The engagement party had been in full swing for quite some time, yet my fiancé was still nowhere to be seen. I tried calling him a countless number of times, but there was no response. It wasn't until I stumbled upon a post from his childhood friend, Elle, that everything became clear:
"Someone's been out on business for days, but as soon as I asked, he's here swimming with me," read her post. The photo showed her and my fiancé posing by the pool. In the background, his tuxedo jacket was tossed aside casually. Faced with a room full of guests, I declared that the engagement was off. After six years of loving him, I was utterly drained.
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Once the guests had left, Jack called. I felt a surge of irritation but inexplicably answered anyway. His voice came through, cold and impatient, "Come pick us up at the Lakeside Club."
I took a breath and replied with an equally detached tone. "I'm nearby." The club was just a stone's throw from the hotel where the engagement was supposed to happen.
"What are you doing nearby?" he asked, confusion quickly replaced by realization. "Ah, I forgot about today. Let's just reschedule the engagement. Come and pick us up."
I didn't reply, so he continued, "It's just an engagement, no need to make a big deal out of it. Hurry up and grab us."
Just an engagement, as if my sincerity, my efforts, and even my family heirloom—the Victorian-style wedding dress—were trivial. He insisted on going on a business trip, promising to return the day before the engagement. Yet when he finally arrived, it was to spend time with Elle instead.
I hung up, feeling a tightness in my chest. Jack had just posted another update on social media:
"My little athlete never misses a workout." The picture was of Elle showing off her figure in a swimsuit by the pool.
A wave of indescribable revulsion washed over me, accompanied by a bitter laugh. It was then that I realized just how unnecessary I had become in this relationship. Six years of persistence crumbled to dust in that moment.
