Your Tears Cant Melt My Ice

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At the party, my girlfriend lost a game of Truth or Dare.

Someone in the crowd jeered, daring her to list ten things she loved about my best friend, Jared.

Lauren didnt even hesitate.

Hes outgoing. Extremely handsome. In great shape. He knows exactly how to charm people.

Hes always smiling, highly intuitive, driven, and he has incredible taste.

"Oh, and... hes really good with his hands."

The room erupted into hoots and catcalls, with a few stray, pitying glances darting toward me.

For the next round, Jared grinned, throwing the question right back at her.

"So, what about Connor? What are his best qualities?"

Lauren looked at me. She froze for a few seconds.

Finally, she managed just one word.

"Steady."

Someone laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension. "And? What else?"

Lauren frowned, appearing to search her mind in earnest.

But she couldnt find a second thing to say.

In that excruciating silence, a profound exhaustion settled over me.

Lauren and I had been together for seven years. Our wedding was next week.

Yet, after searching her mind so desperately, the only virtue she could find in me was that I was "steady".

This time, I didnt want to be the steady one anymore.

I was about to slip out when someone slammed a hand on the table.

"Dont go yet, Connor! Last round."

"Lets do something messy. Lets see who has the most text exchanges on their phone."

Jared slid his phone onto the table with a lighthearted laugh.

"Sure, why not? Ive got nothing to hide."

But when the screen compiled the results, the private room fell dead silent.

The contact Lauren texted the most wasnt me.

It was Jared.

A couple of people let out awkward, forced chuckles.

"Well... looks like Lauren and Jared have a lot to talk about."

Jared blinked, his tone breezy and effortless.

"Hey, its not what you think. Connor is always so swamped, you know? He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Lauren gets stressed sometimes, and she just needs someone to vent to."

As he spoke, his finger accidentallyor perhaps intentionallytapped into one of their chat threads.

A message Lauren had sent him popped up on the screen.

"Connor is obsessing over the wedding itinerary again."

"Hes taking this way too seriously."

Jareds reply: "Hes just wound too tight. Unlike megetting married should actually be fun."

Lauren: "Exactly. Talking to you is so much easier than talking to him."

My chest tightened, a slow, cold ache spreading through my ribs.

Then, the screen scrolled to another thread.

Lauren: "Connor is wearing that white suit again today."

"Does he actually think he looks good in white?"

Jared: "Aww, dont be mean to him."

"But yeah, its not really his look. A bit stiff."

Lauren: "Right? Youd look way better in it."

The room went entirely quiet.

I stood frozen, a thick lump forming in my throat. A quiet, searing humiliation washed over me, making even the act of breathing feel heavy.

All my quiet anticipation, the nervous excitement I felt when trying on my wedding suit... to Lauren, it was nothing more than cheap gossip to share with Jared over a laugh.

Jared walked over, throwing a familiar arm around my shoulder.

"Hey, Connor, dont be mad. If she were talking to anyone else like this, Id kick her butt for you. But Im your best friend." He tilted his head, giving me a look of pure innocence. "Im just looking out for her for you. Isnt that a good thing?"

I stared at the hand resting on my shoulder.

On his wrist was a watch. It looked incredibly familiar.

A few days ago, Lauren had sent me a photo of it while she was away on a business trip, asking if I liked it.

I had stared at that photo for a long time, my heart racing with quiet joy as I typed back: "I love it."

I thought it was a surprise she was bringing home for me. I had even planned to act surprised, to playfully ask if shed brought me anything back.

But I had waited for days, and the surprise never came.

Now, it was strapped to Jareds wrist.

I slowly pulled my shoulder out of his grip.

Jareds face flushed, a look of wounded disbelief taking over.

"Connor, do you seriously not even trust me?"

Lauren finally creased her brow.

"Connor. Everyone is just playing a game. Dont be so sensitive."

Hearing those words, the anger drained right out of me, leaving behind only a hollow emptiness.

I stood up, my voice barely a whisper.

"Im tired. Im going home."

I made it to the door before realizing Id left my coat on the back of the sofa.

When I turned back to retrieve it, the heavy wooden door of the private room wasnt shut completely.

Through the crack, I heard a hushed voice advising her.

"Lauren, are you seriously not going after him? Connor looked ghost-white."

Lauren paused for a second, her voice carrying an infuriating certainty.

"He wont actually stay mad. Hes too sensible. He just needs a night to sleep it off."

My hand froze on the brass handle.

Then she added, "Jared, on the other hand, looked so uncomfortable with everyone teasing him. I need to go cheer him up."

My fingers went entirely numb against the cold metal.

"Sensible." A word that felt like a blunt knife. No blood, just a dull, agonizing sawing against my heart.

