Fading Years, Drifting Apart

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Right in the middle of our wedding preparations, my fianc had to leave for a last-minute business trip. That night, we were on a FaceTime call.

We were just going over the catering progress when the doorbell to his hotel room chimed.

The door opened. A woman strolled into the frame, holding a bottle of Cabernet and two wine glasses. Without missing a beat, she playfully hooked her arm around his neck.

"Finally managed to catch you. Drink with me."

James was forced to bend awkwardly under her grip. He looked at the screen with a helpless, apologetic smile.

"Irene, let me introduce you. This is Sloane. We sat next to each other for three years in high school."

The woman did not let go. She just leaned in closer, peering at me through the screen.

"Oh wow. Hey there, future wifey."

I offered a polite, totally detached smile.

"Hello."

"Please take your arm off him."

Sloanes smile froze for a split second before morphing into exaggerated shock.

"Whoa, James! The one you bagged this time is pretty fierce, huh?"

James hurriedly ducked out from under her arm, stepping toward the phone to explain.

"Irene, do not misunderstand. Sloane and I are practically frat brothers. This is just how she is."

"Yeah exactly!" She laughed, totally unbothered. "I practically raised this guy. I am basically his wingman. A bro does not have inappropriate thoughts about her own buddy. Am I right?"

She grinned shamelessly. James let out a helpless chuckle and kept defending her.

"It is just a huge coincidence. Sloane happens to be one of the project managers for the company I am partnering with this week."

I knew this contract was massive for Jamess firm.

So, despite the bitter taste pooling in the back of my throat, I sat completely still and kept my mouth shut.

Sloane casually pulled out a corkscrew, twisting it into the wine bottle as she completely changed the subject.

"Oh, by the way, James. You have been a ghost in our fitness group chat lately. It has been forever since you dropped an abs pic for our approval."

I knew about that group chat.

James had told me it was strictly a guys-only chat where his buddies posted their post-workout progress.

Turns out, she was in it too.

"Planning a wedding takes up all my free time," James replied. "I barely have time to hit the gym."

"Pfft. Who told you to get married so young anyway?"

James looked through the screen at me, a flicker of genuine tenderness in his eyes.

"Irene has been by my side for three years. It is time I gave her a real home."

The female voice entirely ruined the moment.

"Wow, you say that like I was not by your side for three years! If I knew you were handing out rings, I would have shamelessly demanded you give me a home right after graduation!"

James just laughed and shook his head.

"Stop messing around."

A cold scoff escaped my lips. The sickening discomfort in my chest was growing impossible to ignore.

On the screen, Sloane could not pop the cork. She casually handed the bottle to James.

He took it naturally, popping the cork with practiced ease. Sloane beamed at him.

"Not bad, your workouts are paying off. Hey, check out my progress. Are my lines getting better?"

She took a few steps back, posing in her low-cut silk slip dress, looking at him with absolute expectation.

James smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, looking good."

"Do not just look, feel it. I am telling you, I gained a lot of muscle lately, especially in my thighs."

She actually reached out, grabbing Jamess hand and trying to pull it toward her leg.

"Come on, do not be shy. I am the one letting you cop a feel, not the other way around..."

My eyes turned glacial, but I maintained a terrifyingly polite tone.

"Sloane, was it?"

"Why do you not head back to your room? You can save the drinking for another time. We are busy tonight, so this is really inconvenient."

Maybe my tone was a little too composed.

Sloane dropped his hand, but she made zero effort to leave. Instead, she looked at me with a mocking smirk.

"Future wifey, we are just friends joking around. Are you seriously kicking me out?"

James instantly jumped in to back her up.

"Yeah, Irene. I basically view Sloane as another guy. It really is not what you think."

I looked at the very obvious curves pressing against Sloanes thin silk slip, and I actually let out a laugh.

"What kind of man walks into another person's hotel room late at night wearing a low-cut silk negligee?"

"Oh, wait. I get it. You are a cross-dressing gay man, right?"

I looked at James with absolute, feigned seriousness.

