Too Late to Say Yes

My phone buzzed. It was a message from the HR director at the law firm.

[Do you know whether Miss Graham is aware that you're resigning?]

I picked up my phone and headed for the door.

Victoria was still sitting at the dining table, watching me with a strange expression.

After a long hesitation, she finally ventured, "Why didn't you ask me why this time?"

I replied to the HR director before finally sparing Victoria some attention. "There's no point."

I meant it literally.

The first time we'd planned to get our marriage license, her junior associate, Dylan Fletcher, had complained of a stomachache.

I'd waited on a bench outside City Hall from early morning until sunset before finally going home alone.

The second time, Dylan claimed he didn't know how to prepare the case files.

Victoria had left me stranded beside a busy highway, turned the car around, and driven straight back to the law firm without so much as a backward glance.

After that, every time we made plans to get our marriage license, something inevitably happened to Dylan right on schedule.

Six months into our engagement, we'd already gone through the same charade 17 times.

Victoria seemed to choke on my words.

After a moment of silence, she held out her phone to me. "I've noticed that a lot of people hire photographers to follow them around when they get their marriage license these days. Let's hire one too. You love all that romantic ceremony stuff, don't you?"

So she still remembered that I liked making special occasions feel special.

I pondered for a moment before asking, "Are you free tonight? We could grab some—"

I hadn't even gotten the words "farewell dinner" out before her phone rang.

It was Dylan again.

I had no idea what he said on the other end. After she hung up, Victoria looked at me. "Honey, Dylan, he—"

I cut her off with a faint smile, "Go. Be careful on the way."

Victoria froze, apparently surprised by how calm I was today.

But a moment later, she changed her clothes and headed out. "I'll bring you a present when I come home tonight."

The door slammed shut behind her. Before long, I heard a car start downstairs and drive away.

I stood there and stared at the firmly closed door.

"Five years together… Six months engaged… I should've let this relationship go a long time ago."

…

That afternoon, I went to the office and personally handed my resignation letter to HR.

The HR director looked at me with regret and confusion. "You and Miss Graham are the law firm's elite team.

"When you two got engaged six months ago, not only did our boss come to congratulate you, but so many of our clients showed up too. Everyone envied you back then. Why are you suddenly leaving?"

My thoughts drifted back to our engagement party six months ago.

We'd filled 110 tables with guests. A red carpet stretched across the venue, and flowers surrounded us on every side.

Victoria had taken my arm and promised to love me for the rest of our lives.

It really had been lively and beautiful.

Unfortunately, no matter how wonderful it had seemed then, there was no going back now.

…

By the time I finished submitting my resignation paperwork and returned home, it was already past 10:00 p.m.

The house was unusually quiet and completely empty.

Then a social media post from Dylan popped up on my phone. He had tagged me personally.

[Thank you to my mentor for spending the entire afternoon with me. As a little thank-you, I'm taking her to a concert tomorrow.]