I caught Sarah cheating. The day before our wedding, I got a notification on my phone – a hotel check-in confirmation with her name and Nick's.
I stayed calm, waiting for her to come home and explain herself. But Sarah offered no explanation. All she texted was, "I'm ready. See you tomorrow."
Seeing that message, my stomach churned. What was I to her? A backup plan? My chest felt heavy, like I couldn't breathe. Looking around our meticulously decorated apartment, I felt a surge of anger.
Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the bitterness and texted back, "We're not getting married. We're done."
Sarah didn't reply. I didn't know if she'd even seen it, but I didn't care. I felt dirty.
I tried to push down the sadness, carefully putting my wedding suit back in its fancy box.
Sarah was beautiful, successful, a high-powered executive at a top-tier company. Everyone thought I was punching above my weight, constantly reminding me to be understanding and supportive of her demanding career. I'd taken their advice, trying my best to be the perfect husband-to-be.
But cheating? Once a cheater, always a cheater. I wanted a clean, honest marriage, not a messy, broken life. I couldn't stomach it.
Only my mom and my best friend, Mark, knew about the wedding. I texted them both, letting them know it was off. My mom was shocked, urging me to reconsider, to not be hasty. But when I told her why, she fell silent. After a long pause, she said, "Okay, honey. If you're sure, I support you."
I dismantled the wedding decorations, packed everything away. There was no point in keeping them. Then I turned off my phone and crashed. I didn't care what happened next.
But the next day, the knocking started. I pretended I wasn't home, letting them pound on the door. Sarah should have known this was coming. Just when I thought the drama was over and I could get my life back on track, she showed up.
Her beautiful face was etched with exhaustion, her clear eyes fixed on mine. "Jason," she said, her voice hoarse, "Are you done with this childish behavior?"
I snapped back, "Ms. Miller, what right do you have to question me?"
"Jason, please stop. I'm exhausted." Her voice softened, pleading. But she still wouldn't explain why she was at a hotel with Nick.
I scoffed. Exhausted from juggling two guys? "That's not my problem." I tried to brush past her, but she grabbed my wrist.
Her warm hand on my skin felt like a jolt of electricity. I yanked my arm away, glaring at her. "Don't touch me!"
Sarah flinched, looking at me with surprise. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Sarah," I said, my voice cold, "If you don't want to make this any worse, just leave."
"Jason!" she snapped, her voice tight with anger. "You left me standing at the altar, humiliated. I'm dealing with the fallout, I'm exhausted. Can't we just talk?"
"Talk about what? About what you did with him in that hotel room? Sorry, I'm not interested in your dirty little secrets."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, her face hardening. "Only a guilty conscience sees everything as dirty," she hissed.
"Yeah, well, my conscience is guilty. I'm not good enough for Miss Perfect," I retorted.
"Then we're in agreement," she said coldly. "You're free to find someone who is."
Her eyes were dark, like she was barely holding back her rage. She took a deep breath. "Jason, let's go back to my parents' place and talk. They're expecting you for dinner."
The mention of her parents made me feel a pang of guilt. Mr. and Mrs. Miller were nothing like Sarah. They were kind, welcoming, and had always treated me like family. Maybe they thought if they treated me well, I'd treat Sarah well in return. And I had. I'd always put her first, cooking dinner every night after work so she could relax.
But I hadn't realized that my efforts were being taken for granted. This needed to be addressed. So I agreed to go with her.
But I didn't get in her car. I drove myself. Her face tightened, but she didn't say anything.
We arrived at her parents' house. Before we even stepped inside, I heard Mrs. Miller's voice, "We're out of fruit. Go get some of Jason's favorites."
"Sure thing, be right back," Mr. Miller replied.
He came to the door, paused when he saw us, then smiled warmly. "You're here! Come in, come in. I'll be back with the fruit in a jiffy."
I felt awkward, speechless. On the drive over, I'd imagined them yelling at me, blaming me. I hadn't expected this warm welcome.
