The Man I Used to Forget Love CHAPTER 1

Standing at the threshold of the flat that she had sacrificed all her extra hours, missed meals and hard work to purchase was Rica Bloom when the only future that she had made for herself in five years came crumbling down right in front of her.

Lights in the living room were dimly lit. The soft notes of jazz music flowed from the speaker system that she had handpicked after many days of listening. On the couch where the scent of fabric protection spray lingered, the hands of her fiancé were entangled in the hair of another woman while he kissed her neck. Diamond bracelet on her wrists shone in the light – just like the one that Rica had secretly admired in the jewelry shop window but decided that they couldn’t afford.

“Liam.”

Her voice broke the silence in the flat as if throwing a stone in a pond. He instantly got up, followed by Jessica, his secretary from his office who always brought him coffee with too much cream. Liam’s shirt was unbuttoned and the belt undone. There was no guilt in his face, just calculations ready to become another lie.

“Rica. You’re early. I can explain..”

"Don't." Her voice remained even, which somehow made it all worse. "Five years. I did my best to do double shifts so that you could get your degree without debts. I passed on the transfer to Chicago since you wanted us to make our lives in New York. I counted every cent just so that you could appear successful in front of those who matter. And this is the night before our wedding."

Jessica mumbled something about walking out of the apartment and walked right past Rica, never making eye contact. The door shut with a click and silence followed. Liam stood up, raising his hands as if dealing with a frightened animal.

"It didn't mean anything. Stress. It was the wedding. You know how hard I've been working to make partner..."

"You gave her diamonds." Rica's hands went to the engagement ring which he had put on her eighteen months ago. "It was a modest one, I remember you telling me that all we could afford was that one. And you told me everything will be different once you get to be a partner..."

“Rica, listen..”

She slipped the ring off and placed it on the small table by the door that she had stained herself during a Sunday afternoon when he was studying. “I am listening. I have been listening for five years. That is all I can do anymore.”

He approached her. “But you cannot just leave me like this. We have a wedding scheduled tomorrow. My parents, the deposit..”

“Let your parents keep the deposit. Give them some explanation that will let you sleep at night. Let them know I chickened out. Or maybe that I wasn’t worthy enough.” Something in his face changed. “You are being overdramatic. People make mistakes.”

“We were.” She grabbed the small overnight bag she had left by the door, which was packed for the hotel room she was supposed to stay in with her after the rehearsal dinner. “Now we’re not.”

She went out.The aroma of someone else’s cooking could be smelt from where she was. Getting down the elevator was taking far too much time to get her to ground level. By then, the bustling city had swallowed the noise of the sound of her shutting the door behind her. She did not weep in the streets. She did not call anyone either. She only stood there under the awning of the building she had once regarded as her home knowing in certainty which was very physical that the forever girl was no more.

Five years. A multitude of sacrifices. Just one lie.

She got a taxi that would take her to an expensive hotel in midtown Manhattan she could never afford. She used cash to book herself three nights at the hotel. After booking into the hotel room, she sat on the edge of the bed and deleted all traces of the wedding group chat, their calendar and the pictures titled Rica & Liam from her phone. And she wrote a new note with two words:

Never again.

Meanwhile, outside her window the city never stopped. But inside her heart something finally gave up on him coming after her.

He didn’t.

The night dragged on. Sleep eluded her. She stayed fully dressed in the hotel bed and stared at the ceiling, running everything through her mind again – all those quiet moments she’d thought were the foundation of their life together: the days she’d come home tired after working double shifts but made dinner for him anyway; the mornings she’d gotten up early and ironed his shirts; the nights when she would calculate how long their current funds would last until the partnership kicked in.

She thought back to the night he asked her to marry him eighteen months ago, a small, romantic restaurant, the candlelit glow, even the small ring already warming on his hand. He talked about partnership, about future, about how their life would grow. She listened to everything that he said because she needed to. There was no other way of believing in love.

Love was now the only thing that made sense to her.

It was 2:17 a.m. when his name flashed on her phone. She did not pick up. Instead, a minute after that, she got a text from him saying, We need to talk. Please. Don’t make me do this night before.

She didn’t answer. She deleted the text. She blocked his number. It seemed savage but necessary.

Then at 3:04 a.m., she received another text from an unknown number. Jessica’s, perhaps: I’m so sorry. It was never meant to..

Blocked the number too.

Dawn came bleak and reluctant. Rica took a shower in tepid water, wore the same clothes she was wearing last night, and sat at the small table by the window. The city was bustling even before dawn. She switched on her laptop the one she had bought out of overtime pay after two years of marriage and got down to the business of dissembling a life.

She emailed the florist, the caterer, and the venue. Her emails were short and straightforward and needed no explanations. The wedding was off. You can keep the deposit as a cancellation f*e. She didn’t want her money back. She just wanted to be done with it.

Her mother called. She stared at the caller ID until the phone call ended. And then there was the voicemail, which she erased without listening to it.

It was sometime in the middle of the day that the hotel room became too small. So she walked around the city streets that they used to walk together, being completely ignored by the city. It was this very thing that made the city cruel yet beautiful.

And there she found herself in front of the jewelry shop in which she used to stand looking at the diamond bracelet on display. There inside the shop were jewelry items similar to those glittering in the soft lighting. She stood there and watched her own reflection in the window. The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked smaller, older, especially in her eyes.

In the afternoon she booked herself a one-way ticket to Chicago for the next week - the offer she used to turn down. The company left the place empty for much longer than anticipated; the email about accepting it came in with a professional calmness of pure oxygen.

She returned to the hotel as darkness set. Everything was still the same. She ordered dinner for room service she barely tasted, sitting on the bed like before, her suitcase lying unopened on the floor.

Her phone was quiet. No more messages, no more calls. Silence spoke louder than any words ever could.

There was a console table that she has sandpapered, there were speakers she has chosen, there was a stain repellent she has asked for. All these small acts of thoughtfulness that somehow built the very structure of their life together. Only now she understood how wrong she was.

Liam stood in the hallway, still in the same shirt, the calculation finally stripped from his face. What remained looked almost like fear.

She opened the door but did not step aside.

“Rica.” His voice was rough. “Please. Just let me talk.”

“You had five years to talk. You chose silence when it mattered and noise when it didn’t.”

He flinched. “I made a mistake. A terrible one. But we can fix this. The wedding my parents are already in the city. The partners from the firm are coming. If we cancel now..”

“Then cancel.”