Goodbye and See You Never

My mother was dying. Her only wish before she passed was to see me married.

For 27 days, I begged my girlfriend, Monica Teller, and she finally agreed to register for marriage with me on the 27th day.

I waited at the courthouse until closing, but she never came.

That same day, her childhood sweetheart, Gurney Barnes, posted their marriage certificate on social media.

[Time sure flies. Three more days, and we'll have been married for a month.]

It was then I finally realized that she had married her childhood sweetheart since the first day I started begging her.

Not long after, an apology text from Monica buzzed on my phone.

[I'm so sorry, Lincoln. Gurney's family was forcing him into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch him get shackled to a stranger. Just give it three days. We'll file for divorce. Three days later, I'll marry you."

Three days later, she showed up at the courthouse in a wedding gown,

But the only thing waiting for her was my message.

[Goodbye, Monica. May we never meet again.]

At the morgue, I stood over my mother's still face, tears pouring down like rain.

She raised me on her own, never once demanding anything of me, yet I could not even fulfill her dying wish.

When I found out my mother was terminally ill, I begged Monica Teller, the woman I had dated for six years, to get married so my mother could pass on knowing that I would not be alone.

I begged her for 27 days, but Monica always had an excuse.

The first day, her childhood friend's car broke down, and she rushed out to pick him up. The second day, she was busy helping him move.

On the 26th day, his stomach condition flared up, and she went to take care of him.

If it were not for Gurney Barnes posting that photo of their marriage certificate that day, I would still be living in the dark.

I had thought of ten thousand reasons why she would be stalling, but it never once crossed my mind that she was already married.

I knelt at my mother's hospital bed until evening. Then, Monica finally called.

Her voice was soft as always.

"It's so late already. Why aren't you home yet? Tell me where you are. I'll come pick you up."

My lips parted, but no words came out.

Back then, I would have pouted and pretended to be upset just so she could coax me. Then, I would happily wait for her to show up.

However, after that discovery, I could not even bring myself to speak gently to her anymore.

There was a hint of worry in her voice. "Lincoln, where are you right now?"

"The hospital."

She went quiet, as if suddenly remembering that I had been with my sick mother the past few days.

"I... Wait for me, Lincoln. I'll come to the hospital and keep you company."

Then, she hung up.

I wiped my face, forced down the grief, and started arranging my mother's funeral affairs.

Ten minutes later, her text popped up on my phone.

[Lincoln, I have to stay with Gurney to meet his parents. I'll definitely visit your mom the next time!]

I was not even surprised.

In the past two years, I had lost count of how many times I heard that same phrase.

'Next time, for sure'.

Missed our anniversary? 'Next time, for sure'.

Bailed on visiting my mother? 'Next time, for sure'.

Too busy to go get our marriage registered? 'Tomorrow, for sure'.

Monica knew I had forgiven her. That was why she felt free to hurt me over and over again.

However, I decided there would be no more next time.

After all, there was no more next time for my mother, and I would not forgive Monica again.

I did not go home that night. I stayed at the hospital.

Monica blew up my phone with messages and calls all night, and I ignored them all.

The next morning, I went straight to the office to prepare my resignation papers.

Monica was the founder of the company I worked in. I was just another designer. I had been with her since she had nothing, building the company from scratch together.

However, my role meant so little that even if I disappeared, she would not notice.

I was still holding the freshly printed resignation letter when Monica appeared behind me out of nowhere.

I kept calm, holding the papers in my hands under her gaze.

She looked at me and asked in her usual soft tone, "Finished printing?"

"Yeah," I answered.

She did not seem to notice my coldness.

Monica cleared her throat lightly and said, "Lincoln, come with me for a moment."

The second she called me away, the office buzzed with whispers.

"Did you guys hear? Ms. Teller's already married."

"For real? No wonder her thing with Lincoln Holmes was never public. All that sneaking around... Turns out he's the side piece."

"Lincoln always swore he hated homewreckers. What a hypocrite!"