I didnt go back inside. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was our wedding coordinator.

"Mr. Davis, are you sure you want to cancel the wedding? Youve spent over six months curating this entire plan. From the floral arrangements to the lighting, the invitations to the seating cards, you hand-selected every single detail. It would be such a shame to let it all go."

I stared at the digital renderings he had sent.

I remembered how, in the beginning, I had wanted a wedding filled with white camellias.

But Lauren had taken one look at the design and said, "Jared says camellias look too washed out. A wedding should feel alive."

So, the camellias were replaced with red rosesJareds favorite.

I had wanted soft, warm gold lighting.

Lauren had countered, "Jared says sunset orange photographs better."

I had wanted minimalist, textured paper for the invitations.

Lauren had said, "Lets just trust Jared on this. He has incredible taste."

Only now did the truth finally settle in.

The wedding I had spent half a year meticulously planning had been slowly, systematically reshaped into Jareds dream.

And I, the groom, was nothing more than a placeholder name on the invitation.

The coordinator sent another text.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to cancel?"

I looked at the rendering of a wedding that no longer belonged to me, and a dry laugh escaped my throat.

I typed back:

"Yes. Cancel it. I will cover any cancellation fees."

When I got back to the apartment, I started packing.

We had chosen this place together. Lauren had promised me that after a long day at work, the entryway light would always be on, a hot pot of soup would be waiting on the stove, and we would grow my beloved camellias on the balcony.

It had sounded like a dream.

But standing in the quiet of the living room, I realized the space was already saturated with Jared.

The fridge was packed with his favorite peach seltzers.

His discarded jacket lay draped over our sofa.

Even the best man's suit hanging next to mine in the closet looked more bespoke, more cared-for, than my own wedding tuxedo.

I stood in the closet, staring at the two garments hanging side by side.

A bitter ache swelled in my chest.

The wedding hadnt even happened yet, but Lauren had already systematically replaced me with Jared in every corner of her life.

I didnt cry.

I simply retrieved my suitcase and began packing my documents, my passport, and a few essential clothes.

Halfway through, the front door clicked open.

Lauren was home.

She was carrying a small boutique bag, her tone carrying a gentle, placating warmth.

"Hey, baby. Dont be mad anymore, okay? I was passing by the store and saw these. I remembered you saying you liked obsidian."

She opened a small velvet box to reveal a pair of obsidian cufflinks.

I did love obsidian.

Years ago, I had stared at a pair through a shop window for a long time, ultimately walking away because they were far too expensive for our budget back then. Lauren had squeezed my hand and laughed, promising, "When we get married, Ill buy you an even better pair."

Now she had bought them. But she had bought cufflinks.

I never wore French cuff shirts.

Jared did.

She wrapped her arms around me from behind.

"Lets just put tonight behind us, okay?"

I stared down at the cufflinks. Before I could speak, a small slip of paper drifted out of the shopping bag.

The receipt.

The total on it was staggering.

It was for a designer tie, priced at ten times the cost of the cufflinks.

I recognized the brand instantly.

Only thirty minutes ago, Jared had posted a photo on his Instagram feed. He was wearing that exact tie, a brilliant, cocky smile on his face.

The caption read: "Complimentary wedding gift from a very special sponsor. Going to be the best-looking best man next week."

I stared at the receipt, and a single, hot tear spilled over my lashes, dripping onto the paper.

The patience on Laurens face instantly evaporated.

"Why are you crying again? Connor, honestly, dealing with you is so exhausting."

I froze, her words echoing in the quiet room.

There was a time when my tears would panic her.

She used to clumsily wipe them away, pulling me into her arms and murmuring over and over, "Connor, please dont cry. My heart breaks when you cry."

Once, after a terrible nightmare in the middle of the night, she had driven across three neighborhoods just to buy me a bowl of hot soup to calm me down.

She had said, "My Connor didnt have anyone to comfort him when he was a kid. But from now on, every time you cry, Ill be here to dry your tears."

Back then, she truly cared.

Now, my grief was merely "exhausting."

When your tears no longer touch a person's heart, it is time to dry them yourself.

I wiped my face, my voice quiet and flat.

"Im fine."

Lauren seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. She leaned in, attempting to kiss my cheek, but I instinctively turned my face away.

Her expression hardened into cold irritation.

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

"Whatever. Cool off."

She turned on her heel and walked into the study, slamming the door behind her.

Later that night, as I was turning off the lights, the iPad on the nightstand lit up.

Laurens messages were synced to it.

I only intended to turn off the screen, but the name flashing on the display made my chest tighten with a sharp, familiar pain.

It was Jared.

Jared: "Did you smooth things over?"

Lauren: "No. Hes getting harder and harder to deal with lately."

Jared sent a smirk emoji.

