Written Out of His Life

On our seventh anniversary, my fiancé, Julian, and his childhood best friend, Mia, were playing the "Couples' Quiz" game again. Question one: What is Julian’s favorite food? I wrote: Seafood. Mia wrote: Sushi, which he absolutely hates. Julian gave the point to Mia, his tone casual. "People’s tastes change." Out of ten questions, Mia got nine right. I, his actual fiancée, only got three. As a reward, Julian handed her the tickets for the Northern Lights cruise—the trip he had promised to take with me. Seeing me stare at Mia’s name printed on the tickets, his expression didn't even flicker. "I made a typo when I booked them. Calling customer service to change the name is too much of a hassle." Mia waved the boarding passes, smiling innocently. "It’s just a game reward, Chloe. Let's not waste them!" This wasn't the first time. Over the past seven years, the reservation name at romantic restaurants was always hers. The emergency contact on his HR forms at work was her. Even on our wedding invitations, the name printed under "Bride" was hers. Whenever I got upset, Julian would just frown. "It’s a tiny mistake. Do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?" I used to think he was just careless. But now, I could no longer lie to myself. It wasn't the information that was being filled out wrong. It was my place in his heart. I canceled the wedding, terminated the lease on our future home, and deleted his number. Since he wanted to cross me out of his life time and time again... This time, I’d grant his wish. When the front door unlocked, I had just pushed the last cardboard box into the entryway. Julian walked in with Mia, followed by a few friends who had been at the anniversary party. He paused when he saw the half-empty living room. "Chloe, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?" I taped up the final box without looking up. "I'm moving out." Mia clutched the two cruise tickets, her eyes scanning my boxes. She let out a soft sigh. "If I knew a silly little game would make Chloe this jealous, I wouldn't have gone." Julian tossed his car keys onto the kitchen island. "The tickets are already issued. If she wants to throw a fit, let her. It has nothing to do with you, Mia." The friends standing nearby laughed awkwardly, trying to smooth things over. "Come on, Chloe. Julian was just joking around. Are you seriously canceling the wedding over this?" "You guys made it seven years. You're gonna throw that away over a typo on an invitation?" "Besides, what does it matter whose name is on the invite? You're the one signing the marriage license at City Hall, right?" I looked up at them. "You guys knew?" The living room fell dead silent. The guy who spoke first rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, not that early. Just since the day Mia tried on the veil. We thought it was kind of a funny prank. We wanted to see how long it would take you to notice." So they all knew. I was the only one kept in the dark. Julian frowned and cut in. "Enough. It's not a big deal. Stop acting like the world is ending." He walked over to me and ripped the packing tape off my box. "Put your stuff back. I’ll call the wedding planner. Any cancellation fees you incurred from acting out will be deducted from our travel fund." I stared at him. "You already emptied the travel fund." Julian didn't even blink. "Mia is rarely back in the States. The deposit for the wedding dress alterations and the cruise had to be paid upfront. I just borrowed it for a cash flow issue." "There was $35,000 of my own savings in that account," I said. "I’ll pay you back after the wedding. Do you really have to be this petty and calculating right now?" I gripped the edge of the cardboard box. It wasn't that he didn't know what belonged to me. He just felt that what was mine didn't matter. Mia looked down, clutching the tickets. "Maybe I should just pay Chloe back... I'm a little tight on money right now, but I don't want her misunderstanding you, Julian." Julian’s tone instantly softened. "This has nothing to do with you." He looked back at me. "Mia's health hasn't been great. I agreed to go on the cruise with her because it's not safe for her to be at sea alone." "So you get to use my money and my tickets to do it?" I asked. His brows knitted tightly together. "Chloe, you’re twenty-eight years old. Can you stop fighting over petty nonsense like a high schooler?" I let out a sudden, dry laugh. Even now, he thought this was just "petty nonsense." Julian leaned over, unzipped my suitcase, and started pulling my clothes out to put them back in the closet. But as he reached into the inner compartment, he found my passport and ID. He froze. "Where are you going?" "None of your business." I reached for them, but he snatched my passport and shoved it into his suit pocket. "I'm not letting you run off in a fit of rage. The rehearsal dinner is in a few days, and you will be there." "When you finally calm down, I'll give this back to you." He walked