
Your World Cup, Not Mine AnymoreMy fiancé Gavin decides by drawing lots whether I or his childhood friend Chloe gets to accompany him to the World Cup.
In our twelve years together, Chloe won the chance to accompany him to both previous World Cups.
Each time, he’d gently coax me:
"The draw chose Chloe. I can’t go back on it, can I?"
"Next time, no drawing lots. I promise I’ll go with you."
I believed him and waited four years.
This year, I excitedly bought new sunscreen and packed my luggage early because he said that, after the World Cup, we’d go to the Maldives for an early honeymoon.
I was full of anticipation, but when we were about to leave, my fiancé froze.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with guilt once again:
"Chloe’s birthday wish was to accompany me to one more World Cup. This time, I’m still going with her."
"I’m sorry, babe. Next time, I promise I’ll go with you."
My heart suddenly clenched, and I stood there in silence.
Meanwhile, he was meticulously planning the trip, even thoughtfully packing pads for the other woman.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I called my company’s director:
"I’ll take the overseas assignment to Northern Europe."