Heather was quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said.
“I know.”
“I still don’t know what I’m going to do on Monday.”
Her voice cracked.
“My supervisor already warned me about missing another day. Ben was sick twice last month. I used almost all my paid time off.”
I understood how scared she was.
Three little kids depending on her. A job she couldn’t afford to lose. And a brother who’d promised her help that wasn’t his to give.
And the words were right there on my tongue.
I could watch them Monday. Just Monday. While you look for something else.
It would be easy. Call Dr. Bennett. Take one day off.
Maybe two.
Maybe a few more. Until Heather found something.
And then I realized how fast one day turns into two. How fast two turns into a week. How fast a favor becomes an expectation.
That’s exactly what Seth had been counting on.
I almost said yes.
And then I realized that saying yes was exactly what he’d planned for all along.
I didn’t sleep much that Saturday night.
I kept waking up in my apartment and reaching across the bed before I remembered Seth was never going to be there.
Four packed boxes sat by my front door. Ready to go to his townhouse at the end of the month. Kitchen stuff. Books. Winter clothes.
And one box of things I’d bought for our new life together. Matching towels. New sheets. Two coffee mugs that said MR. and MRS.
Sunday morning, I stood looking at those mugs and wanted to smash them on the floor.
Instead, I made coffee.
And then I sat at my kitchen table and cried until it went cold.
My mom called around nine.
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Not really.”
“I’m bringing breakfast.”
“Mom, you don’t have to.”
“I know,” she said.
She showed up twenty minutes later with bagels, orange juice, and a folder full of wedding receipts.
We spent an hour going through them. Some vendors had been paid in full. Some were offering partial refunds. There would be cancellation fees. Lost deposits. Hard conversations with Seth about splitting what was left.
Mom didn’t pretend the money didn’t matter. She knew I couldn’t afford to just write it off.
But she never once said I should’ve married him because of it.
Finally, she asked what happened.
I told her everything. The daycare. My job. The loan. The lies.
She listened without interrupting.
When I was done, she was quiet for a long time.
“I wish he’d been the man you thought he was,” she finally said.
I wished that too.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
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