Fleeting Years, a Misplaced Devotion

Levi Meyer was gone for 30 minutes.

During that time, Lucy Carr called him five times. He answered every call and waited for her to hang up before ending each conversation.

I sat there in a daze, struggling to reconcile what I was witnessing with the man I thought I knew.

Levi had a strict rule about phone calls: they could never last longer than two minutes. If a conversation ran over, he would hang up without hesitation.

Just the night before, I'd called to ask for the code to our new smart lock. After I entered it incorrectly twice, our call exceeded the two-minute limit.

He hung up on me immediately.

With no way to get inside, I ended up squatting outside our front door for two hours until he finally came home and let me in. When I asked why he hadn't replied to my messages, his answer left me speechless.

"Just because you have nothing to do doesn't mean I'm just sitting around."

...

Levi returned to the car, and Lucy climbed into the passenger seat.

As we drove away, the employees passing by made no effort to keep their voices down.

"Mr. Meyer is so good to Lucy. He picks her up and drops her off every day, rain or shine."

"Whenever Lucy has a meeting with him, it runs ten minutes longer than usual."

"Who would have thought our efficiency-obsessed CEO would turn into a lovesick puppy? I'm totally shipping them!"

Sitting beside Levi, Lucy wore an expression of helpless amusement, although the smile playing at the corners of her lips was impossible to miss.

"Emilie, they're just joking around. Don't take it to heart," she said. "They even photoshopped our profile pictures onto a fake marriage certificate."

She pulled up an album of the edited certificates on her phone and showed it to me, as though the whole thing were nothing more than a hilarious office prank.

I stared at the pictures from the back seat, unable to find anything amusing about them.

"Anyone who saw those would think you two were actually married," I remarked.

"I can understand strangers getting the wrong idea, but Lucy is your best friend," Levi scowled. "Why are you teasing her about it, too?"

Lucy hurried to smooth things over. "It's your anniversary. As long as you're happy, I don't mind what people say."

But her attempt to defuse the situation only made Levi more defensive.

"She only cares about herself," he said, his jaw tightening. "She shows up whenever she pleases without considering how much trouble she causes other people."

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Emilie, I don't want news about our upcoming wedding disrupting the company's IPO preparations. Don't ever come to my office again."

I lowered my gaze to an earring Lucy had left behind on the center console.

Then, unable to ignore the double standard any longer, I asked, "If you're so worried about people getting the wrong idea, why don't you and Lucy have to worry about your fake marriage certificate?"

Levi frowned, as though I'd asked the most unreasonable question imaginable.

"Because we have nothing to hide!"

I let out a bitter laugh.

Apparently, their fake marriage certificate was perfectly innocent, but the prospect of people learning about my actual relationship with Levi was an inconvenience he couldn't tolerate.

Before I could say anything else, Lucy tugged gently at his sleeve.

"Emilie made reservations at a private-dining restaurant, and I'm starving. Why don't we all go together?"

Levi paused before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "If you've booked a restaurant, you should have told us earlier. Why make Lucy wander around outside with you?"

And just like that, our date became a dinner for three.

When the appetizers arrived, I quietly gave one of my two starters to Lucy.

Partway through dinner, my mother called to ask about the wedding reception. She also wanted to speak to Levi, so I handed him my phone.

When she asked which date we'd chosen for the reception, he answered flatly, "Any day is fine. There's no need to fuss over these trivial details, Mrs. Hammond. We're busy right now, so I've got to go."

He ended the call cleanly and efficiently, then handed my phone back as though nothing unusual had happened. "You've always been a perfectionist about details. But I want to keep the wedding as simple as possible."

His words left me feeling depressed. Before I could collect myself, a string of apologetic messages from Natalya appeared on my screen.

Natalya Hammond: [I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you two were busy.]

[Please tell Levi that next time, I'll make sure to schedule a call with him in advance.]

[And don't worry about the wedding. There's no rush at all. Take your time.]

I stared at her messages, suddenly losing my appetite.

I excused myself to the restroom. Once outside, I stopped beside the courtyard restaurant's window. Through the glass, I could hear Lucy laughing as she shared office gossip with Levi.

He listened attentively, occasionally chuckling along with her. The contrast brought back a memory I'd tried not to dwell on.

Not long ago, I'd tried telling Levi about the stress and unfair treatment I was experiencing at work. I hadn't even finished my first sentence before he cut me off.

"Why do you think I care about your petty, trivial drama?"

At the time, I'd blamed his response on his workload and convinced myself that he simply didn't have the energy to listen. But watching him now, I could no longer make excuses for him.

The problem had never been his obsession with efficiency. He just didn't consider my feelings worth the effort.

I lowered my eyes to my phone and texted back: [Mom, the wedding is off.]