I Was Done Being A Fool

"Traffic's a nightmare. Give me thirty minutes."

The call ended, and silence fell. Then, thunderous laughter echoed. Selina Wood, my best friend, reluctantly took her phone out and told everyone to pay Chris. "Chris wins again."

I clenched my phone and slowly raised my head to look at these people. Chris was calm, as if he was not surprised about that call I made. "Told you Queenie would come up with this. Pay up, guys."

Someone immediately complained. "That's unfair! You know her better than the rest of us!"

Chris put on a nonchalant smile. "I've brought up getting a marriage licence three times now. Of course she'd lose her temper eventually. She cried the whole night during Valentine's, but she made breakfast for me the next day anyway. When I lied to her and got her going all the way out there on Labor Day, she blocked me."

Someone asked, "For how long?"

"Two days."

The crowd howled, and Chris smirked. "Two days and three hours, then she unblocked me and added me back. Made me promise it was the last time. That's why I knew she'd get mad and threaten a breakup."

It was then I realized these people used me as their betting event again. Many years ago, a typical trust fund baby did the same thing during a drinking session. They betted on how long it would take for Chris to get me to sleep with him.

Chris flipped the table, grabbed a broken wine bottle, and smashed it over that guy's head. "If I hear you talk smack again, you're getting it."

Afterward, his friends had laughed behind his back. They joked that one day he would become completely wrapped around my finger.

And for a while, I believed them.

Then, Yvonne came back.

She loved practical jokes. And somehow, I always became the punchline.

They began placing bets on how quickly I would cry. How long I would sulk. How soon I would forgive Chris.

The man who used to protect me now stood in the center of the crowd, laughing at my humiliation.

Yvonne covered her mouth and teased, "She's jealous of me. You should cheer her up."

"Oh, calm down." Chris looked at me with arrogance in his eyes. "She's been with me for too long. Every single inch of her has my mark on it. No one else would take her. I bet that call was fake too."

Then, he raised his chin at me. "Isn't that right, Queenie?" He was flippant, as if he was playing with a pet he knew all too well.

Even though I was prepared for this, I still felt embarrassed. I unclenched my hands and raised my head. "No, it's not."

Chris frowned.

I looked at him and enunciated, "It's not fake. I'm marrying someone else."