I Am No Ones Second Choice

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The day before my wedding, a notification popped up on my phone: a hotel reservation confirmation in my fiances name.

I didn't scream. I didn't call her. I sat in our living room, surrounded by half-packed suitcases and wedding favors, waiting for her to come home and give me a reason to keep the ring on her finger.

But she didn't come home. Instead, her "childhood best friend," Riley, posted a photo to his Instagram. They were tangled together in a hotel bed, the lighting soft and intimate, her face tucked into the crook of his neck.

The caption read: If Im going to lose you to someone else tomorrow, at least let me truly have you today.

...

Caught red-handed at a Marriott with another man, and Brooke didn't even try to explain.

She just sent a text that read: Everything is ready on my end. Ill see you at the altar tomorrow.

A bitter laugh escaped my throat as I stared at the screen. What was I to her? A safety net? A "sensible" choice to please her parents?

The air in the apartment felt heavy, like I was trying to breathe underwater. I looked around at the meticulously decorated roomthe white orchids, the curated photos of usand it all felt like a curated lie.

I took a shaky breath, forcing the lump in my throat down, and typed back: The wedding is off. Were done.

Brooke didn't reply. I didn't know if shed even seen it, and frankly, I didn't care to speak to her again. I felt tainted. Not by what she did, but by the fact that Id shared a life with someone so hollow.

I packed my custom-tailored suit back into its charcoal-gray garment bag. Brooke was beautiful, brilliant, and powerfula Director at a top-tier consulting firm, the kind of woman people called "the pride of the city." To the world, she was the ultimate prize.

People always told me I was "punching above my weight." Even before the wedding, friends hinted that I should be the "supportive husband," the one who made sacrifices to keep a woman like her happy. And I had tried. Id learned how to be the man she needed.

But betrayal isn't a one-time mistake; its a character flaw. I wanted a marriage built on glass-clear honesty, not a life spent sweeping dirt under a rug. I couldn't live like that.

Only my mother and my best friend, Zack, knew about the wedding. I sent them the news first. My mother was horrified, pleading with me not to be impulsive, to "think about the logistics."

Then I told her what I saw.

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Finally, she whispered, "Okay, Gary. If this is what you need, Im with you."

I spent the next few hours stripping the apartment of anything that looked like a celebration. The wedding was dead; there was no point in living in its graveyard. I turned off my phone, crawled into bed, and let sleep take me.

The next morning, the pounding on my door started. I stayed under the covers, staring at the ceiling. Brooke knew what shed done. She had to have known this was coming.

I thought it was over. I thought I could just move on.

But then Brooke showed up at my doorstep two days later.

She looked exhausted, her usual polished exterior frayed at the edges. Her dark eyes searched mine, unwavering.

Gary, she said, her voice raspy. Are you done throwing your tantrum?

I blinked, stunned by her audacity. On what grounds are you questioning me, Brooke?

Stop it. Ive had a hell of a week. She sounded like she was trying to be soft, but it felt like a performance. She didn't mention the hotel. She didn't mention Riley.

I let out a cold, sharp laugh. Must be exhausting, I thought, trying to keep two men on a leash at once. And why is that my problem?

I tried to push past her to leave, but she grabbed my wrist. Her palm was warm against my skina touch that used to anchor me. Now, it made my skin crawl. I jerked my arm away as if Id been burned.

Dont touch me!

Brooke flinched. She looked at me as if I were a stranger. Her mouth opened, then closed.

Brooke, if you dont want this to get ugly, stay away from me.

Gary! Her voice sharpened, irritation bleeding through. I was left standing at the church alone. People laughed at me. Ive spent the last forty-eight hours cleaning up your mess. Can we just talk like adults?

Talk about what? What you did in that hotel room? Sorry, but Im not interested in the details of your extracurriculars.

Her eyes turned cold, her face hardening into a mask of corporate indifference. A dirty mind sees dirt everywhere, she snapped.

Exactly. Im the problem. Im the dirty one who isnt good enough for the pristine Brooke Miller. So go find someone who is. Were done.

She took a deep, shaky breath, clearly fighting back rage. Gary, lets go back to the house and talk. My parents are expecting us for dinner tonight.

The mention of her parents gave me a momentary pang of guilt. They were nothing like her. Her father was a kind-hearted man who loved to talk shop, and her mother was the warmest woman Id ever met. Theyd treated me like a son from day one.

Id always thought that if they were so good, Brooke had to have that same goodness in her. Id spent three years catering to her every need, making sure dinner was hot when she got home from the office, just so she could have a moment of peace.

But I realized now that she hadn't been resting. Shed been taking.

I knew I had to face them eventually to make the break clean. So, I agreed. But I refused to get in her car. I drove myself. Her face was a thundercloud, but she didn't argue.

We arrived at her parents' house. Before we even crossed the threshold, I heard her mothers voice from the kitchen. Were out of berries. Go grab some of those blackberries Gary likes, would you?

On it, her father called out.

He walked toward the door and paused when he saw us. A warm, genuine smile broke across his face. Youre back! Come in, come in. Im just heading out for some fruit, Ill be right back.

I felt like an imposter. In my head, Id prepared for them to scream at me, to blame me for the canceled wedding. Instead, they were welcoming me with open arms. I couldn't even bring myself to call them "Mom and Dad" like I used to.

Brooke pulled a pair of guest slippers out for me. I looked at them, then at her. Thanks, I said flatly.

