A Love Worth Saying 'I Do'

Kendall's POV

There was a time when thunderstorms used to terrify me. Back then, Marc would gently cup his hands over my ears, comforting me and telling me not to be afraid.

Now, as I stared at the storm rolling in through the window, I barely flinched at the rumble of thunder. I’d long since learned to face the noise—and the silence that followed—on my own.

Marc didn’t come home that night. Strangely, I slept better than I had in months, as if letting go of him had lifted a weight off my chest.

The next morning, I walked into the dining room, only to find him already sitting at the table.

His face shifted when he saw me—awkwardness flickered before he forced a smile. “Good morning. You’re up. Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

In all the years we’d been together, Marc had never made me breakfast. For a moment, my heart hesitated. But then I glanced at the plate in front of me, and any warmth I might’ve felt vanished.

Calmly, I pushed the plate away. “I’m allergic to peanut butter.”

His expression faltered briefly before he mumbled, “Oh… sorry, I forgot. How about just an egg?”

After a while, as if he’d remembered something, he added, “Oh, about what happened before... I was wrong. Let’s just pick a new date and have another wedding.”

Another wedding?

I looked at him with a faint smile. He didn’t know I’d already decided to move on. That I was preparing to marry someone else.

Taking a deep breath, I finally said what I should’ve said long ago. “There’s no need, Marc. Let’s break up.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Like every couple, we should have got the marriage license first before holding the ceremony. But Marc had taken my face in his hands, his voice steady as he insisted, “I want to give you a wedding so grand that everyone will envy you first. Then we’ll get the license.”

Back then, I’d thought he was being romantic.

Until the night I overheard him talking to Astrid on the phone. Standing frozen by the balcony door, I heard him say, “Don’t be upset. I already did what you asked. I told Kendall we’ll have the wedding first, then the license. She agreed.”

I had been a fool.

For a moment, I thought Marc might welcome the breakup. But his fork slammed onto the table with a loud clang. His face darkened and frustration dripped from his voice as he sharply said, “Kendall, are you seriously still upset about the wedding day?”

He let out a heavy breath, leaning forward as if he could will me into understanding. “I’ve already explained this. Astrid was emotional—she could’ve hurt herself. Do you really expect me to stand by and let that happen? We grew up together. She’s my childhood sweetheart, for God’s sake. What else could I have done?”

His words felt like nails in a coffin I’d already buried.

Once, I believed my years of loyalty had earned his love. I thought I’d pulled him out of his despair, piece by piece until he became a man who could smile again. A man who would rent out an entire restaurant and bring me 999 roses just to celebrate my birthday.

But I was wrong. The moment Astrid returned, everything shifted. He became that man again—the one whose entire world revolved around her.

I wanted to say something, anything, but my voice caught in my throat. It was like all the strength had drained from my body.

How did it come to this? Step by step, how had we unraveled so completely?

Just then, the doorbell rang, cutting through the tense silence.

I got up and opened the door. And there she was—Astrid—casually leaning against the doorframe.