Upon returning for Professor Forrest Morris's birthday party, I was surprised to find my ex-boyfriend, Yisroel Parker, protecting me from drinking too much. Amid the guests' playful teasing, Yisroel awkwardly produced a marriage license. Kneeling before me with sincere emotion, he confessed his presence today was to propose.
Everyone expected me to seize the moment and dash to the courthouse with him. After all, I had pursued him ardently for ten long years. But they forgot how Yisroel had once wrongfully accused me due to a rumor spread by a fellow student, Amelie Thomas. Or how he mocked my grandfather, Pierce Henry, at his birthday celebration, enraging him so much that he suffered a stroke. The subsequent online harassment nearly drove me to despair.
Now, my old college friend, Ozzy Fox, looked at me admiringly. "Yisroel gave up his dreams and knelt for a whole day before his parents to switch his major to medicine, just to treat your grandfather. He's been waiting for you these four years you’ve been away. Isn’t it time to forgive him?" he said.
"Katherine," he added with a grin, "if you don't hurry up and say yes, the courthouse will close at five!"
I smiled slightly, shaking off the hands pushing me toward Yisroel. After four years abroad, I had severed my ties with my old circles. It was no surprise they didn’t know I was already married.
"Marriage is a serious matter," I said coolly. "It's not something to joke about."
As Yisroel's marriage license slipped to the floor, it opened, revealing familiar handwriting. It marked the day we had started dating, with bold letters below saying, "Yisroel Parker is finally with me!"
From the moment I met Yisroel, everyone knew of my infatuation. On my eighteenth birthday, I began my daring pursuit. Even though he blushed red and fled from each confession, Yisroel showed he cared in other ways. He remembered I liked my coffee with two sugars and hated garlic-flavored chicken. He would brave rainstorms to pick me up from part-time jobs or cross half the city on Thanksgiving to sing a birthday song under my window.
Afraid I'd get jealous, he'd awkwardly declare he didn't like girls, which led to endless teasing from his dorm mates. It was clear to everyone I liked him, and his special treatment of me was just as evident. Yet, he never officially responded to my declarations of love, claiming I was like a star—dazzling and out of reach. Still, he couldn’t bear the idea of anyone else having me.
With determination, we finally got together. On that day, he gave me the keys to his apartment and his marriage license, promising I would be his only one for life. But that promise didn't last the summer.
Yisroel had taken a tutoring job and met Amelie Thomas, a sophomore from our college. Initially, I paid little attention and even offered Amelie advice on university life. Soon, I realized what she truly learned from me was how to pursue Yisroel herself. Amelie's presence led to fewer dates and more arguments between Yisroel and me. No more coffee deliveries; instead, I got lectures on maintaining my figure.
On our one-year anniversary, I prepared a surprise, but all I received was a curt message: he couldn't make it. Assuming he was busy with tutoring, I went to his location only to find him guiding Amelie's hands on the piano, their fingers intertwined as he kissed her cheek. As onlookers teased them, Yisroel only smiled in agreement.
Tears fell as I rushed to the piano in a fit of anger. Amelie shrieked, seeking refuge in Yisroel's embrace, while he regarded me with an indifferent gaze that wounded my pride.
"Yisroel, have you been spending this time falling for someone else?" I demanded.
Shielding Amelie, he coldly replied, "Katherine, I don’t want to waste time explaining things to you. If you’re here only to throw wild accusations at Amelie, you should leave. Don’t dampen everyone’s spirits."
I clenched my jaw, trembling with emotion. He never forgot our anniversaries or rebuked me for anyone. But now, because of Amelie, everything was different.
Running into the hallway, I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Yisroel caught me by the elevator, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry, Katherine. I shouldn't have treated you like that."
I turned my back to him, refusing to look.
With a sigh, he placed a beautifully wrapped gift before me. "I might forget many things, but not our anniversary. Amelie's exams are coming up, and she needed help with a piece. I planned to join you afterward, but you came running, just as impulsive as ever."
I glared at his hands. "But you were holding her hand..."
Laughing softly, he pulled out a wipe, thoroughly cleaning his hands. "Does this satisfy you? She had no prior knowledge. It was the only way to teach her."
Gripping his fingers, I was about to speak when Amelie approached, face pale with anxiety. "Katherine, it’s because of me that he’s been busy. I'm sorry for messing up your plans. Don't be mad at him."
Before I could respond, whispers arose around us.
"She really thinks she's some kind of princess. Yisroel must be exhausted with a girlfriend like that."
"Amelie suits him better, considering everything she does for him. And this woman storms in, making a scene, without feeling embarrassed at all."
"She must’ve been giving Amelie trouble, no wonder she’s been down recently."
At these words, Amelie shook her head, eyes red. "Katherine only misunderstood because we spend time together. Please don’t blame her..."
Her remarks solidified their assumptions. Though furious and eager to explain, Yisroel dragged me away. Outside, I tore away from his grip, tears flowing freely.
"Why didn’t you let me explain? I’ve never bullied Amelie!"
Patiently, he wiped my tears again and again. "Amelie's exams are near—I don’t want anything stressing her."
Brushing off false accusations for her sake hurt. I wanted to ask his true feelings, yet the words caught in my throat.
Yisroel stayed until midnight; we spent our anniversary together, yet I felt no joy. He spent the night texting Amelie, speaking to me less than ten times.
Unable to sleep, I lay awake, puzzled over what had come between us.
I didn’t see Yisroel for two weeks until he appeared again in Amelie's social media post. They shared a drink, celebrating her successful exams. He gifted her a piano, wore a childish watch she’d given him, and played "Love's Remembrance" by her side.
Just as I closed my phone, Amelie texted me a cheeky emoji. "I may have met him later, but he’s mine now. Our souls match perfectly."