Sarah retrieved my slippers from the shoe rack. I mumbled a thank you as I put them on. She hesitated, her gaze complex. I avoided her eyes, walking into the familiar living room.
Mrs. Miller emerged from the kitchen, her face lighting up. "Jason, you're here! Have a seat, dinner will be ready soon."
She and Mr. Miller were all smiles, acting as if the runaway groom incident never happened. Seeing their genuine happiness made me feel even guiltier. But it didn't change my mind.
I sat on the couch, stiffly staring at the blank TV screen.
Sarah placed a glass of water in front of me. "You're acting like it's your first time here," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
I kept my eyes forward. "Because it's not my home," I replied quietly. Then, adding a touch of ice to my tone, "And it's the last time I'll be here."
Sarah's hand tightened around her glass, her knuckles turning white. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, like she was holding something back.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
She got up to answer it, and Nick's cheerful voice floated in from the hallway. "Sarah, what's cooking? Smells amazing!"
He walked in, making himself at home, a gift bag in his hand. He froze when he saw me, then managed a weak smile. "Jason, you're here too."
My eyes swept over him, stopping at his feet. He was wearing a pair of blue slippers with teddy bears on them. They matched Sarah's pink teddy bear slippers. I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
Dinner was served. Mrs. Miller, as always, fussed over me, making sure I was comfortable, even asking Sarah to serve me food. Sarah frowned, clearly reluctant. She'd always thought sharing food was unsanitary, like swapping saliva.
I remembered a previous dinner when she'd asked, "Why do people share food from their plates? Isn't it gross?" I'd been uncomfortable then, quickly changing the subject. Now, seeing the disgust in her eyes, I shook my head. "It's okay, Mrs. Miller. I can help myself."
Mrs. Miller's smile faltered. She glared at Sarah, then turned back to me with a forced smile. "Of course, dear. Eat up."
Nick smirked and placed a piece of sweet and sour pork on Sarah's plate. She didn't object, calmly eating the food he'd given her.
Watching them, I almost laughed. She was disgusted by my touch, yet she accepted his advances without a second thought. If her parents weren't there, I don't know what I would have said.
Mrs. Miller cleared her throat. "Don't be rude, Sarah. take care of Jason as well."
Sarah glanced at me and reluctantly placed a shrimp on my plate.
I was allergic to shellfish. After three years together, she still didn't know.
The food turned to ash in my mouth. I didn't touch the shrimp. It sat there on my plate, a stark reminder of her indifference.
I looked up, forcing a smile. "Thank you for the delicious meal, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. However, there's something I need to clarify. Sarah and I have broken up. I'm sorry, I know you had high hopes for us."
The Millers were stunned. Sarah clenched her fists, staring at me silently.
Nick, however, jumped in. "Jason, what are you talking about? Why are you breaking up? Don't you take marriage seriously?"
I looked at him, his faux-concern making me sick. "Don't you know why?" I asked quietly.
"Jason!" Sarah interrupted, her voice sharp. "I told you, Nick is just a friend. Stop being ridiculous."
Nick's face fell.
I looked at Sarah, suddenly feeling exhausted.
I stood up, addressing her parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Miller, thank you for the dinner. I'll take you out sometime soon. I just remembered I have some urgent matters to handle. I'll be going now."
Mrs. Miller, sensing the tension, stood up with a sigh. "Alright, dear. You're always welcome here. Come visit us again soon."
That wasn't going to happen.
I nodded vaguely and left.
I drove straight to Mark's place. He'd helped me arrange the wedding cars, and I needed to cancel them.
Mark ushered me in, grabbing a bowl of popcorn and settling on the couch. "Spill it, man. What the hell happened?"
"Personality clash, irreconcilable differences," I said lightly, but the words felt heavy in my chest. Neither of us had expected this to happen, not right before the wedding. I wasn't telling him the truth, not wanting to humiliate myself further.
"Irreconcilable differences? After three years? Come on, man."
I looked at him, not saying a word. He was a guy; he could read between the lines.
Mark gasped. "No way. Don't tell me… you got cheated on?"
I pressed my lips together, silently confirming his suspicions.
