The Crowolf. When Love Crosses Species.

I turned to leave after watching the last firework fade from the sky, but my fiancee, Cheryl Landeau, yanked me back.

"Nathan, are you trying to embarrass me in front of the whole company?" she snapped. "I already told you that once Jason's mother passes or her condition stabilizes, I'll divorce him. You and I have been together for so many years. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

I stared at the ring on her finger, a bitter taste in my mouth.

Yeah. We'd spent so many years together… yet I still didn't even have the right to call myself her husband.

Cheryl reached for my hand, but I pushed her away.

"I'm fine waiting for you," I said. "A year, two years… even the eight years that I've already wasted. But what I've been waiting for is an answer, Cheryl. And I don't see one.

"It was pouring that day, but I waited for you down here the whole time. I didn't even dare to get an umbrella because I was afraid I'd miss you. And what were you doing then? You were getting hitched to your precious little assistant."

We'd been together for eight years, from our school days through our working years. All I'd ever wanted was a marriage certificate with our names on it.

But to Cheryl, marriage was just a carrot she could dangle above my head.

The 1st time, she said we would get married if I quit my job to help her start her company.

The 2nd time, she said we would get married if I bought us an apartment.

The 50th time, she said we would get married if I helped her assistant, Jason York, take care of his sick mother.

The 78th time, she said we would get married if I could wine and dine clients on Jason's behalf.

The 98th time, she said we would get married if I helped get the company listed on the stock market.

Cheryl said 99 was a lucky number. As long as I completed all 99 of her conditions, she promised we would get married.

For that promise, I'd given up a permanent, stable job at a state-owned company and squeezed into a tiny rental next to her company.

Every day, I dealt with the reports Jason had missed and smiled my way through dinners with clients, drinking until my stomach bled.

The 99th time, she said we would get married if I picked her up downstairs at her office building.

That day, I started waiting for her before dawn. I waited and waited, not even budging when the rain came down hard. I was afraid she wouldn't be able to spot me right away.

I didn't even dare get an umbrella. I was terrified that the second I turned my back, I would miss her.

I stood in front of the office building, watching the crowds rush past. Everyone looked like they were in a hurry, and they stared at me like I was crazy.

But I didn't care. Cheryl was finally going to marry me.

I kept telling myself to wait just a little longer… and a little longer after that. She would show up. She had to.

Time crawled by, but she still didn't appear. Fever burned through me, making my head spin, but I didn't dare leave. I was afraid that if I took even one step away, I would never see her again.

In the end, I collapsed on the sidewalk. Someone had me taken to the hospital.

When I woke up and checked my phone, the first thing I saw was a marriage certificate with Cheryl's and Jason's names on it.

I didn't remember how I got through that night. All I knew was that my pillow was soaked when I woke up again. In that moment, I finally understood that someone who truly loved another wouldn't make them jump through that many hoops.

I snapped back to the present. Cheryl was still ranting at me.

"Are you that petty, Nathan?" she asked coldly. "We're just putting on an act! Why are you taking it so personally when Jason and I are just doing this for some dying old woman?"

She scoffed. "Besides, I promised I'd marry you. It's not like I've changed my mind about that."

I looked her straight in the eye. "I'll come in and submit my resignation in a couple of days. Remember to approve it."

Without waiting for a reply, I turned, got in my car, and headed home.