"Well, you cannot do that either, James. You are in danger too."

The air in the room instantly froze.

Watching the smiles get wiped clean off both their faces, the corners of my mouth curled up higher.

"Oh, come on. Just a joke. Sloane, you are a guy, right? Surely a tough bro like you would not hold a grudge against a woman over a little joke?"

I blinked innocently at Sloane, whose face was turning a violent shade of red.

But it was James who spoke first.

"Irene. That joke crossed a line."

I feigned total shock.

"How could it? I was just playing along with your narrative. Are guys really this sensitive?"

Seeing Jamess face darken, Sloane took a step forward, completely dropping the act.

"Giving me an attitude the very first time we meet. Are you trying to put me in my place?"

I batted my eyelashes, keeping my voice sweet.

"No, not at all. Why do you jump to conclusions so easily? I was just joking. Was it not funny?"

The second the words left my mouth, Sloane's eyes filled with tears.

"Fine. Fine, I am leaving. James, do not make things hard on yourself just because of me."

She turned and marched out of the room.

The moment the door slammed shut, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the screen.

James rubbed his temples and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"She is literally just a friend. Why did you have to overreact like that?"

"So what you are saying is, I should just sit here quietly and become a prop in your little roleplay?"

"Irene! Can you please stop speaking to me so aggressively all the time!"

Always.

I laughed softly.

Silence stretched across the connection. His jaw was clenched tight, refusing to say another word.

The doorbell rang again.

It was the late-night takeout I had ordered for him.

He brought the food back to the desk. Just like he always did, he softened his tone first.

"Look. We are getting married. Stop overthinking things, okay?"

"I am going to go take a shower. You take a minute to cool off. I will call you right back."

The call ended. I sat on my couch, organizing my thoughts, figuring out exactly how to calmly communicate my boundaries when he called back.

But midnight came and went. No call.

James never broke a promise.

When my calls and texts went completely unanswered, a rare spike of genuine panic hit my chest.

I looked at the massive canvas wedding portrait hanging on our living room wall. Sleep was impossible.

A minute later, I grabbed my car keys and headed for the elevator.

I do not know what possessed me. I just knew I had to go see for myself.

Four and a half hours later, my car pulled into the parking lot of Jamess hotel.

I sat behind the wheel, staring up at the pitch-black sky, closing my burning eyes.

If you had asked me three years ago, I never would have believed I could lose my mind over a man like this.

Exhausted from the overnight drive, I walked into the lobby, planning to book a room and sleep for a few hours.

But the moment I approached the front desk, I saw them.

James and Sloane, dressed in matching athletic wear, laughing together as they walked through the lobby and out the sliding glass doors.

Catching my intense stare, the receptionist smiled helpfully.

"They are heading out to catch the sunrise. The peak nearby is famous for it. If you have time, miss, you should really check it out..."

She did not even finish her sentence before I muttered a quick thanks and hurried after them.

They were completely engrossed in their conversation.

Because there were dozens of other tourists on the trail, they had absolutely no idea I was walking right behind them.

I raised my hand, fully intending to call out Jamess name. But Sloanes voice drifted back to me.

"...There is literally nothing I can eat on your wedding menu. Did you forget I am highly allergic to shellfish?"

James nodded instantly.

"Circle everything you cannot eat later. I will have the caterer swap the dishes out."

My hand froze in mid-air.

I had attended three separate tastings and coordinated endlessly with our VIP guests to finalize that menu.

And now, because Sloane complained, he was scrapping it without a second thought.

"Aww, look at you being so sweet. Aren't you worried she is going to throw a fit?"

Jamess voice was laced with a smile, but the words he spoke turned my blood to absolute ice.

"She lost her parents when she was young. Her personality can be a bit extreme and paranoid. Just try to tolerate her."

I stared at the back of the man standing less than two feet away from me. A sharp, stinging burn hit the back of my nose.

In the three years we dated, James knew my deepest, most agonizing trauma was being orphaned.

He had sworn to me that he would spend the rest of his life making up for all the love I had been denied.

