if four years could be erased with a single slip of paper.
I collapsed onto the sofa wed argued over for monthsblue versus beige. Shed insisted on beige, practical; I wanted bold blue.
Blue sofas are for single lads, shed joked then. Were a family.
Familynow a word that seared my mind.
That day I moved into Ians flat, taking a few days leave from work. My boss, understanding the situation, granted me the time off. I felt numb, as if I were in a fog from which neither friends nor family could pull me out.
A week later, Sarah, the friend whose birthday party had brought us together, called.
Kevin, can we meet? I need to talk.
We met at a tiny café near Ians house. She looked both embarrassed and determined.
Ive known Emily since university, she began. I hate to intrude, but you should know something.
About her and Oliver? I said dryly. Thanks, but I dont need more details.
Its not about them, she said, leaning in. Its about you. She explained that shed overheard a conversation between Emily and Oliver before the wedding.
What did they say? I asked, my heart already pounding.
Oliver asked why shed ever agreed to marry me. She answered, Sarah said, Youre reliable, safe, predictable. With you its comfortable but boring.
The word boring hit me harder than any blow.
Then Oliver said, A safe engineer is fine, but a stone wall isnt a home. And Emily agreed, laughing.
I felt something tighten inside me. Boring. Safe. Predictable.
Why tell me this? I asked.
Because its not true, Sarah replied, meeting my eyes. Youre not boring. Youre thoughtful, witty, genuine. With Emily you just became a shadow, afraid to step out of line. You stopped seeing friends, gave up trips to the Lake District because she was scared. You let yourself fade.
I remembered the countless compromises, the missed hikes, the cancelled nights out.
Why didnt you say this earlier? I asked, voice low.
Would I have been believed? she shrugged. You were seeing her as a goddess, Kevin. She was perfect to you.
Are you saying you regret sharing this?
No, she said. Im saying you deserve to know that the problem isnt you. Its her endless chase for something flashier, brighter. Oliver is a fireworks displaybright, loud, spectacular, then dies out.
After that conversation something shifted. I emerged from my stupor, went back to work, found a new flat, started running each morningsomething Id given up because Emily disliked early rises.
The pain dulled over time. I still woke up sometimes in the night feeling a hollow ache, still caught myself thinking, I should tell Emily, but life moved on.
Three months later, I saw her in a shopping centre, staring at jewellery in a display window. She was still the same striking, confident woman.
Hello, I said, approaching.
She startled, turning, a swirl of emotions flashing across her facesurprise, embarrassment, something else.
Kevin hi, she managed, a strained smile. How are you?
Better than three months ago, I admitted. Are you picking rings again?
She blushed, looked away.
Yes, Oliver and I in a month.
Congratulations, I said, surprised at how sincere it sounded. I hope it goes through.
She hesitated, then whispered, I know it hurts you. Im really sorry.
No, I raised a hand, stopping her. Everythings said. I just wanted to thank you.
For what? she asked, genuinely puzzled.
For leaving, I replied. If you hadnt, Id still be living someone elses life, squeezing myself into a role that wasnt mine. Id have lost myself.
She frowned.
Its not something you need to understand, I said, smiling. Goodbye, Emily. Be happy.
I walked away feeling an unexpected lightness, as if a heavy load had finally been set down.
Later that day my phone rang. It was Emilys number.
Kevin, can we talk? her voice sounded unsteady.
We already spoke today, I said.
She cant stop thinking about what I said about losing myself.
What am I supposed to think about? I shrugged. I meant exactly what I meant.
Were you unhappy with me? she asked, hurt in her tone.
No, I answered honestly. I was happy, but it was a happiness that required me to give up parts of myselfmy desires, my interests, my principles. I became smaller, quieter, more convenient.
Silence hung between us.
Did I lose myself too? she asked.
I dont think so, I said with a faint smile. You always knew what you wanted and went after it.
Another pause.
Maybe I made a mistake, she whispered. Maybe I shouldnt have
Stop, I cut in. Dont. You made the choice you thought was right, and I accepted it. Theres no turning back.
Why? she asked, tears in her voice. If we both erred?
Because I no longer want to be the convenient option, I said firmly. I dont want to be a spare runway, waiting for you to look elsewhere for something brighter, more prospective.
Youve changed, she said after a beat.
Yes, I agreed. And thats perhaps the only positive outcome of our story. Thank you for calling, Emily, but please, dont call again.
I hung up, inhaled deeply. A strange mix of sorrow and relief settled over me. One chapter closed; another, unwritten, lay ahead, and I would be the one to decide what it holds.
Six months later, on a snowy December day, I stood on the viewing platform of a ski resort in the Lake District. I had finally fulfilled a longheld dreamlearning to ski. The sun caught the glinting snow, and I felt pure joy.
Beautiful, isnt it? a voice said beside me.
I turned to see a girl in a vivid blue ski jacket, brown eyes sparkling.
Absolutely, I replied, smiling. First time here?
Third, she said, taking off a glove and extending her hand. Anna.
Kevin, I introduced myself, shaking her hand. Are you a pro?
More a stubborn enthusiast, she laughed. I fall a lot, but I always get back up. What about you?
Just a beginner, living a longstanding dream, I said, watching the skiers glide down. You know, there are things we keep postponing, thinking someday. Then we realise if it isnt now, it might never be.
Youre a philosopher, she said, tilting her head. I like people who think about life.
And I like people who can fall and get up again, I replied. Want to tackle this slope together? I promise well look spectacular falling.
Deal, she giggled, her laughter echoing off the mountains. First one to the café at the bottom buys mulled wine!
She darted down, and I followed, my heart full of a clean, unburdened happiness. For the first time in ages I was completely, unapologetically myself.
Sometimes you have to lose something precious to discover something pricelessyour own self.