straight into his home office and locked my documents inside his digital safe. Before he left the apartment, he didn't even look back at me. Once everyone was gone, I walked into the office and stood in front of the safe. I typed in the date of our anniversary—the day we made it official. The screen flashed red: Error. When we moved in seven years ago, Julian looked me in the eyes and promised that password would never change. Staring at the keypad, I suddenly remembered Mia’s birthday. I punched in the six digits. Click. The heavy metal door swung open. I guess his "never" had an expiration date of seven years. My passport was sitting right on top. Beneath it was a newly printed stack of contracts from our wedding planner. The bride’s name was still Mia. Even the confirmation sheet for our marriage license appointment at City Hall had Mia’s social security number on it instead of mine. I grabbed my passport and the appointment sheet, grabbed my suitcase, and left. Half an hour later, my phone rang from an unknown number. It was Julian. "Who gave you permission to open my safe?" "The password was Mia's birthday. It wasn't hard to guess." I heard his breathing hitch. "Put the City Hall appointment sheet back. It's just a prop for the wedding planner." "Since when do government appointments double as props?" The line was quiet for a moment. "Mia wanted to do a photoshoot with a 'Just Married' theme, and she needed the appointment confirmation page for the background. After the shoot, I was going to change the information back to yours." After the shoot. Change it back. As if typing my name at the very end would magically erase the betrayal. "Tonight is my grandmother’s birthday dinner. You have to be there. They found out you canceled the wedding vendors, and you are going to explain yourself to them." "I'm not going." His voice grew irritated. "Chloe, playing hard to get doesn't work on me." I hung up on him. That evening, the manager of a luxury hotel called me. Someone had found my jewelry box. It held a jade bracelet—the only heirloom my mother left me before she died. I had looked everywhere for it while packing, never expecting I had left it at the hotel from the anniversary party. I rushed over immediately. When I pushed open the doors to the private dining room, Julian's entire family was seated around the table. Mia was sitting in the seat of honor next to Julian. On her finger was my engagement ring. Seeing me, she quickly pulled it off. "Chloe, don't misunderstand. Julian's grandma said this ring looked good on my skin tone, so I was just trying it on." Julian's grandmother didn't even look guilty. "It's just a ring. If she wants to wear it for a minute, let her." In the past, I would have spiraled, agonizing over whether Julian's family liked Mia more than me, and I would have bent over backward to please them. But now, I just walked straight up to Julian. "Give me my jewelry box." He pressed his fingers flat against the lid of the box. "Did you leak the video of the anniversary party online?" "No." "Only a few people knew that video existed." He stared at me, his eyes filled with a cold, absolute certainty. "Now everyone is calling Mia a homewrecker online. She hasn't slept in two days. Are you happy now?" I looked at him. "So you’re holding my dead mother's heirloom hostage to get revenge for her?" He didn't deny it. "Apologize to Mia in front of everyone, and I'll give it back to you." Mia's eyes welled with tears. "Julian, it's okay. Chloe is just acting out because she loves you too much." The rest of the table immediately chimed in. "Mia is so mature." "Chloe has always loved picking fights over the dumbest things." I picked up a glass of wine and slowly poured it into the trash can. "I didn't post the video. And I am not apologizing." Mia suddenly stood up. "Chloe, you can be mad at me, but please don't ruin Grandma's birthday." I pulled my hand back to leave, but she stumbled forward, knocking over a bowl of boiling hot soup. The scalding liquid splashed directly across the back of my hand. "Are you burned?!" Julian instantly pulled Mia into his arms, checking her frantically. Mia shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm fine. Check on Chloe!" Only then did Julian turn to me. "You know she has terrible balance. Why did you shove her?" He grabbed my wrist tightly, his thumb pressing directly onto my raw, blistering burn. "Apologize to her." "And if I don't?" The searing pain drilled into my bones. Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but he only gripped me harder. "Tonight is my grandmother's birthday. Do you really have to make a scene and humiliate everyone?!" Mia leaned into his chest, sobbing. