Someone Else’s Groom

At a classmate’s wedding, everyone joked with me, "So when are you getting married?"

I said, "Soon."

My girlfriend, Fiona Hartley, said she hadn’t thought about it yet.

After we spoke at the same time, she looked at me with undisguised disgust. "When did I ever agree to marry you?"

That night, claiming it was out of spite, she went out with friends to a get-together centered around her long-cherished first love.

I knew then that she had never intended to marry me.

So I didn’t try to stop her. I let the wedding plans continue as scheduled.

After all, she was never the woman I wanted to marry in the first place.

I had been dating Fiona Hartley for eight years.

At lunch that day, I casually mentioned getting married. I hadn’t even finished my sentence when Fiona slammed her cutlery down on the table with a sharp crack.

She stood up, furious, and shouted at me, "Caleb Morgan, are you really so desperate to trap me with marriage? How can you be this selfish?"

I didn’t understand. We had been together for eight years, and I wanted to get married. What was wrong with that?

I couldn’t help asking her out loud, "Don’t you want to marry me?"

I don’t know which nerve that sentence hit, but Fiona suddenly grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

If a friend hadn’t sent me a video later that night, I wouldn’t even have known that she’d gone out to meet another man.

Watching the video of her dancing closely with him, bodies pressed together, I finally understood why Fiona didn’t want to marry me.

I knew that guy, or rather, everyone in our circle knew him. He was Fiona’s first love, Gavin Rhodes.

I’d heard about them before. In college, they’d been the model couple. People used to see them everywhere together, inseparable. No one knew why they eventually broke up.

Back then, I hadn’t paid much attention. I’d assumed it was just a fleeting infatuation from their student days.

So what if he was her first love? I was the one by her side now.

Now, as I watched the video, the last bit of hope in my heart slowly went out. Fiona’s face seemed to twist and distort in front of my eyes.

I called Fiona.

No answer.

Then the owner of that number sent me a message, dripping with provocation. "Even if you marry her, so what? I'm still the one she loves."

I didn’t reply and quietly blocked the number.

After thinking for a moment, I called Fiona’s best friend, Lena.

The call connected. I got straight to the point. "Fiona is with you right now, isn’t she? Who’s that guy?"

There was silence on the other end. She was clearly guilty.

Then I heard Fiona’s voice in the background. "It’s your turn to drink. Who are you talking to?"

"Work stuff," Lena said in a lowered voice. "I’m hanging up. My