"Damn, I knew she wasn't fully committed. Figured she was just looking for a nice guy to settle down with after she was done playing the field."
"Don't be so harsh. Everyone makes their own choices."
Mark snorted. "Yeah, well, her choice sucked. Don't worry, man. There are plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find someone better."
Talking to Mark helped. After I dealt with the wedding cars, I felt a little lighter. I realized I deserved better than to be treated like this.
I went back to work, trying to focus on my career. My colleagues who knew about the wedding congratulated me, their happy smiles bringing a mix of warmth and sadness. Who would have thought the wedding favors would still be uneaten while I was back to being single?
"Jason, you and your wife aren't planning on having kids anytime soon, are you? You'll need to take paternity leave, and everyone knows you're a shoo-in for the manager position. Wouldn't want to jeopardize that for family life," a colleague whispered during lunch break.
I had been worried about that, torn between career advancement and starting a family. But now, the dilemma was solved.
"Don't worry," I said. "That's not in the cards for me anytime soon."
"Oh? Your family won't pressure you?"
I smiled faintly. "No one gets to dictate my life. These things should happen naturally."
My colleague looked impressed. "You're so wise. You're right, it's your life. No one can tell you what to do."
I felt a pang of bitterness. If I were truly wise, I wouldn't have let things get this far.
I buried myself in work, avoiding anything related to Sarah. I realized that cutting someone out of your life was surprisingly easy.
Five days passed without any contact from Sarah. Just when I thought she'd given up, she showed up at my doorstep.
I was coming home from the grocery store, stepping out of the elevator, when I saw her. Sarah was standing by my door, holding a bouquet of vibrant red roses. Her beauty and elegance were hard to ignore.
I walked towards the door, intending to unlock it.
"Jason, we need to talk."
What was there left to say? I glanced at her. "Move. I'm going home."
"I was wrong about what happened. I'm here to apologize."
I was surprised. She'd never admitted to being wrong before. During our arguments, she'd always been convinced she was right, accusing me of being unreasonable. She'd let me stew in my anger, knowing it would eventually blow over.
Perhaps she was finally realizing I was serious about ending things.
I stopped, facing her. "Sarah, there's no need to apologize. We're over."
"Jason, I never wanted to break up," she said earnestly. "My parents love you, and I don't care about you running away from the wedding. Let's start over."
My heart sank. So this was the woman I'd loved for three years. She wanted to get back together, not because she missed me, but because of her parents. She wanted to reconcile to appease them.
It was laughable. What did she think marriage was?
I forced a smile. "Did your parents put you up to this?"
She remained silent, her silence answering my question.
"Sarah," I said calmly, "Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly hypocritical?"
Sarah looked taken aback. She'd been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, a princess who'd always gotten what she wanted. This might be the first time someone had dared to criticize her.
"Sarah, do you know what I want?"
"Tell me. I'll give you whatever you want."
I chuckled bitterly. "You can't give me what I want."
All I'd ever wanted was her loyalty, her undivided attention. But that was something she could never provide. When forced to choose between me and Nick, I'd never been her first choice.
I took out my keys and unlocked the door. Just as I was about to step inside, Sarah blocked the entrance. "How do you know I can't give it to you if you won't tell me what it is?" she asked, her eyes intense.
Her phone rang. She hesitated, then looked at the screen.
I was close enough to see the caller ID. It was Nick.
Sarah looked conflicted, not answering the call, but Nick kept calling.
"Answer it," I said. "Don't keep him waiting."
"Just a minute," she said, backing away to answer the call.
I seized the opportunity and slammed the door shut.
Through the peephole, I watched her stare at the closed door, a defeated sigh escaping her lips.
As she answered the call, she disappeared from view. Within seconds, the hallway was silent again, as if she'd never been there.
I'd expected this outcome, but seeing it with my own eyes still stung.
The next morning, I went to work. As I opened my apartment door, I saw a bouquet of roses lying on the floor. The vibrant red roses from yesterday were now wilted, a sad reflection of my pathetic situation.
