Love Was Your Biggest Lie

On Valentine's Day, I arrived at the restaurant early, eager to get everything ready for the surprise I'd planned for my girlfriend, Callista. All I had to do was wait for her to get off work.

I waited all day, but she never showed up.

She didn't even answer my calls.

I watched as couples left together, one after another, until I was the only one left, sitting alone at a table full of cold food.

I tried reassuring myself that something must have come up at Callista's office. After all, we'd made plans for this date well in advance. She wouldn't stand me up.

Then I came across a post shared by Zachary Lind, Callista’s childhood friend. It felt like a slap in the face.

In the photo, the two of them were leaning affectionately against each other, matching rings gleaming on their fingers.

One of our mutual friends had commented, "The childhood sweethearts finally ended up together! Congratulations!"

Love?

I let out a bitter laugh and pulled the ring box from my pocket.

If Callista and Zachary were in love, then what did that make me, the man who was actually dating her?

I'd accidentally spotted those rings in Callista's bag before. I'd thought she was finally considering marriage, and I'd been so excited at the prospect. After five years together, we were finally going to take the next step.

I didn't think Callista should have to be the one to bring up marriage, so I had planned to propose that very night, on Valentine's Day.

But it turned out the rings weren't something Callista had picked out for us.

They were for Zachary.

Jealousy and bitterness filled my heart.

If Callista had chosen to spend Valentine's Day with Zachary, why had she agreed to my invitation in the first place?

What was I to her? Was I just her second choice, someone she kept around as a rebound?

My throat felt tight, and I could barely breathe.

I looked at the custom-made ring in the box, then at the table covered with all of Callista's favorite dishes. It all felt painfully ironic.

Just then, a waiter approached. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're about to close. How much longer do you expect your guest to be?"

I swallowed hard and answered, "She's not coming."

And I wasn't going to keep waiting like an idiot.

With that, I left the restaurant.

The streets were full of couples cuddling up to each other that Valentine's Day night.

I wandered aimlessly, not knowing where to go. The weather was warm, yet I couldn't feel a hint of warmth.

My phone rang again and again. When I pulled it out, I saw Callista's name on the screen.

I didn't answer, letting it ring until the call finally ended.

It was almost midnight by the time I got home. As soon as I opened the door, Callista snapped at me. "Where the hell have you been? You wouldn't answer your phone, and now you're coming home this late?"

I tightened my grip on the doorknob. "What about you? Why didn't you answer any of my calls?"

Callista replied without hesitation, "I was busy working overtime."

That photo kept replaying in my mind, yet Callista was still lying to my face.

"Do you even remember what we agreed to do tonight?"

That morning, I'd watched Callista put on carefully applied makeup and slip into a fitted dress before leaving the house. I'd secretly been thrilled, thinking she was making an effort for our date. I was sure she'd be happy when I proposed.

I never imagined she'd already forgotten our plans. She had dressed up for Zachary, not me.

Callista looked momentarily confused, as if she couldn't remember what I was talking about.

I gave a bitter smile. Indeed, she had forgotten about me.

"I made plans with you a week ago to have dinner tonight. I waited at the restaurant all night. Where were you?"

Callista finally remembered, and she immediately appeared flustered.

"I'm sorry, Julian. I was so busy working overtime that it completely slipped my mind. Let me make it up to you tomorrow, okay?"

She came over, took my hand, and gave it a little shake.

I pulled my hand away and looked her straight in the eye. "Callista, were you really working late at the office today?"

A guilty look flickered in her eyes, but she answered firmly, "Of course I was. What, don't you trust me?"

She seemed hurt by my words.

If it weren't for the unmistakable glint of the ring on her finger, I might have wondered whether I was being unfair to her.

I used to think Callista was a sweet, innocent girl. Now, she felt like a complete stranger.

For the first time, I found myself wondering how many of the things she'd told me over the years had been true and how many had been lies.

Once the trust between two people broke down, things could never be the same again.

I clenched the ring box in my pocket and forced myself to speak. "It's over between us, Callista."