I finally saw Caleb again after five years of silence. We were at my best friend’s wedding. He was the groom. I was the bridesmaid. My best friend, Maya, giggled as she leaned in to share their love story: "I actually saved him after his car crash. I heard he had a fiancée back home, but I didn't care. I moved him across the country that same night to get him 'better treatment'." "Pretty bold move, right? Admit it, your girl is a total badass." 1 Maya kept talking, her voice bubbling with excitement, but I couldn't hear a word. All I could hear was a high-pitched, deafening ringing in my ears. Five years. Nearly two thousand days and nights. The man I loved most had been hidden away by my best friend for five entire years. I doubled over, gasping for air, my body shaking uncontrollably. Maya noticed my face and rushed to steady me, leading me toward the bridal suite. "Clara? What’s wrong? Is it another panic attack?" she asked, her voice laced with forced concern. For five years, I had searched for Caleb. I had traveled to every city, questioned every witness, posted missing person flyers on every street corner, and spent my savings on private investigators. Even his own family had given up. I was the only one left looking. On countless dark nights, I had stood on the edge of subway platforms, wondering if I should just let the darkness swallow me whole. And now, it was all a sick joke. I looked at the faint white scars on my right wrist—marks of a pain that never truly healed. My chest felt like it was being ripped open. Maya sighed. "Are you still thinking about your ex? Let it go, Clara. It’s been five years. He’s probably dead." "Look, after the honeymoon, I’ll set you up with one of Caleb’s groomsmen. They’re all great guys." Just then, Caleb walked in. He was in a sharp black tuxedo, tall and poised, looking exactly as he did five years ago. Our eyes met. He offered me a flat, indifferent glance before stepping forward to fix Maya’s veil. Behind him were the groomsmen—his old friends, people I had known for years. When they saw me, they looked away, their expressions full of guilt and unspoken words. A moment ago, I could have lied to myself. I could have hoped he had amnesia. But the looks on his friends' faces told me everything. He hadn't forgotten. He knew exactly who I was. He just didn't love me anymore. Maya beamed. "Honey, tell your friends to stick around for the after-party tonight. We’re going to have a blast." She winked at me. Caleb gave a curt nod, never looking back in my direction. It was as if we were total strangers. I closed my eyes. My heart felt like it was being crushed, then carved out and thrown into a furnace. I had never felt this kind of agonizing madness. I needed an exit. I stood up and bolted into the restroom. I slammed my forehead against the tiled wall. Thud. The impact sent a shock through my system, and blood began to trickle down my face. The world blurred. I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, my breath coming in ragged hitches. I hit the back of my head against the wall again. And again. It was the only way to drown out the pain in my soul. "Caleb..." I whispered, a broken laugh escaping my lips. "You really didn't want me after all." 2 By the time I walked out of the restroom, the ceremony had started. Maya had found someone else to fill in for me. I stood at the very back of the chapel, watching her smile as she said, "I do." Caleb dropped to one knee with practiced solemnity, sliding a diamond ring onto her finger. A jagged spark of jealousy flared in my gut. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear that dress off her and ask why she stole my life. I wanted to ask Caleb why he was pretending I didn't exist. Why he never came home. I wanted to burn the whole place down. But I didn't. I sat in the corner and, once they were pronounced husband and wife, I was the first one to start clapping. I clapped so loudly that people turned to stare. I didn't care. When Caleb finally looked toward the back of the room, I met his gaze. My eyes filled with tears I couldn't hold back. Caleb’s brow twitched for a split second, then he looked away. His dark eyes remained cold and empty. I squeezed my hands into fists. I felt like I was losing my mind. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text: [Caleb, I’m not going to wish you a happy marriage.] [I hope you never get anything you truly want for the rest of your life.] A second later, I realized how stupid I was. The woman he wanted was already standing right next to him. My curse meant nothing. I left before the reception started. If I stayed a moment longer, I knew I would break. Three years ago, when the leads on Caleb went cold again, I had tried to end it. I woke up in a hospital bed with Caleb’s mother holding my hand, begging me to stay alive—for him. But a world without Caleb was too bitter. We had met when we were six. We were high school sweethearts. On the day of our college graduation, we had picked out a date to get our marriage license. He was on his way to meet me when the accident happened. Then he vanished. Now he was back, but the man I loved was gone. 3 I fell into a heavy, feverish sleep. When I finally checked my phone, I had missed calls from Maya and a sympathetic text from Caleb’s mother. And one reply that stood out above the rest. A single, freezing word: [Leave.] I let out a hollow laugh. My years of devotion were nothing but a nuisance to him. I shut myself inside my apartment. I stopped sleeping. My hair fell out in clumps. I didn't leave the house for ten days. I withered away until I was nothing but skin and bone. Finally, Maya showed up at my door, Caleb trailing behind her. I hadn't showered in over a week. I smelled of sweat and despair. Maya didn't care. She hugged me tight, trying to pull me toward the car to take me to