But right here, right now, he casually handed over my deepest vulnerability for another woman to mock.

Predictably, Sloane let out a cruel sneer.

"Oh, so she is an orphan. And here I thought she was some spoiled heiress with the way she was disrespecting me."

James did not defend me. He just kept feeding into her narrative.

"She was out of line yesterday, I know. That is why I deliberately left her on read last night. I guarantee she did not sleep a wink."

"Consider it my way of punishing her for you. Be the bigger person and let it go."

Sloane sounded incredibly smug.

"Well, I am not a petty person. As long as you drink with me like you did last night, we are cool."

"Whenever you want, I am there."

"You said it! No taking it back!"

My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms they almost broke the skin, but I felt absolutely nothing.

So he did not forget. He did not fall asleep.

He deliberately tortured me with anxiety all night just to appease Sloane.

As their voices faded into the crisp morning air, I stopped walking.

I stood there until the stinging in my eyes faded. Then, I turned around and walked back down the mountain.

I had my answer. Following them to the peak was entirely pointless.

On the hike down, my legs gave out from sheer exhaustion, and I nearly face-planted into the dirt.

By the time I dragged myself into the driver's seat, I looked like an absolute wreck. I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror and let out a dry, pathetic laugh.

Three years ago, Jamess gentle, relentless pursuit broke through my walls.

My friends told me I had turned into a completely different person.

I used to worship my independence. Now, I willingly spent my evenings trying new recipes for him.

I used to be completely untouchable. Now, I practically purred over the phone when he called.

Most shockingly, the girl who swore she would never get married was suddenly planning a wedding.

They warned me I was letting love make me stupid.

I laughed them off.

I thought because my career was thriving, I still held all the power.

I genuinely believed I was the one in control.

Until this exact moment.

Looking at the dark circles under my eyes and the mud on my expensive boots, every red flag I had actively ignored suddenly came into sharp focus.

Three months ago, when James proposed, I turned down a massive promotion that required relocation.

My friends were furious. But I convinced myself that careers could be rebuilt, while true love only comes around once.

I threw myself entirely into planning the wedding.

In the beginning, James was fully invested. He went dress shopping. He picked out the photographer.

Slowly, he got "busy." He would leave appointments halfway through to take work calls.

Eventually, his mother took his place entirely, and he went back to living like a bachelor.

Meanwhile, I was constantly using up my vacation days to meet with vendors.

I had been compromising my entire life away without even realizing it.

As I sat there completely numb, my phone suddenly rang through the cars Bluetooth.

Jamess voice filled the cabin.

"Irene, the wedding planner just called me. They said they cannot reach you. You booked your bridal makeup trial for today, and the stylist is already waiting at our door..."

He must have been standing at the summit. The howling wind battered the microphone, making the audio crackle.

In the background, I could hear people cheering.

"Wow, the sun is up!"

"It is gorgeous! Take a picture!"

It was so incredibly loud.

Staring at the blinding rays of dawn breaking over the horizon, my voice was dead calm.

"James, the wedding is canceled."

"What?"

He seemed to step away into a quieter spot. His voice came through clearer.

"Irene, I did not catch that. I am hiking with a client right now, it is pretty loud."

Right. Because Sloane was his client.

I had zero intention of arguing with him.

"I will handle the wedding planner. Go back to work."

I was about to end the call when his voice spiked with sudden, nervous energy.

Clearly, my freezing tone finally registered.

"Are you still mad? Last night I took a shower and just passed out. I swear I did not ignore you on purpose. And when I woke up, it was so early, I knew you were a light sleeper so I did not want to wake you..."

He was always so attentive. So detail-oriented.

Turns out he applied that same skill to lying.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave a vague, dismissive hum.

James did not sense the absolute finality in my silence. He would have kept talking, but a high-pitched, whiny voice cut him off.

"Come here! The good light is almost gone!"

It was far away, but it was unmistakable.

It did not matter anymore.

I hung up the phone.

