The Bride Who Called Off the Wedding

2: 2

With that, I didn't wait to see how they'd react. I just turned and walked out.

By the time I stepped through the door of the coffee shop, not one of them had come after me.

At the corner, through the shop's clear window, I caught it out of the corner of my eye.

The two of them exchanged a glance, then broke into easy, careless smiles.

I didn't have to guess what they were saying.

Lois would look at Otto with that helpless expression of hers.

"Margie really is something. We ignore her for five minutes and she throws a fit just to be noticed."

Otto would keep scrolling on his phone, indifferent.

"Just leave her. She's really pushing it now, using the wedding as a threat."

"Let's see if she actually has the nerve not to marry me."

And then Lois would collapse laughing into Otto's arms.

"Oh, stop it, you're terrible. Don't call her out like that. Go smooth things over once in a while, let her save face."

That scene had played out countless times, for as long as I could remember.

Every time I got upset about being overlooked, about being treated differently, all they saw was me making a scene for attention.

Except the attention part was the lie. Calling off the wedding was real.

Late that night, Otto came home.

I lay curled against the far edge of the bed, hugging a pillow.

He knocked on the bedroom door and set a cup of milk tea gently on the nightstand.

I glanced at it. It was the one they'd been drinking that afternoon.

For a second, something in me stirred.

I gripped the fabric in my hands, and I couldn't help the small, foolish hope that rose in me.

Was Otto here to apologize?

Had he finally seen how unfair all of this had been to me?

But Otto only stood by the bed for a long time.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Margie."

"What?"

"From now on, if you want something, can you just say so?"

I froze.

Otto let out a long sigh.

"Lo could see it too. You're sulking because we only got you an iced coffee."

"But this isn't okay. Lo took time off work just to go shopping with you, and then you walk out and start talking about calling off the wedding. You had her anxious the whole day."

The heat was set to 82, the goose-down comforter soft over me.

And still I felt like I'd been dropped into ice.

Otto looked so certain, blaming me.

For one dizzy moment I almost wondered if maybe these really were small things, if I was making too much of nothing.

But I knew, clearly, that wasn't it.

I sat up and looked at him quietly.

"Otto, do you honestly think it's right to make your own fiancée use the cheap stuff and then turn around and buy someone else luxury goods?"

Otto blinked, then understanding dawned on his face.

"So this is about the wedding jewelry."

He relaxed and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He reached for me. I moved out of reach.

His brows drew together again, the way you'd look at a child who doesn't know any better.

"I already told you, the other set wasn't worth the money."

"Something you only wear once for the wedding. Why pay a markup on it?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"So buying Lois a diamond, something that loses most of its value the second you walk out the door, that's worth the money?"

It was like I'd struck a nerve.

Otto shot to his feet and snapped back before he could think.

"How could you even compare yourself to her!"

The air went dead silent.

I stared at him, stunned.

His throat bobbed, dry.

After a long moment, he tried to patch it over.

"What I mean is, Lois is a manager. She's in and out of meetings all the time. Luxury like that suits her better."

"You're just a clerk. You wouldn't have any use for it—"

Otto was still racking his brain for excuses, but I couldn't take in a single word.

That one line he'd let slip, "How could you even compare yourself to her," kept echoing in my head.

So that was it. That was it.

In the heart of the fiancé I was supposed to marry, I ranked far, far below someone else.

The back of my hand went suddenly cold.

Without noticing, I'd started crying, my whole face wet with it.

My heart ached like it was being torn apart, my nails carving red lines into my palms.

I forced my head up.

"Don't say any more, Otto. Let's break up."

"When I said the wedding was off, I meant it."