the hospital. I knew she was afraid I’d try to kill myself again. I pulled my hand away, my voice cold and distant. "I’m fine. Thank you." I didn't know how to look at her. Hate? Gratitude? I couldn't feel either. I just wanted her away from me. She ignored my coldness, chalking it up to my "condition." "Clara, pick up your phone! Do you know how worried I’ve been?" she scolded. "Starting today, Caleb and I are moving in with you. We’re going to take care of you until you’re back on your feet." "No arguments. It’s settled." She was so bright, so bubbly, so determined. It was impossible not to be swept up by her energy. I could see why Caleb fell for her. I looked at the shadow standing behind her. His eyes were like ice, narrowing as if he were looking at a total stranger. Even if he was cold, even if he was a million miles away, I still craved his presence. Just one more day. One more minute. Even a second. I don't know if I gave in because I needed her care or because of my own selfish heart. I let them move in. This apartment was supposed to be our home. After he vanished, I had decorated it exactly the way he liked it. Everything was in his style. Maya looked around, eyes wide. "Whoa, Clara. Your taste is... intense. Why is everything so dark? It’s so depressing." "Everything is black or gray. There’s no color at all." Because the light left my world, I thought. "My fiancé liked it this way," I said softly. "So I kept it." 4 Maya frowned. "You need to have your own opinions, girl. Don't let a guy dictate your life." "My husband let me pick everything for our place. I make him sleep on pink silk sheets every night." I looked down. I remembered when we first moved in together. I loved pink too. I bought pink towels, pink toothbrushes, pink dishes. I even bought him pink boxers. He never wore them. He hated the sheets so much he slept on the floor until I changed them back to navy. I felt a pang of self-torture and asked, "Does he... sleep on the floor?" Maya laughed, glancing at Caleb. "He wouldn't dare." "He even wears the pink boxers now." A flicker of embarrassment crossed Caleb’s face. He tapped her on the head, trying to quiet her. "What’s wrong with pink sheets? If your fiancé slept on the floor over a color, it just proves he didn't love you enough," Maya added. "You spent years looking for a total jerk." After a long silence, I whispered, "You're right." "Maybe he really didn't love me." I felt Caleb’s gaze linger on me for a moment. His voice was like a blade. "In that case, Miss Lane should have the dignity to move on." "It’s pathetic to interfere in other people's lives. Living in a fantasy only makes people despise you." His words were cruel and direct. Fantasy. He thought my grief was a performance. My eyes stung. "You seem to know a lot about him. Are you the same kind of man?" "The kind who disappears, lets someone wait until their hope dies, and never even offers an apology?" "And then you call it 'living in a fantasy'? I just wanted an explanation. Does five years of my life mean absolutely nothing to you?" Caleb’s jaw tightened. He was losing his patience. "No one asked you to wait. Love and hate are choices. If you chose to waste five years, you should deal with the consequences yourself." "Or did you think your 'sacrifice' would force him to marry you out of pity?" 5 His words were final. I stood there, frozen, as every hope I had ever held collapsed. Tears finally spilled over. His words were like a jagged knife, carving into me over and over again. He was right. It was my choice. No one forced me to wait. So I had to swallow the result alone. Our history, once so solid, now felt like smoke. Maya realized the vibe was becoming toxic and pulled Caleb into their guest room. Her voice drifted through the door, sharp and hushed. "What is wrong with you? She’s clearly not stable, and you’re being a total ass." "Stop provoking her, do you hear me?" Caleb let out a short, mocking laugh. "She’s just putting on a show." I sat in the dark living room for hours. My forehead still throbbed, a physical reminder of my own stupidity. Over the next two weeks, I barely saw Caleb. He went out of his way to avoid me. I became even more of a ghost, staying in my room. Maya was always there, cooking for me, making sure I took my meds. I hated her for being so kind. Her kindness made it impossible for me to even try to take him back. It made me feel like the "other woman" in my own home. But how could I be okay with this? I was jealous of every smile he gave her. I wanted to tear my own eyes out so I didn't have to see them. I even had a dark thought: I wish he had actually died. At least then I could have kept the memory of the man who loved me. I started spending all my time in the living room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him when he came home. But he seemed to sense it. He stopped coming back. "Where is he?" I finally asked Maya. She was scrolling through her phone, smiling. "Oh, he’s been so busy. His company in New York needs him, so he’s been staying at a hotel near the office to get work done." I froze. "New York? He’s been in New York?" "Yeah, for the last three years." I felt the blood drain from my face. "Caleb was in the country three years ago?" "Yeah. He came back to finalize our engagement." I couldn't breathe. My throat felt like it was closing up. He was here. He was in the same country while I was ending up in the ER because I couldn't find him. Maya’s words were like a physical blow to the face. The next second, she jumped up. "Clara, get up! Get dressed!" "Caleb wants me to bring you to a lounge tonight. He wants you to meet someone. I saw a photo—he’s gorgeous. Total upgrade." She dragged me into my room, did my makeup, and picked out an outfit. I let her. I just wanted to see Caleb.
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