1 My friends said marrying Claire would hand my parents their dream of grandkids on a silver platter. But my nineteenth proposal failed, like all before it, because of Leo, the son of her old college friend. People even wondered if he was her secret child. Each time, I'd explain, "She feels she owes his father, Gerry, who once saved her life." At the theater, a slideshow of our sweetest moments played, but the air was heavy. When Claire finally arrived, half the guests had left. "Sorry," she said, "Leo needed extra help with his times tables." I expected the same sharp disappointment, but felt only deep exhaustion. I nodded and went to pay for the empty theater. She stopped me. "Let me get this." I shook my head. "It's fine." Then she said casually, "I think we should postpone our wedding... Actually, today I married Leo's father. It helps his custody case." She held out the marriage certificate. My mind went blank, one thought surfacing: Do I really have to marry this woman? … “It’s just on paper,” she continued, oblivious. “Once the custody case is over…” “You’ll divorce him and marry me?” I cut her off, a twisted, ugly smile pulling at my lips. She froze for a second, but her attention was quickly stolen by Leo, who had started to fuss in her arms. “That man stinks, Mommy! I don’t wanna be here!” he whined. “Let’s go home! I want you and Daddy to read me a story together!” His sticky candy hands smeared all over her coat, and he even managed to yank out a few strands of her hair. But this was the same Claire who once threw a fit because I’d hugged her without taking off my coat first. This time, she didn't even flinch. Her entire world was focused on cooing at the boy. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll go home right now.” Once Leo quieted down, she turned back to me, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “What kind of man wears cologne like that? Leo can’t stand the smell. Don’t wear it again.” Then she added, as an afterthought, “And get rid of all the bottles you have at home before I come over.” She had completely forgotten. This cologne was her first-anniversary gift to me. Or maybe, it was just something she’d picked up on a whim. Maybe I was the only one who had ever felt anything. The only one who had been drowning in the scraps of attention she let slip through her fingers, forcing myself to paint her neglect as love, to believe this relationship had a future. Claire shifted Leo higher in her arms, settling him more comfortably on her hip. Her gaze swept over me, as flat and impersonal as a manager giving orders to an underling. “I’ve explained the situation. Gerry has dinner waiting at home. I’m leaving now.” She walked away with the unhurried pace of someone who had just checked a task off her list, leaving me behind like a subordinate with no right to speak. And suddenly, I felt so tired. A profound exhaustion that seeped from my very bones. I drove home on autopilot. The moment I pushed open the door, my parents’ expectant faces greeted me. Their eyes instinctively darted to the space behind me, searching. But there was nothing there. Only emptiness. The joy that had just begun to light up their faces instantly vanished. My mom forced a smile as she came to take my coat. “It’s okay, honey. Claire’s a teacher. She has so many children to look after. It’s normal for her to be busy.” She patted my arm. “Good things take time. Good things take time.” My dad let out a heavy sigh and turned to start taking down the festive decorations that filled the room. Over the past two years, for each failed proposal, these same decorations had been put up and taken down, taken down and put up. The new house we’d bought for our marriage was a mess, the walls scarred with the residue of tape from countless aborted celebrations. The last time Claire had even been here was months ago, when she’d left in the middle of dinner to rush Leo to the hospital for a sudden fever. She came back later to apologize, and my mother had gently advised, “It would be good to settle things soon.” Claire’s face had darkened instantly. She called my mom an “old-fashioned relic who only knows how to push people into marriage,” accusing her of lecturing a schoolteacher when she’d barely finished high school herself. She never came back after that. My mom had blamed herself ever since, convinced that Claire kept refusing me because of that one comment. But I knew the truth. I thought of how Claire always arrived at Gerry’s parents’ house laden with expensive gifts, how she’d even compiled an entire binder detailing their favorite foods, hobbies, and medical conditions. And I looked at my own parents, their hearts just as broken as mine, trying so desperately to hide their disappointment so they wouldn’t upset me. A tidal wave of guilt crashed over me, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. My mom carefully took down the framed photo of Claire and me that sat in the center of the living room, about to place it in a dust-proof box. I took the frame from her hands and looked at it one last time. Who would have believed that in three years together, this was our only photo? And it only existed because I had sponsored her school’s summer camp. As the official sponsor, I was allowed to attend the activities, and later, I had to crop this picture of the two of us from a group shot of over fifty people. In the photo, I was finally standing beside her, my smile overflowing with pure joy. But she was staring off into the distance, her expression grim and worried, because it was the first time Leo had been away from Gerry for so long, and he wouldn't stop crying. I thought of Gerry’s social media feed, where he posted a gallery of photos almost every day. In every single one, Claire was beaming like the morning sun. I felt like a complete and utter fool. Without a second thought, I tossed the photo frame into the trash. My mom gasped, thinking I’d dropped it by accident. She moved to pick it up. I stopped her. “Mom, leave it.” “I’m done waiting.” 