Before Sarah, I'd lived a carefree life. I'd traveled, explored, and enjoyed my free time. But she'd called those pursuits meaningless, a waste of time. I'd stopped traveling, prioritizing her and her demanding schedule, always available at her beck and call.
But I'd forgotten that sometimes, doing too much for someone makes them take you for granted.
I picked up the roses and went downstairs, tossing them in the trash.
The cleaning lady looked at me in surprise. "Mr. Davis, those are still good. Why are you throwing them away?"
I smiled faintly. "I don't want them anymore."
I didn't want the flowers. And I didn't want Sarah.
I ignored her attempts to win me back. She started bringing me breakfast, then afternoon tea, not just for me, but for the entire office.
My colleagues joked, "Jason, you're so lucky! Your wife is amazing, buttering us up like this."
"Yeah, I'd be grinning from ear to ear if I had a wife like that."
Perhaps it was Sarah's way of marking her territory, a subtle reminder to the other women in the office.
Her efforts had mixed results. I frowned, listening to their comments. I'd never mentioned my wife at work, and now she was making a spectacle of our relationship. It was more of a nuisance than anything else.
But I kept quiet, not wanting to cause a scene. If she wanted to play happy wife, let her.
I enjoyed the peace and quiet, slowly rediscovering myself.
Then, Mrs. Miller invited me to her birthday dinner. I loved her dearly, but I knew I couldn't get involved in their family drama anymore. I declined politely.
Later that day, Mark invited me out for dinner. I agreed, needing a distraction. But I hadn't expected him to choose the same restaurant where the Millers were having their celebration.
I arrived early, taking a detour to the restroom before heading to our reserved room. As I approached the door, I heard a muffled sob.
"Sarah, if I left my fiancée for you, if I convinced your parents to accept me, could we go back to how things were?"
Sarah didn't answer. She had her back to me, her expression hidden.
Nick's voice was thick with emotion, his eyes filled with longing.
His words sent a chill down my spine. What did he mean? Had they been together before?
"Nick, the past is in the past. We need to move on."
"But you only chose Jason because your parents approved of him," Nick argued. "I can be just like him, I can win them over. Sarah, you promised you'd marry me."
Their words pierced me like daggers. I felt my chest tighten, my fists clenching.
"Jason, you're here after all," Mrs. Miller's cheerful voice startled me.
I turned around stiffly. Sarah whipped around, her eyes widening in panic. "Jason, when did you get here?"
Nick stopped talking, glaring at me with resentment.
I looked at them coldly. "I've been here, listening to you reminisce about the good old days."
Sarah was speechless. Mrs. Miller glared at her daughter.
She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.
"Mrs. Miller, happy birthday. I'm sorry, I have a prior engagement with a friend. I can't stay for dinner. I'll take you both out another time."
"But Jason, I…"
"Mrs. Miller, I don't want to spell it out, but Sarah and I are not a good match." I looked at them, my voice firm. "If you two are truly in love, then you should be together."
"They say it's better to demolish a temple than to break up a marriage. I don't want to be the villain. I'm sorry."
I turned and walked away, the air in the room too thick to breathe.
Outside, my composure crumbled. I felt a lump forming in my throat, my emotions threatening to spill over. I wanted to confront her, to ask her what she thought I was, a consolation prize? A replacement for Nick?
But the answer to both questions was the same: she didn't love me. And if she didn't love me, then anyone would do.
My head spun, my body trembling. The convenience store next door started playing a song.
"I Will Survive."
It was fitting. But not what I needed to hear right now.
I took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness, and walked into the store. I grabbed a bottle of cheap whiskey and a pack of spicy ramen, then drove home.
My chest felt heavy, like a lead weight. I needed to let it all out.
The whiskey and the fiery ramen brought tears to my eyes. I didn't need a mirror to know how pathetic I looked.
But after this self-inflicted torture, I felt a sense of relief. The alcohol, however, made me drowsy. I collapsed on the couch, drifting off to sleep.
My phone rang. It was Mark.
