I Would, But Not for You

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1.

My best friend handed me the bride's bouquet, teasing, So, when's your turn?

We're not in a rush, my boyfriend, six years my junior, quickly interjected.

But I traced the petals with my finger and said, Maybe in six months. Planning a wedding takes time.

He took it as an ultimatum, scowling as he reluctantly agreed. Later, under the guise of a "bachelor party," he stayed out all night.

It wasn't until the week before the wedding that he finally understood when he saw his brother's face in the wedding photos.

The groom I was talking about was never him.

Ethan is twenty-five, bursting with energy. I'm thirty-one, a product director at a tech firm in Silicon Valley, and my career is taking off.

To be honest, this relationship hasn't been my priority for a long time.

I've lost count of how many nights he's been away.

At 9 PM, I received a video.

It was from one of Ethan's asshole friends.

The text read: "Chloe, for real, I would never do this to you."

I ignored the message and played the video.

Men and women writhed on the dance floor. Ethan, looking clean-cut and almost innocentDa look I'd paid forDstood out under the dim lights.

A girl in a tight dress pressed against him. He didn't push her away. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, swaying to the music.

As the beat dropped, the girl tilted her head back.

His hand gripped her waist tightly as he leaned in with a smirk.

She stood on her toes, and he lowered his head to kiss her.

They looked good together.

The video cut off.

Ethan's friend texted again: [Seriously, I treat women way better than he does.]

I sent him thirty bucks on Venmo. For the intel. Then I blocked him.

Thirty dollars. That's all his little games were worth.

It's not that I'm cold-blooded. It's just that I've learned that in a relationship, being clear-headed is more important than being deeply in love.

2.

Ethan's heart wasn't with me anymore. I knew that better than anyone.

After deleting the video, I opened Pinterest to look at wedding decor ideas.

My grandmother's Alzheimer's is getting worse. She's the only family I have left in this world. Every time I visit her at the nursing home, she holds my hand and asks if I'm doing okay, if there's someone taking care of me.

I want to give her peace of mind. And I want to give myself some closure.

At thirty-one, I'm successful and financially independent. I don't need marriage to gain anything, but I'm tired of being in limbo.

If Ethan isn't the one, then it's time to find someone who is.

I deserve better.

At 10 PM, right on schedule, Ethan called.

His voice was loud on the other end. "Chloe, I'm not coming home tonight."

I stayed silent. He added, almost guiltily, "The guys are throwing me a bachelor party, you know?"

I remember that line. He'd used it seven times now.

It was clear to me then. He'd been using the "bachelor party" excuse to stay out all week.

The noise and chaos from his end of the line filled the silence in my apartment.

He called my name again, "Chloe? You still there?" His tone was cautious, probing.

He waited for me to speak. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

For a moment, I was lost in a memory. "It's ten o'clock," I said.

3.

Outsiders wouldn't get it, but I knew what it meant, and so did he.

It was a rule he'd set back when we were still madly in love.

He was still a grad student at Stanford then, and I was often working late.

One night, I got home close to midnight. He was curled up on the couch, waiting for me, empty beer cans scattered on the floor.

When he saw me, he stumbled over, his voice thick. "Can you try to be home by ten?"

He was drunk, his words a careful, tentative question.

We had only been together for a short time back then.

My long hours had turned his usually cheerful personality anxious and insecure.

I looked into his watery eyes and smelled the sweet scent of cheesecakeDhe had baked me a birthday cake and waited all night.

In that moment, my heart melted. "Give me a week to adjust," I told him.

For that whole week, he would text me without fail: [It's ten. Time to come home.]

Eventually, it became just: [It's ten.]

And I would automatically reply: [On my way.]

It was our little unspoken promise.

But maybe it was so unspoken that I never noticed when it disappeared.

When did it stop? I found myself wondering for the first time.

Maybe after he graduated. Maybe after he started working. Maybe even earlier.

He hadn't said those words in a long, long time, as if he just assumed I'd always be home on time.

But now, he was the one who needed to come home.

And he chose not to.

4.

He obviously knew what I meant. He paused.

Someone in the background shouted his name, "Ethan! Get over here, we're playing truth or dare!"

The voice got closer, and whoever it was realized he was on the phone and scoffed.

"Dude, you're not even married yet and she's already checking up on you? Can't even let you have a bachelor party?"

Ethan didn't say anything. The guy clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "Hurry up."

Ethan's voice finally came back, softer now. "Chloe, listen to meD"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, pushing my emotions down.

"You don't have to come back."

He seemed surprised for a second, then said, "Babe, don't be like that. This is my last taste of freedom before the wedding."