2 My mom stared at me, her eyes clouded with confusion and worry. “What happened today…?” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Claire married Gerry. They registered it today.” The air in the living room froze. My dad slammed a string of party lights onto the floor. “This is ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! What does she think our family is? Her backup plan? Her second choice?” I lowered my head, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through these past few years.” My mom came over and wrapped her arms around me. “Oh, my sweet boy,” she whispered. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters to us.” Just then, my phone buzzed. It was Claire. My dad, his face a thundercloud, reached to end the call, but my mom shot him a look and pulled him back into their room. “Let them talk it out,” I heard her say. “He needs to close this chapter so she can’t keep wasting his time.” I answered the call. But the voice on the other end wasn’t Claire’s. It was Gerry. “Alex,” he said, his tone oozing smug satisfaction. “Claire had a little too much to drink with my parents tonight. She got caught up in the conversation. She’ll be staying here with me.” My hand clenched around the phone, and I fought back the hot sting of tears. “Why are you telling me this? You’re her husband now.” My response seemed to delight him, his voice deepening with amusement. “Oh, so Claire already told you? She’s really something. It was supposed to just be for the judge, but I guess she couldn’t wait to break the news.” He chuckled. “Don’t get the wrong idea, though. We’re just a pretend couple. You didn’t get all jealous and start a fight with her, did you? That would explain why she drank so much tonight…” “Get to the point,” I bit out, my voice ragged. He fell silent for a moment. Then, in the background, I heard Claire’s sleepy murmur. “Gerry, I’m so hot… Can you help me change…?” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, streaming down my face. Gerry must have heard me, because his voice dripped with even more triumph. “Sorry about that. I was just calling to ask for the recipe for that hangover soup you make for her. It’s the only one she’ll drink. And, you know… to explain the whole marriage thing.” “Claire’s got enough on her plate with her students,” he went on, his voice a condescending drawl. “As men, we need to be a little more understanding, don’t you think?” Claire seemed to stir, her voice clearer now. “Is that Alex on the phone?” There was a rustling sound, and then the phone was in her hand. Her voice was thick with irritation. “Alex, I already told you I married Gerry today. I have to meet his family and make it look convincing. If the judge finds out it’s a sham marriage, the consequences are serious.” “Can’t you be more like Gerry? Stop being so paranoid all the time and give me a break. Once the custody battle is…” “When?” I roared, cutting her off. All the pent-up frustration, all the humiliation of the past three years, finally exploded. “When what, Claire?” I screamed into the phone. “When you stand me up again because Leo can’t remember that one plus one equals two? When you miss my parents’ sixtieth birthday to comfort Gerry over his divorce? When you ignore our thirty friends waiting for us and drive hundreds of miles just to buy Leo the perfect eraser?” “Claire, how much longer do you expect me to wait?” “Until I’m on my deathbed? Or until Gerry is on his?” Sobs ripped through me, raw and uncontrollable. I sank to the floor by the sofa, clutching my head. “Why should I have to wait, Claire? Why the hell should I wait for you?” “I’m telling you right now, I’m done! I’m fucking done waiting!” 3 “I hope you and your precious Gerry live happily ever after! You want to repay your debt to him so badly? Then chain yourself to him for life and stop ruining other people’s!” The line went silent for a long moment. Then, Claire’s voice, cold and sharp as ice, cut through the phone. “Alex, I never forced you to wait for me. Don’t you dare try to pin all the blame on me.” “And if you don’t want to give Gerry the soup recipe, that’s fine, but you have no right to take your anger out on him. Apologize to him. Now.” I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. She hadn’t heard a single word I’d said. She still thought this was about jealousy. About a stupid hangover soup recipe. Maybe it was because after every one of our nineteen previous fights, I had always been the one to crawl back, to beg her for forgiveness. Maybe it had given her the illusion that I would never, ever leave. I slammed the end call button, and a wave of relief, the first I’d felt in years, washed over me. On the other end, Claire stared at her phone, the dial tone buzzing in her ear. Disbelief registered on her face. Her alcohol-fogged brain was slowly processing my words, the raw anguish in my voice. Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach, and she felt a sudden, urgent need to go to my house, to explain everything in person. But as she stood up, Leo padded out from the kitchen, carefully carrying a bowl of soup. She rushed over and took it from him. “Leo, sweetie, you should let the nanny get things like this for you. You could get hurt.” “But Mommy,” he pouted, “you married Daddy now. Why are you still calling yourself the nanny? You’re going to make me mad!” Claire faltered. Just then, Gerry emerged from the kitchen, an apron tied around his waist. Her gaze flickered to him, and after a long pause, she slowly nodded at the boy. “Okay,” she said softly. “Then Mommy will drink the soup with you, how about that?” At midnight, a new post from Gerry popped up on my social media feed. The caption read: “My family.” The picture was of Claire, holding Leo, patiently feeding him soup with a small spoon. Gerry stood beside them, beaming at the camera. I felt nothing. My heart was a calm, still lake. I left a single comment—“Congratulations on the wedding”—then turned off my phone and fell asleep. I thought that was it. That a final, definitive period had been placed at the end of our story, and all that was left was for time to slowly erase her from my life. But then, on a cold day right before the holidays, a bouquet of 999 red roses was delivered to my house. I assumed they were from the woman my parents had set me up with, so I took a picture and posted it online. Caption: “Looks like someone’s ready to get married.” A comment from Claire appeared instantly: “I’m glad you like them.” My face fell. I deleted the post as fast as I could. But it was too late. My phone was already ringing. It was her. “Did you get the flowers?” she asked, her voice cautious. I didn’t answer her question. “What do you want?” My bluntness seemed to catch her off guard. She paused, then pressed on. “Leo’s custody hearing is next week. Gerry said it’s a sure thing.” “Once the case is over, we’ll go get a divorce.” “And then what?” I asked, my voice flat. Hearing my response, Claire seemed to think I was just being sarcastic, but the fact that I was engaging at all gave her a flicker of hope. I could hear the relief in her voice. “Alex, don’t worry,” she said, her words rushing out. “I promise I won’t be late this time!” She sounded so sure of herself. But the very next day, a wedding invitation from Gerry landed in my inbox. 4 I stared at the invitation, a design I had dreamed of a thousand times for my own wedding. But now, it featured a photo of two other people, locked in a passionate embrace. Gerry and Claire. The memories, sharp and painful, came flooding back. All those times I had offered up my heart, only to have it drenched in ice-cold indifference. My hands started to tremble. I remembered my first proposal. The cheers of our friends, me down on one knee, the ring box already open in my hand. Then Claire’s phone rang with that special ringtone she’d set for him, and without a moment’s hesitation, she turned and ran, leaving me kneeling in a crowd of our stunned friends. The second proposal. Worried that Leo might get hurt if he was out of her sight, she brought him with her. He ended up choking on a glass of water and had to be rushed to the hospital. The third. A friend suggested I surprise her, so I chose a movie theater. I painstakingly edited three years of footage down to a two-minute highlight reel of our happiest moments, ready to propose the second the credits rolled. But Claire didn’t even make it through the opening scene. Leo was upset about getting a bad grade in math, so she snuck out with him and took him to an amusement park. We couldn’t reach her for hours and ended up calling the police, thinking something terrible had happened. The fourth time… The fifth… Each broken promise, each casual disregard, was another knife twisting in my heart. I remembered that just a few days after the amusement park fiasco, I saw a video of them online. A local news crew was interviewing people at the park. The reporter leaned down to Leo. “Hey there, little guy! It’s Valentine’s Day! Did your daddy get your mommy a gift?” Leo, his eyes wide, chirped excitedly, “He did! Daddy gave Mommy a kiss!” And Claire, standing right beside him, just offered a shy, complicit smile. Back then, I had hypnotized myself into believing it was just a kid talking, that I couldn’t trust it unless I saw it with my own eyes. But now, here it was. The proof, preserved in a photograph, printed on an invitation sent to every single person we knew. I finally understood. Some things, no matter how hard you fight for them, are just not meant to be. Waiting for someone to come back to you is the most foolish act of all. Two weeks later, I ran into Gerry at the entrance to City Hall. He looked sour, and a flash of malice crossed his face when he saw me. He stared for a beat, then let out a smirk. “Alex. Still playing the devoted puppy, I see.” “What are you, a stalker now? You really think if you just wait long enough, Claire will come running back to you?” He leaned in, his voice dripping with scorn. “I bet you don’t even know. All your so-called friends, the ones who got our invitation? They’ve started a bunch of private group chats just to laugh at you, the guy who wasted years for nothing.” I had been about to ignore him and walk past, but his words stopped me. Did he really think I was here to wait for him and Claire to get divorced so I could immediately take his place? I was in no mood for his games. I shot him a sidelong glance. “You’re pathetic.” Just as I said it, Leo, who had been glaring at me with pure hatred, charged forward like a little cannonball. “You’re the bad guy! It’s all your fault! You’re trying to steal my mommy!” he screamed. “You don’t want me to have a family! You should just die!” He was small, but he was solid, and the impact was surprisingly strong. I stumbled backward down the three steps, my body lurching toward the busy street. For a split second, I saw the blur of oncoming traffic. Then, a slender, elegant figure rushed in from the side, grabbing my arm and yanking me back onto the safety of the sidewalk. “I leave you alone for two minutes to park the car, and you’re already getting bullied?”
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