Choose Me Too Late

The hardest part was not taking off the ring. It was accepting that Varany had spent years trying to save a marriage that was already over.

She slipped off her wedding ring, placed it beside the house key, and turned their wedding picture face down. That was the last thing she did as Mrs. Bradly Valemont.

Her finger felt strangely light, but the pain in her chest remained. She remembered the night she first met Bradly at her debut, when her parents suddenly announced their engagement in front of hundreds of guests. She had wanted to object, but with everyone watching, she could not get the words out.

Bradly had only looked at her, cold and unreadable, as if he hated the idea of marrying her.

Two weeks later, Varany became his wife.

She spent the next few years trying to make the marriage work. She woke before sunrise, cooked, cleaned, studied late into the night, and refused when Bradly offered to hire a maid. She thought that if she tried hard enough, he might eventually care about her.

But they barely spoke, and most days felt lonely. Still, every morning she woke beside him, she told herself the same thing.

Varany kept telling herself that someday Bradly would look at her differently and their marriage would become real. She repeated that hope so often it became a prayer.

Then she began noticing the signs: another woman's perfume, hidden messages, private phone calls, and conversations that stopped whenever she entered the room. She saw everything but pretended not to, because admitting the truth meant losing the little hope she had left.

That hope finally ended when Varany brought Bradly lunch at his office. She had spent nearly an hour choosing what to wear, hoping to surprise him and create one good memory. Instead, she opened his door and found him kissing another woman.

Bradly did not even notice her at first. Varany quietly closed the door and never brought him lunch again.

Six months into their marriage, she came home from school with groceries and found Bradly on their couch, kissing another woman. The groceries fell from her hands as vegetables rolled across the floor and a bottle tipped over.

Bradly looked surprised to see her. “I'm sorry. I thought you'd come home later. I'll fix this, then I'll leave.”

The words hurt more than the betrayal. He spoke as if her coming home had simply interrupted his plans.

Varany said nothing as she picked up the groceries. She carried them into the kitchen, trying to hold back her tears.

“Who is she, Honey?” the woman asked.

The word hurt. Varany had spent months wishing Bradly would call her something that affectionate, yet he said nothing.

“Hey! Who are you?” the woman demanded. “Why are you barging into my boyfriend's house? Don't you know how to knock?”

Varany stopped. Her husband. Her house. Yet this woman believed Bradly was her boyfriend.

She wanted answers, but she refused to break down in front of them. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am. I just brought the groceries. I thought no one was home yet.”

She turned away before the woman could see her tears.

“So you're the maid,” the woman said with a mocking laugh. “No wonder you have no manners. When someone talks to you, you should face them.”

Varany tightened her grip on the grocery bag.

“And where exactly are you going?”

Varany swallowed hard. “I'm just going to get the dirty clothes.”

Varany kept her eyes down and hurried to their bedroom before she said something she would regret. She locked the door, slid to the floor, and finally let herself cry.

Afterward, exhausted and numb, she grabbed her old volleyball duffel bag and began packing clothes and school things. She had to leave. She could not stay there, at least not tonight.

When she returned to the living room, the woman was still sitting comfortably beside Bradly. His eyes fell on Varany's bag, but when their eyes met, he looked away.

“Hey,” the woman called. “Before you leave, bring us a snack for your sir.”

Your sir.

The words made something inside Varany go still. She set down her bag and walked into the kitchen.

Even after everything, she prepared Bradly a sandwich, some fruit, and a drink, just the way he liked them. She hated that she still remembered.

Varany placed the food on the table without a word, then picked up her bag and headed for the door. Before leaving, she looked at Bradly one last time, waiting for him to stop her, apologize, or even say her name.

He said nothing.

That silence finally killed the last of her hope. Varany had spent years believing they might become a real couple if she tried hard enough, but Bradly had never chosen her, and she finally understood that he never would.

That night, Bradly went to her condo after finding her gone from the house. He knocked, then called and sent message after message.

But the woman who had spent years waiting for him to choose her was finally done waiting.