"Jason, where the hell are you? You're an hour late! Me and this hot chick are waiting for you."
"I'm not coming," I mumbled.
Mark's voice softened. "Heartbreak, huh? The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I'll hook you up, buddy. Don't worry."
I sighed. "I'm not interested in dating right now. I just want to focus on my career. Maybe later."
He tried to push the issue, but I deflected, talking about work instead.
My mom had a rough life with my dad. He'd spent my entire childhood torn between her and his first love, torturing himself and nearly driving my mom crazy. When I was eighteen, he finally chose his first love, leaving us with nothing. He took all the money and left us to fend for ourselves. It wasn't until two years ago that my mom finally found happiness with someone else.
She always said that you can't force love, and you shouldn't settle. Once a relationship is broken, it's hard to fix.
That's why I couldn't ignore Sarah's betrayal. I hated indecisive people. I believed that everyone, whether man or woman, should be faithful in a relationship.
But Sarah had taught me a valuable lesson. The only thing in this world that wouldn't betray you was money. Instead of wasting time on sadness, I needed to invest in myself.
I blocked Sarah's number, along with her parents'. I needed a clean break, no more lingering attachments.
I poured all my energy into my work and self-improvement, spending my days between home and the office, pushing all thoughts of Sarah away.
"Mr. Davis, how long will we be out of town?" my new assistant, Lisa, asked.
I looked up from my paperwork. "Two days. Just pack a change of clothes."
Lisa was the younger sister of my previous assistant, who'd recommended her before going on maternity leave. I wasn't usually a fan of nepotism, but Lisa was just as competent as her sister, so I'd kept her on.
I hadn't expected her first mistake to happen during a business trip.
We were standing in the hotel lobby, staring at each other in disbelief.
Lisa fidgeted nervously. "Are you sure there are no rooms available?" she asked the receptionist for the tenth time.
"Miss Lee, I've told you, we're fully booked. There's been a series of rainstorms, and travelers are stranded. All the hotels in the area are full."
"But…"
I sighed. "Forget it. We'll take the one room."
Luckily, Lisa had accidentally booked a room with two beds, thinking we were friends on vacation. If it had been a single bed, I wouldn't have known what to do.
I used a bedsheet to create a makeshift divider between the beds.
"Mr. Davis, can I call my family?" Lisa asked hesitantly.
I knew what she was thinking. "Go ahead. If you're worried, we can video call them. I'll explain the situation. I'll get a separate room tomorrow when the weather clears up."
I didn't want to risk any rumors or misunderstandings.
Lisa nodded and video called her parents. They were furious, practically yelling through the screen.
I patiently explained the situation, assuring them that I wouldn't harm their daughter.
They eventually calmed down, but they still insisted that Lisa keep them updated.
I sighed. If it weren't for the important meeting tomorrow, I would have slept in the hallway.
"Mr. Davis, you can sleep now. I'll put my phone on silent," Lisa said, burrowing under the covers.
Her voice was muffled, barely audible.
I was exhausted and fell asleep quickly.
The next morning, I got a separate room as soon as one became available. The awkward situation was avoided.
The business trip went smoothly. The client was someone I'd worked with before, and we quickly finalized the deal.
Back in Seattle, Lisa picked me up from the airport. "Mr. Davis, thanks for looking out for me these past few days. Let me drive you home."
"Sure," I agreed.
I was exhausted, looking forward to a hot shower and a long sleep.
We arrived at my apartment building. I thanked Lisa, and she blushed.
"Don't mention it. Get some rest. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," I replied, watching her drive away.
I turned to go inside, but stopped dead in my tracks. Sarah was standing there, her eyes blazing with fury.
"You checked into a hotel with her?" she asked, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief.
Seeing her anger, I knew exactly who had told her. Mark was the only one who knew about the hotel situation.
I looked at her coldly. "What's it to you?"
She gasped, her face contorted with hurt. "Are you trying to get back at me?"
I mimicked her earlier tone. "Don't flatter yourself. Only a guilty conscience sees everything as dirty."
