Someone Else’s Groom

I had been dating Fiona Hartley for eight years.

At lunch that day, I casually mentioned getting married. I hadn’t even finished my sentence when Fiona slammed her cutlery down on the table with a sharp crack.

She stood up, furious, and shouted at me, "Caleb Morgan, are you really so desperate to trap me with marriage? How can you be this selfish?"

I didn’t understand. We had been together for eight years, and I wanted to get married. What was wrong with that?

I couldn’t help asking her out loud, "Don’t you want to marry me?"

I don’t know which nerve that sentence hit, but Fiona suddenly grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

If a friend hadn’t sent me a video later that night, I wouldn’t even have known that she’d gone out to meet another man.

Watching the video of her dancing closely with him, bodies pressed together, I finally understood why Fiona didn’t want to marry me.

I knew that guy, or rather, everyone in our circle knew him. He was Fiona’s first love, Gavin Rhodes.

I’d heard about them before. In college, they’d been the model couple. People used to see them everywhere together, inseparable. No one knew why they eventually broke up.

Back then, I hadn’t paid much attention. I’d assumed it was just a fleeting infatuation from their student days.

So what if he was her first love? I was the one by her side now.

Now, as I watched the video, the last bit of hope in my heart slowly went out. Fiona’s face seemed to twist and distort in front of my eyes.

I called Fiona.

No answer.

Then the owner of that number sent me a message, dripping with provocation. "Even if you marry her, so what? I'm still the one she loves."

I didn’t reply and quietly blocked the number.

After thinking for a moment, I called Fiona’s best friend, Lena.

The call connected. I got straight to the point. "Fiona is with you right now, isn’t she? Who’s that guy?"

There was silence on the other end. She was clearly guilty.

Then I heard Fiona’s voice in the background. "It’s your turn to drink. Who are you talking to?"

"Work stuff," Lena said in a lowered voice. "I’m hanging up. My phone’s about to die."

"Ten thousand," I said.

"No way! What do you take me for?"

"Fifty thousand. I want everything you know about that man."

"Fine… just don’t say it was me."

I acknowledged it softly.

The call ended.

Almost immediately, my phone started buzzing nonstop. She sent me an Instagram account that belonged to Fiona, one that was private and I had never known about.

I tapped into it.

She posted constantly about what she ate, where she went, and what she read.

Every single post had comments from Gavin.

Fiona: Finally finished it. Knitting a scarf for the one I love.

Gavin: Got the scarf. Too bad he’s at home, or I’d come pick it up.

Fiona: Hmph. Then forget it.

It was a black scarf, the birthday gift Fiona had given me last year. I’d been genuinely moved at the time.

Now I realized it was something Gavin hadn’t wanted, so it ended up with me instead.

I kept scrolling. Then I saw the post that completely froze my heart.

It was on Valentine’s Day the year the pandemic was at its worst. I’d been stuck in a hotel, unable to spend the holiday with Fiona, and she’d been angry with me for a long time.

However, on that day, she posted a mirror selfie of her kissing Gavin. The background was unmistakable. It was a hotel bed.

Ding!

A new post notification popped up.

Fiona had updated again. The caption read, "Saying goodbye to my youth."

Gavin commented, "I hope he treats you well."

I quietly closed my phone and rubbed my temples.