He said it casually, but it was a complaint.

A complaint about me forcing his hand.

Last week, at my best friend Sarah's wedding, she handed the bouquet directly to me.

Everyone knew Ethan and I had been together for five years.

Sarah looked at Ethan but directed the question at me, "So, when's your turn?"

"We're not in a rush."

The moment Ethan said that, the mood soured.

I looked down at the flowers in my hands and said, "Maybe this fall. Planning a wedding is a lot of work."

Not wanting to embarrass me in public, Ethan just nodded with a frown.

But he blew up when we got home.

"What the hell was that, Chloe? Why did you have to pressure me in front of everyone? I'm only twenty-five!"

So what?

When he was twenty, and twenty-one, his only wish was to marry me.

Had he forgotten all that by twenty-five?

5.

That argument went nowhere.

Because it was a one-sided argument. I was tired. Looking at his stubborn face, I didn't have the energy to debate whether or not I was "pressuring" him.

I had simply stated a fact: we'd been together for five years, and I needed to know where this relationship was going.

It wasn't pressure. It was a legitimate need for communication.

He stormed out of the house.

He didn't come back that night. The next day, he told me he was at a bachelor party.

And today, it was still the bachelor party.

His friends were getting impatient, and before I could say anything else, he hung up.

Thirty minutes later, a text arrived.

[Love you babe. I'll be home tomorrow night, I promise.]

My proposed wedding date was less than six months away. If I didn't say something, he would keep using this bachelor party excuse to avoid me.

Partly to show his displeasure, and partly to do whatever the hell he wanted.

He had grown up, and now he thought I couldn't live without him.

He was wrong.

I spent five years waiting for a man to mature, only to find he'd only learned how to disappoint me.

I was done waiting.

Not because I'm cruel, but because I've finally learned to love myself.

6.

Ethan didn't press me for an answer like he used to when we were in the honeymoon phase.

I watched the clock tick past midnight, then replied to his text: [When I said you don't have to come back, I meant we're over.]

I had given him his chance. I felt I'd done more than enough.

I was just thinking about asking my best friend to set me up with someone newDor maybe just enjoying the single life for a while.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. A steady, unhurried rhythm in the dead of night.

I got up and opened it. A tall, statuesque man stood in the doorway.

He held a cake box in one hand, a lit cigarette pinched between the fingers of the other. He looked at me and said my name, very deliberately. "Chloe Mitchell."

Before I could speak, he spoke again, his tone serious.

"I'm here to steal my brother's girl."

His husky voice drifted in on the night air, along with the smell of alcohol.

I remembered the first time Ethan took me home for Thanksgiving. He had stared at me then, too.

I racked my brain at the time, but I was sure I'd never met him before.

Now, thinking again, I was still sure I didn't know him.

He stood before me, his features obscured by a cloud of smoke.

He spoke again. "Give me a chance."

I crossed my arms, staring at the straight-laced man in front of me.

"My brother and I haven't officially broken up yet."

He looked down at me, stubbed out his cigarette, and stated calmly, "You're not married."

"We were planning on it."

He shot back, "You'd get divorced anyway."

"What if we didn't?"

He fell silent. His voice dropped, almost pleading.

"Just consider me."

7.

Even though he was drunk and showing a hint of vulnerability, I had a feeling this man was not to be underestimated.

I was about to refuse, but he didn't give me the chance.

He lifted the cake box and pushed it into my hands.

It was from the bakery I used to love in collegeDSidecar Doughnuts, flown in from Los Angeles.

"Just think about it."

Just then, Ethan's phone call came through, the ringtone piercing the silence.

I answered. His voice, stripped of its earlier confidence, was now tight with anxiety.

"Chloe, what's going on? Did I do something wrong? I'm coming home right now, we can talk."

The man in front of me took a step closer, the smell of liquor washing over me.

I couldn't tell if he was drunk or not. His face was impassive, but his actions were bold as hell.

He completely ignored the fact I was on the phone and spoke directly to me.

"You don't have to break up with Ethan for me."

"I'm the one making the move."

I don't know how much Ethan heard, but his voice tightened. "Who's there with you?"

Just as I was about to hang up, the man spoke into the air. "It's me."

Now Ethan knew. "Nathan?" he yelled through the phone.

Nathan didn't reply. Ethan's tone suddenly relaxed. "Oh, bro, good, you're there. Help me talk some sense into her."

"I'll be back in the morning, I can't get away from here."

Nathan's voice was formal and serious. "Okay," he replied.

Ethan only heard the sound, not the context.

So he confidently left me in his brother's care.

He had no idea his brother was actively trying to steal his girlfriend.