Chapter 3

Yet next time, Everett did it all over again.

Five years, and I still never became his "habit."

Everett didn't get home until eleven that night.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. When he caught me still sitting in the darkened living room, he froze.

"You're still up?"

I offered no answer, asking instead, "Did Sienna get home okay?"

"Yeah. Her place is kind of far, so I drove her back myself."

He strolled over and reached out to wrap his arms around me out of pure muscle memory.

I jerked my shoulder back, dodging his touch.

Everett's hands stiffened in thin air, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"Are you still mad about this afternoon? Look, I'm sorry, okay? What do you want to eat? Let me whip something up for you, babe, alright?"

I kept my eyes glued to the floor, finally voicing the exact question that had been haunting me for five straight years.

"Everett, when you agreed to marry me, was it only because Sienna talked you into it?"

The easy smile faded from Everett's face.

He dropped his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer exhaustion. "Does it even matter?"

"It matters to me."

I locked eyes with him stubbornly, trying to shove five years of unspoken agony into those four words.

Everett snapped.

It was that defensive, ugly kind of anger when someone got caught red-handed, and his voice spiked an octave higher.

"What difference does it make?! Don't forget, you're the one who begged to marry me in the first place!"

My jaw parted.

Every sentence caught in my throat, choking me so hard I couldn't squeeze out a single syllable.

Right. I was the one who begged.

Five years ago, I fell for him first and pulled him out of the wreckage of his breakup.

A year ago, I was the one who brought up marriage.

From day one, it was always me.

Did that give him the right to treat me like total trash?

Everett slammed the front door on his way out, plunging the living room right back into total pitch-black silence.

Right then, my phone screen lit up with a friend request.

It was the guy my mom arranged for me to meet, Tristan Lawson, accompanied by a picture of a designer wedding dress.

A few text bubbles followed right after.

[This one is custom-made by a master artisan from Rosemont.]

[It's tailored to your measurements. Give it a try tomorrow.]

I stared at that photo for a long, quiet time.

I stared until the burning sting in my eyes slowly receded.

I tapped accept on the request.

Then I typed out my reply.

[Sounds good.]

Sent.

…

A barrage of frantic vibrations woke me up the next morning.

Everett was already gone, and my screen was flooded with voice notes from my mom.

"The dress is already here. You better figure things out tomorrow.

"He literally flew back from overseas just for this. If you flake on him again, I won't be able to show my face in public ever again.

"Leah, do you hear me?!"

I texted back: [I hear you.]

Then I dragged myself out of bed and started packing my bags.

More than half the closet was filled with clothes Everett had bought me.

Yet most of them still had the tags attached. Either the colors were off, or the sizing was totally wrong.

There was one dress that was a full size too small.

Everett had laughed it off at the time.

"Did you gain weight recently?"

Only later did I figure out the truth. It was Sienna's style, and it was Sienna's size.

On my nightstand sat the bottle of perfume he gave me. It smelled suffocatingly sweet.

Sienna's signature scent.

Buried deep in the back drawer was our engagement photo.

In the picture, my smile was forced and desperate. Everett was staring off past the camera lens completely.

I stared at that photo for an eternity before flipping it facedown, leaving it right where it was.

The things that actually belonged to me were painfully few.

When I pulled the zipper closed, the suitcase was still half empty.

A dry laugh escaped my throat.

Five years of devotion.

It couldn't even fill a single piece of luggage.

I was walking through the airport terminal when Everett's caller ID flashed on my phone.

His voice exploded through the receiver, laced with pure rage.

"Leah, why are the wedding invitations still being printed?

"Didn't I say we were postponing the wedding? Are you completely insane? You think this whole thing is a joke?

"The dress hasn't even been altered yet! What are you planning to wear tomorrow?!"

My voice remained ice-cold and steady.

"You don't need to fix the dress anymore, Everett. I already have my dress ready."