Jared: "Did you make it up to him in bed tonight, then?"

A few seconds passed before her reply appeared.

Lauren: "Please. He turned me down."

Lauren: "Honestly, its fine. Its been seven years; I dont really feel anything for his body anymore. Its a relief he pushed me away. Otherwise, I would have had to force myself to get intimate."

I stared at those lines.

My eyes burned, but the tears had run completely dry.

So even touch had become a chore she had to steel herself to perform.

I shut down the iPad.

I took the obsidian cufflinks, placed them back inside the boutique box, and set them on the entryway table.

Beside them, I laid my wedding band.

It felt like returning the remnants of a dream I had finally woken up from.

Right then, my phone buzzed with a notification.

My ticket was confirmed.

A 3:00 AM flight to Iceland.

From this moment on, whichever city I flew to, I would never again land by her side.

The next morning, as I rolled my suitcase past the study, the door was slightly ajar.

From inside came the sound of Laurens soft, amused laughter.

She was on a video call.

Jared, dressed in his pajamas, was leaning back against his headboard, holding a printout of our wedding vows.

"Lauren, this part is way too formal," he read aloud, chuckling. "'Connor, thank you for seven years of companionship.' It sounds like a corporate speech from a CEO."

Lauren laughed softly. "Im terrible at writing that kind of stuff."

Jared rested his chin on his hand, looking at the screen.

"You should write something like: Youre like springtime, you make me feel light. Isnt that more romantic?"

The line fell into a quiet, heavy silence.

"That sounds more like you," Lauren said, her voice dropping to a murmur.

A beat of silence stretched through the speaker.

"Are you sure you want to say that to Connor, then?" Jared asked quietly.

Lauren didnt answer immediately.

After a long pause, she spoke.

"Its a wedding. It doesnt really matter who Im reading them to. Just pretend Im secretly saying them to you."

Standing in the hallway, I felt something tear quietly inside my chest.

For those vows, I had spent nights drafting three pages of text. Writing, revising, erasing. Removing anything that sounded too clich, leaving only the rawest, most honest pieces of my heart.

I had once asked her, "Should we write our vows together?"

She had brushed it off: "Theres no need for that kind of empty performance."

It wasnt that she found it empty.

It was just that performing it with me wasnt worth the effort.

On the screen, Jared leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Come closer."

Lauren creased her brow. "What?"

He didnt answer. He simply leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against his camera lens.

An absurd, lingering kiss.

And Lauren didnt pull away.

She only sighed softly after a brief silence.

"Jared. Don't do that anymore. I'm getting married."

Jared lowered his eyes, his voice laced with practiced vulnerability.

"I know. Thats why I wanted to be selfish one last time before you belong to someone else."

Lauren didnt reprimand him. Her silence was a quiet permission.

My fingers grew cold.

If she truly felt a line had been crossed, why hadnt she hung up immediately?

Jared quickly flipped to another file on his screenthe layout for our wedding photo wall.

"Do we really have to display all these old couple photos? Honestly, seeing how happy you two used to be... it hurts a little."

Lauren looked at the screen, silent for a moment.

Finally, she spoke.

"We can just take them down, then."

"Connor is easygoing anyway. He wont mind."

A sudden, sharp heat pressed behind my eyes.

That photo wall was the one part of the wedding I had fought to keep.

Seven years of memories. The first snow we watched together. Our very first road trip, holding hands in the car. The slightly lopsided cake she had baked for my birthday.

I had spent hours choosing those photographs because I believed they were the physical proof of our love.

Yet, with a single complaint from Jared, Lauren discarded them without a second thought.

The moments I had treasured for seven years were nothing more than an inconvenience.

I suppose when you reach the absolute limit of heartbreak, you no longer feel the pain. It turns into a deep, hollow numbness.

I quietly turned around, pulling my suitcase behind me.

My phone lit up.

It was the wedding coordinator.

"Mr. Davis, Ms. Lauren just confirmed the removal of the photo wall. Additionally, the wedding vows have been modified by Mr. Jared. Are you absolutely certain you wish to cancel?"

I stared at the words and let out a small, tired smile.

I typed back:

"Yes. Cancel it."

The chill of the early morning wind swept through the stairwell as I walked out, the wheels of my suitcase clicking softly against the concrete.

Seven years of photos, erased in a single sentence by Lauren.

And so, I left Lauren behind in those seven years, too.

As I handed my boarding pass to the gate agent, the automated cancellation notification finally made its way to Laurens phone.

She immediately dialed the coordinator, her voice tight and panicked.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The coordinator sounded more bewildered than she was.

"The cancellation was requested by Mr. Davis himself. He mentioned he accepted a position in Iceland and likely won't be returning. Ms. Lauren... did you not know?"