The Other "I Do"
On the day we were supposed to get married, my girlfriend blew me off again, saying she was too busy.
When I got home, there was a marriage certificate waiting for me in the mailbox—hers and her male assistant's. The date filed was today.
I gave a small, bitter smile, set the certificate down on my desk, turned around, and ended things with her.
The next second, my phone rang.
Her annoyed voice came through right away.
"Patrick, what is your problem? Why are you throwing a tantrum? You're a grown man—act like one."
Before I could even say anything, I heard her assistant sobbing in the background.
"Olivia, do you think Patrick got the wrong idea? You should go home. I'll be fine on my own."
"Forget about him. He always pulls stuff like this—I'm so tired of it. You're the one who matters right now."
The sound of my girlfriend gently comforting another man cut right through me.
The call ended, and so did any last shred of hope I had left.