Jilted at the Altar, I Married His Best Friend

I lifted my head and looked at him, steady, even as my nose began to sting.

"I'm giving her a hard time?"

"That's right."

"Apologize to her!"

Felix turned his body, leaving only half of Evelyn's face visible.

"If you don't apologize, I'll—"

"You'll what to my daughter?!"

My father rushed in from the kitchen and pulled me behind him, his stooped shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

He'd lived most of his life without ever raising his voice at anyone. Now he was shouting.

"Felix! I'm still alive, and I don't need you to discipline my child!"

My mother stood up from the couch too and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

Felix took two steps back, his words tumbling out fast and rattled.

"Sir, ma'am, that's not what I meant—"

Before he could finish, Evelyn bit her lip, looked at him, and shook her head.

"Everything that went wrong is because I'm not good enough. I'm the one who should apologize to Bianca and her family."

As she said it, she turned, opened the high-proof whiskey my father had kept in the cabinet for years—the bottle he'd saved to celebrate my engagement to Felix—tipped her head back, and drank.

The first mouthful made her clutch her chest and cough.

A few seconds later, her pale skin began to flush.

"She's allergic to alcohol!"

Felix reacted fast, snatching the bottle out of her hand and hurling it to the floor.

It shattered against the ground, the smell of whiskey spreading through the room.

He swept Evelyn up in his arms and strode for the door, not forgetting to grab the bag she'd left in the entryway and sling it over his shoulder.

Just as he was about to step out, he turned back.

"Bee, I'm taking her to the hospital first. You and your parents calm down."

"I'm not agreeing to a breakup."

"Wait for me to come back."

And with that, he walked out without a moment's hesitation, his stride long.

I looked at the broken glass and the spilled whiskey on the floor, a bitterness climbing up my throat, took my parents' hands, and said,

"Dad, Mom, didn't you two want to go stay down south for a while?"

"A friend of mine runs a company down there, and he's short-staffed right now. He's asked me to come head it up."

"If you're up for it, you can leave tonight. Once I hand off my work here, I'll come find you?"

The two of them exchanged a glance, and my mother nodded.

"Sure. Your dad and I haven't taken a single trip since we retired anyway."

So my father went to the kitchen to bring out the food, my mother packed, and I cleaned up the mess.

Then I took out my phone and texted that friend back, asked him to arrange things for my parents, and changed the lock code on the apartment door.

After dinner, I saw the two of them onto their flight and went back to the city where the company was.

By the time I arrived, it was already eight at night.

Cabs were lined up outside the airport, and a young college couple was walking ahead of me.

The girl was perched on her suitcase. The boy carried her backpack on his back, held her half-finished iced latte in one hand, and pushed the suitcase with the other.

The two of them talked and laughed, and passersby kept turning to look.

Watching them from behind, I suddenly thought back to the first two years Felix and I were together.

Back then, we'd just started college.

After his mother had a child with her current husband, she cut him off—no more living expenses, no more tuition.

Not yet twenty, he ran himself ragged between classes and part-time jobs.

And since we were dating, there were meals and dates, of course, and his expenses jumped all at once.

Knowing the pressure he was under, my parents gave me a sum of money—a dating fund—to spend when the two of us went out.

But after a few times, Felix noticed something was off.

From then on, every time we went out to eat, he'd make an excuse to leave the table, pay the bill ahead of time, and come back.