Sarah swayed, almost losing her balance. Perhaps she was finally feeling the anger I'd felt that night. But it was too late.
I thought that would be the last time I saw her. But the next morning, she was waiting for me again.
She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, her eyes filled with exhaustion.
"Jason, I brought you breakfast…" she said, offering me a bag of soup dumplings.
I barely glanced at it. I'd never actually liked soup dumplings; I'd only pretended to enjoy them because she'd bought them for me. I used to accept everything she offered, but now I felt nothing but annoyance.
"This is getting ridiculous, Sarah. Stop this. We need to move on."
I walked towards the elevator.
Sarah followed, her voice desperate. "Jason, I'm sorry for what I said before. What do I have to do to make you forgive me?"
The elevator was small, her pleas echoing in the confined space. I stared at the closing doors, feeling nothing. Letting go felt surprisingly liberating.
"Ms. Miller, do you know what I'm thinking right now?"
"What?" she asked.
"I'm thinking I wish I'd never met you. Or that I'd ended things when I found out about Nick. I wouldn't have wasted three years of my life."
Sarah flinched, hurt flashing in her eyes. "But meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me," she said, her voice tight.
Her words felt like a slap in the face.
The elevator reached the ground floor, and I stepped out.
Looking at her hopeful expression, I said, "Well, my misfortune ends here."
This time, she didn't follow.
I sat down at my desk, and a message from an unknown number popped up on my phone. It was a series of photos of Nick and Sarah. He was beaming, his eyes filled with adoration. Sarah was smiling radiantly, leaning against him. They looked happy, perfect together.
I raised an eyebrow and replied, "Nice pictures, but you've got the wrong number."
Then I unblocked Sarah's number, forwarded the photos and Nick's Instagram post, and added, "If you don't want to make this a bigger mess, keep your man in check. Don't let this happen again."
I blocked her again, feeling a surge of satisfaction.
"Mr. Davis, congratulations!" Lisa said, beaming as she walked into the office. She placed a cup of coffee on my desk.
"What do you mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I overheard the boss on the phone in the elevator. You're getting promoted to manager! I'm the first to know, so congrats! Don't forget about me when you're a big shot," she said with a wink.
I was stunned.
Just then, the boss called me into his office.
Just as Lisa had said, I was getting promoted.
Walking out of the office, I couldn't stop grinning. I'd known this day would come, but I hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
That afternoon, I got a call from Mark.
"Jason, you won't believe what I just saw!" he exclaimed.
"What?" I asked, waiting for him to continue.
"I saw Sarah and Nick. Sarah was furious, yelling at him."
I felt nothing. "And?"
"She told him she doesn't like him and that he needs to back off! Can you believe that? She doesn't like him? Then why the hell did she sleep with him? What would she do if she actually liked him?"
I almost laughed out loud.
I smiled, glancing up. My eyes met Sarah's. She was looking at me with regret, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
I masked my expression and walked past her, pretending I hadn't seen her. But just as I was about to pass, she grabbed my wrist.
"Jason, I know I messed up. I wasn't thinking straight, I didn't mean for things to go so far with Nick. Can you please give me another chance? I promise I'll never see him again."
Her eyes were pleading, her face etched with guilt and remorse. But there are some things you can't take back, some mistakes that are unforgivable.
"Sarah, don't you feel sick saying that? Only you and Nick know what happened in that hotel room, but I'm not stupid. Don't make me spell it out for you."
Sarah's face paled. "Can't you forgive me? I was drunk that night, I don't remember anything, I…"
"Save it. We were together for three years. I know you."
I scoffed. "There are plenty of women out there who are better than you. I don't need to waste my time on you, Sarah. Don't flatter yourself."
I pushed her hand away, wiping my clothes where she'd touched me.
Sarah's face crumpled, like she was about to cry. But I didn't care. She'd brought this on herself.
Just then, Lisa came running in, soaked to the bone.
"Mr. Davis, it's pouring outside! Can I get a ride with you?"
Looking at her, drenched and miserable, I couldn't help but smile. I held up my car keys. "Let's go."