She hesitated, her gaze lingering on me for a second too long before I brushed past her.

Her mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. Gary, honey! Sit down, relax. Dinners almost ready.

They acted as if the wedding scandal had never happened. The guilt deepened, but it didn't change my mind. I sat on the sofa, staring at the black screen of the TV.

Brooke set a glass of water in front of me. Youve been here a hundred times. Why are you acting so stiff?

I didn't look at her. Because this isnt my home. And this is the last time Ill be here.

Brooke gripped her own glass so hard her knuckles turned white. Her lips thinned into a hard line, but she said nothing.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Brooke went to answer it, and a loud, cheerful voice echoed through the hallway. Hey, Brooke! Smells amazing in here. Whats cooking?

It was Riley.

He walked in, kicking off his shoes with the familiarity of someone who owned the place. He was carrying a gift bag. When he saw me, he froze for a fraction of a second, a strained, smug smile tugging at his lips. Oh, hey, Gary. Youre here too.

My gaze dropped to his feet. He was sliding into a pair of blue slippers with a little bear embroidered on them.

They were a matching set with the pink bear slippers Brooke was wearing.

A cold, mocking smile touched my lips. I swallowed everything I wanted to say.

Dinner was a slow-motion car crash. Her mother kept trying to bridge the gap, asking Brooke to pass me food, acting as if we were still the golden couple.

Brookes brow was furrowed the entire time. Shed always hated the intimacy of sharing foodshe thought it was unhygienic, "swapping spit," shed called it. Once, shed even made a scene about it in front of my own family.

But tonight, the disgust in her eyes was palpable.

Its fine, Mrs. Miller, I said softly. I can get it myself.

Her mothers smile faltered, and she shot Brooke a look of disappointment.

Riley, sensing the tension, picked up a piece of honey-glazed salmon and dropped it onto Brookes plate. Here, you need the protein, B.

Brooke didn't flinch. She didn't look disgusted. She just ate it.

I wanted to laugh. She hated my touch, but she accepted his "spit-swapped" offerings without a second thought. If her parents hadn't been sitting right there, I think I would have lost it.

Dont ignore Gary, her mother said, her voice tight. Take care of your fianc.

Brooke glanced at me, and with a heavy sigh of obligation, she dropped a grilled shrimp onto my plate.

I stared at it.

We had been together for three years. Three years, and she still didn't know I was deathly allergic to shellfish.

I didn't touch the food after that. The shrimp sat there on my plate, a pink, curled monument to her indifference.

Thank you for having me, I said, standing up abruptly. But I need to be clear. Brooke and I have broken up. Im sorry to disappoint you both, but its over.

The room went silent. Her parents stared at me, stunned. Brooke sat with her fists clenched, staring at the table.

Riley was the one who spoke up. Gary, come on. Youre being dramatic. You don't just throw away a marriage over a misunderstanding. Don't be a child.

I looked at him, my expression dead. You know exactly why Im doing this, Riley. Dont pretend you dont.

Gary! Brooke snapped, standing up. Her eyes were dark with warning. Ive told you, Riley is like a brother to me. Stop being so insecure.

I looked at her, and for the first time, I just felt tired.

I turned to her parents. Thank you again for everything. Ill make it up to you some other time. I have things to handle.

Her mother stood up, her eyes watery. Gary, wait

Its okay, Mrs. Miller. Youre always welcome to call me, but I cant stay here.

I walked out. The air outside was cool and crisp, but the heaviness didn't lift.

I drove straight to Zacks place. Hed helped me coordinate the limo for the wedding, and I needed to settle the bill. He saw me at the door and immediately pulled me in, grabbing a bowl of popcorn and settling onto the couch.

Alright, man. Lay it out. What happened?

Incompatibility, I said, trying to sound casual. Different values.

You were together for three years and you just now realized your values dont align? Bullshit.

I stayed silent.

Zacks eyes widened. Wait. Did she did she cheat?

I didn't have to say anything. My silence was his answer.

Motherfucker, Zack breathed. I knew she was cold, but I didn't think she was a snake. She was just looking for a nice guy to settle down with after she got tired of playing around, wasnt she?

Doesn't matter now, I said. Everyone makes choices. Im just making mine.

Well, good for you, Zack said, clapping me on the shoulder. Plenty of fish in the sea, man. Better ones. Ones that don't come with a brother attached.

Talking to him helped. By the time I left, I felt a little more like myself. I wasn't the problem. I was a good man who had been taken for granted, and I didn't need to punish myself for someone elses lack of integrity.

I went back to work the next Monday. My colleagues, unaware of the drama, offered their congratulations on the "wedding." I smiled and thanked them, feeling a hollow ache in my chest every time I saw a leftover piece of wedding cake in the breakroom.

So, Gary, my coworker whispered during lunch. Are you guys going for a honeymoon baby? Everyone knows that manager position is yours, but if you take paternity leave now, it might get tricky.

I leaned back in my chair. You don't have to worry about that. No kids in the cards for me anytime soon.

Oh? Parents not nagging you yet?

I smiled thinly. Nobody has the right to dictate my life. Whatever happens, happens naturally.

He looked impressed. I wish I had your clarity, man. Youre right. Its your life.

I threw myself into my work, scrubbing Brooke from my daily routine. It was surprisingly easy to avoid someone when you finally stopped trying to find them.

For five days, I was free.

Then, she showed up at my apartment again.