Eight Years Wasted She Chose Him the Night Before Our Wedding

"Fine, don't apologize. Then make it right with actions! Call everyone and tell them the wedding's off because you changed your mind!"

As if afraid I'd refuse, she hung up immediately.

Then sent me a text:

Wilfred, I'm begging you, please stop making this harder than it has to be. Graham and I are just signing a piece of paper. It doesn't mean anything. Canceling the wedding is just so we can save your dream ceremony for the right time.

The familiar words stung my eyes until they burned.

The right time.

I'd been hearing that for eight years. Nearly three thousand days and nights, waiting for her to marry me.

Instead, I'd waited just long enough to watch her become someone else's legal wife.

Carrie, I'm done waiting for you.

Because we were never right for each other.

She recalled the message.

Then sent a new one:

That last message wasn't something Graham should see. He's sensitive and reads too much into things. Just do what I asked, okay? Whatever I owe you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you after those three years.

I actually laughed out loud.

I waited two minutes. Sure enough, she recalled that message too.

So which one of us was she really lying to? Me, or herself?

Her childhood sweetheart wanted to be a father, and somehow she'd volunteered to carry the baby for him?

Even if I took a massive step back and accepted that she was just "helping out," why did she care so much about Graham's feelings over the promises she'd made to me?

She'd gone this far just so her childhood friend could play daddy.

So how exactly had that child been conceived?

I shook my head, forcing the ugly speculation out of my mind.

I typed a quick "okay" and hit send.

A red exclamation mark appeared beside the message.

She'd already deleted me from her contacts. To keep Graham happy.

Just as well.

I didn't dwell on it. I posted an announcement on social media that the wedding was off.

Immediately, people started asking why.

Not wanting to stir up drama, I repeated Carrie's version of events: I'd decided I wasn't ready to get married yet.

But my friends flooded my inbox, telling me I was an idiot:

"Wilfred, Carrie isn't that broke little nobody anymore. She's the kind of woman every man wants. You call off the wedding now, you're practically handing your wife to someone else on a silver platter."

I didn't reply.

Because Carrie was already someone else's wife.

Shortly after I made the post, Graham sent me a photo of their marriage certificate.

His tone dripped with smugness as he thanked me for stepping aside.

"Wilfred, my man. Thanks for the assist. Carrie and I were originally getting the certificate tomorrow, but she pulled some strings and got it rushed through today just to make me feel better!"

I didn't bother responding. Delete. Block. Done.

My phone buzzed. My mother called, her voice sharp with fury.

"Are you out of your mind? The fruit's right there on the branch and you won't pick it! What kind of game are you playing? By the time you decide you want to get married, she might not want you anymore!"

I let out a quiet laugh.

"What if she's the one who doesn't want to get married? To me?"

My mother went silent for a beat, then her scolding came back twice as fierce.

"Then you clearly did something wrong! Swallow your pride and sweet-talk her. You've spent years building her up from nothing. Don't tell me you're going to walk away with nothing to show for it!"

Eight years with Carrie. She always said the same thing: career first, family later.

But when she finally made it, the family she wanted wasn't with me.

It wasn't that I hadn't tried. Trying just didn't matter.

For eight years, I'd shelved my own dreams to help build hers. When we lived in that basement apartment, she ate instant noodles while I filled up on the broth.

I'd proposed more times than I could count, all for the chance to call her my wife.

She'd gotten pregnant three times without telling me, and three times she'd ended it. I'd swallowed that too.

All because she said the timing wasn't right. She didn't want a child to suffer alongside us.