Missing from His Picture

After I sent the message canceling the wedding, I sat alone in the study, my hands and feet ice-cold.

On the screen in front of me was the pet account's entire posting history from the past three years. All 1,095 days of it.

Eugene Chapman appeared in every single one.

Sometimes, I saw his profile. Sometimes just his back. Sometimes, he held the ragdoll cat named Mochi in his arms, smiling at the camera with a softness I knew all too well.

I turned off my phone.

The living room light was still on. For the past five years, I had always left it on whenever he came home late.

Then I heard a key turn in the front door.

Eugene was home.

He took off his coat and walked over to me, a slight frown on his face.

"You still haven't finished the wedding intro video?"

He didn't explain why he was home so late. He didn't seem to notice anything different about me, either.

I looked at him calmly. "Almost."

He apparently didn't notice the chill in my voice and went on, "It's due tomorrow. Don't forget."

Then he tossed his camera bag onto the couch. A black camera remote slipped out of the side pocket and rolled across the rug.

My heart sank.

I knew that remote.

I had seen Charlotte Ellis holding the exact same one in countless videos, laughing as she called to Eugene behind the camera, "Eugene, start recording!"

So he didn't just happen to appear in those videos; he was the one filming them.

Eugene bent down and picked up the remote. When he noticed me staring at it, he casually slipped it back into his bag.

"What are you looking at?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Eugene, what's going on with that pet account?"

His expression immediately turned impatient. "I already told you. It's work. I'm collaborating with a pet influencer."

"Your job requires you to be in her videos every day? For three years?"

"What are you trying to make this into now?" His voice rose. "Louisa, can you be an adult about this? Stop turning everything into a relationship problem."

"I just wanted to know…"

"You don't need to know," he cut in. "Just do what you're supposed to do and finish editing the wedding video."

He was always like this.

Grow up. It's work. Stop being so needy.

Any time I asked a question or told him something hurt me, he used the same few words to shut me down.

In the past, I would've apologized right away and wondered what I had done wrong.

That night, I just nodded. "Okay."

Satisfied that I wasn't going to argue, he turned and headed for the bathroom.

As soon as the shower started, I opened my chat with the curator. A new message waited for me.

[Ms. Perry, are you sure you'd like to accept the two-year film restoration residency at the Hillside Film Archive? You previously declined the offer because of your wedding plans.]

I once gave up an opportunity I had worked toward for years because I thought Eugene and I were building a life together.

Now, I was choosing it for myself.

[Yes. I'd like to accept. Thank you for keeping the offer open.]

The next morning, Eugene realized his camera batteries weren't charged, and his shooting notes weren't laid out on the table like usual.

He searched the apartment, growing more irritated by the second. "Louisa, where's my spare battery?"

I kept packing my film restoration tools without looking up. "I don't know. Find it yourself."

He stopped and stared at me in surprise.

I ignored him and used the refunds from the wedding vendors to cover the cancellation fees one by one.

Eugene always used work as an excuse to leave all the wedding planning to me, so every vendor only had my contact information. That made it easy to cancel everything without involving him.

The venue, the officiant, the transportation. I canceled every last reservation myself.

Then I logged into the studio's employee portal and submitted my resignation.

A confirmation box appeared.

[Are you sure you want to submit your resignation?]

I clicked [Yes].

A moment later, my phone buzzed with an email from Hillside.

[Ms. Perry, we're pleased to confirm your acceptance into the Hillside Film Archive's residency. Orientation begins in seven days.]

I opened our online seating chart and removed myself from the head table.

As far as Eugene knew, the wedding was still going ahead exactly as planned. He just didn't know his bride had already walked away.