I slumped back against the leather seat, taking a few minutes to force my heart rate down.

Then, I called the wedding planner, apologized profusely, paid the stylist a cancellation fee, and told them to go home.

Without resting, I put the car in drive and sped straight back to the house James and I shared.

Since the wedding was off, there was a mountain of shared assets and personal belongings I needed to deal with. I wanted it done immediately.

But I completely underestimated what the physical and emotional toll had done to my body. Halfway home, a massive fever hit me like a truck.

I dragged my burning body into the apartment and collapsed into bed, slipping into a dark, suffocating sleep.

I had so many nightmares.

I dreamed of the night my parents died in the crash. The rain was so freezing cold.

Then I was back in the orphanage. The porridge was always scalding hot, but the caretakers would scream at us to eat it faster.

Then middle school. A kid told me I was unwanted trash. I lunged at him, ready to tear his face off.

But when the boy turned around, it was James. He was smiling.

"Look at you, Irene. Nobody wants you."

My entire world collapsed into an endless, dark void.

I cried endlessly.

But no sound came out.

...

I do not know how much time passed. The relentless buzzing of my phone finally pulled me out of the dark. I slowly forced my eyes open.

My screen was flooded.

Confirmation sketches from the custom jeweler.

The finalized catering contract from the hotel manager.

And a barrage of missed calls and texts from Jamess mother.

But the most messages were from James himself.

"Irene, the planner said you canceled the trial. Did something go wrong?"

"My mom said you two were supposed to pay the venue deposit today. She cannot reach you. Where are you?"

"Pick up the phone."

...

"I asked the building management to check if your car is in the garage. If it is, I am having them unlock the door to make sure you are okay."

That last message was sent two minutes ago.

James knew I never disappeared without a word. I never broke commitments.

That was why he was panicking.

I frowned, pushing myself up, and dialed his number.

He picked up on the first ring, his voice frantic.

"Irene? Where are you?"

"I am fine. I just caught a bug and slept through the day. Tell building management to stand down."

"You are sick? Did you go to the doctor?"

"No need. I am better. When are you coming back? We need to talk."

He hesitated for a second.

A sharp, familiar voice suddenly invaded the call.

"Oh wow, she is sick? Then we definitely need to hurry back."

"A delicate little housewife like her cannot just push through it like us career women. She needs to be coddled."

I listened to Sloanes aggressive sarcasm with absolute ice in my veins.

It was a shame she was not standing in front of me, or I would have taught her some manners with the back of my hand.

James coughed awkwardly. "Irene, get some rest. I will be home soon."

I ended the call, took a hot shower, forced down some takeout, and went back to sleep.

When I finally heard the front door click open, the sun had already set.

James pushed the bedroom door open quietly. I sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.

The warm light illuminated his exhausted face. He had clearly rushed all the way back. His voice was incredibly gentle.

"Did I wake you?"

Looking at his worried eyes, I had to admit that tearing this love out of my chest was going to take a little time.

I shook my head. I opened my mouth to speak, but a head popped into the doorway.

"Oh, you are still in bed?"

Meeting Sloanes mocking gaze, the last lingering shreds of affection in my eyes vaporized instantly.

I turned my head to stare at James.

He immediately started explaining.

"Sloane has some business to handle in the city. She does not know anyone here, so I figured she could crash with us for a few days."

"Crash where?"

"We have a guest room, right?"

"A guest room?" My voice was lethal. "You mean the nursery?"

Aside from the master bedroom, the only other rooms with beds were my home office and Jamess gym.

And the nursery. When he first suggested converting the spare room into a nursery, I was entirely against it.

The responsibility of raising a child terrified me. I was not ready.

But James dragged me to furniture stores. We picked out the ceiling lights, the plush rugs, the exact shade of pastel paint...

His endless patience and excitement slowly broke down my walls.

He told me he did not care if it was a boy or a girl, as long as they looked exactly like me.

Eventually, I actually started looking forward to it.

And now, he was handing that room over to Sloane.

Hearing my tone, James frowned in disapproval.