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have sat in Chloe's seat, and I shouldn't have tried on her ring." Julian picked up my engagement ring from the table and slid it back onto Mia's finger. "If you like it, wear it. It's just a ring." Watching this, I suddenly didn't feel the pain in my hand anymore. I lowered my eyes. I stopped struggling. I stopped defending myself. Thinking I had finally submitted, Julian loosened his grip. I snatched my jewelry box off the table, turned on my heel, and walked out. Behind me, I heard a relative ask, "Aren't you going to go after her?" Julian's voice was ice-cold. "Let her go. I want to see how she tries to crawl her way back to me this time." My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. All my endless compromises over the years had made him absolutely certain that I couldn't live without him. But this time, I was truly, deeply exhausted. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A bank notification. The joint account Julian and I had shared for seven years had just been emptied. The remaining $15,000 had been transferred out. The transaction memo read: Wedding dress final payment. The next morning, I took my bank statements directly to the bridal boutique. The manager looked at the papers, her face full of pity. "Ms. Chloe, the final payment did come from your joint account, but the contract is under Mr. Julian's name. The dress has already been altered. We can't issue a refund." "Half of the money in that account is mine," I said. "I'm sorry, but any disputes over joint funds have to be settled between you and your fiancé." Just then, the curtains to the fitting room were pulled back. Mia stepped out wearing my custom-made wedding dress. The waistline had been taken in by two inches. Seeing me, her smile grew radiant. "Chloe! What are you doing here?" Julian stepped out from behind her. He had been adjusting her train. He didn't even look up at me. "Realized you were wrong?" I didn't answer his question. "That last fifteen grand in the account was my surgery fund." Three months ago, I found out I was pregnant. But during an ultrasound, my doctor found a rapidly growing ovarian cyst that was threatening the pregnancy and my health. I needed surgery immediately. Julian had promised to take time off and be at the hospital with me before the wedding. But when Mia moved back to the States, he was too busy helping her unpack, booking her dinners, and doing wedding photoshoots with her. My surgery kept getting pushed back. Julian went silent for a moment. "Didn't the biopsy say it was a benign cyst? Since it's not life-threatening right now, just wait a few more days." I looked at him. "The doctor said it's growing too fast. It's going to rupture if we wait." He frowned. "The dress is already altered. If we don't pay the final balance now, everything we spent on it goes down the drain. I'll figure out a way to pay for your surgery later. It won't delay your treatment." "But you knew exactly what that money was saved for." Impatience flashed across Julian's face. "Stop trying to use the baby to manipulate me." I suddenly lost all energy to speak. In his eyes, my health—my life—was just something that could be pushed to the back of the line. Mia lifted the skirt of the dress and walked over. "Chloe, if you're really that sick, I don't have to wear this dress." "It's just... the designer stayed up for three nights altering it, and Julian came with me to fifteen different fittings. If we refund it now, all our hard work will be for nothing." I looked at her. "You used my money, to alter my dress. What 'hard work' did you possibly put into this?" Mia's face went stark white. Julian immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from me. "I transferred the money. If you're pissed off, take it out on me. Don't take your anger out on Mia." He pulled a debit card from his wallet and shoved it into my hand. "There's five grand on this. Use it to pay the hospital admission deposit. I'll transfer the rest to you in a few days." I didn't take it. The card fell to the marble floor. Mia clutched her chest, her eyes turning red. "Chloe... I grew up never being chosen by anyone. I just wanted to borrow your life for one day." Julian instantly scooped her up into his arms. When he glared at me, his eyes were piercingly cold. "You know she can't handle stress, yet you purposely corner her like this. Are you satisfied now?" He carried Mia toward the exit. As he passed me, he paused. "I'll have my assistant schedule your surgery. Stay the hell away from Mia." His assistant picked up the fallen debit card and tried to hand it to me, whispering, "Ms. Chloe, your health comes first. Just take it for now." I didn't take it. My phone vibrated. It was my OB-GYN. "Chloe, your latest scan results are back. The cyst is compressing the area much worse than before. We can't wait anymore. Can your family come with you to the hospital today?" I watched Julian carry Mia out the front doors. "I don't have any family," I said. The doctor paused. "Then find a friend. The surgery has risks, and you'll need someone to take care of you during recovery." "Okay," I whispered. After I hung up, the digital display screen in the bridal shop began autoplaying a sample wedding video. On the screen, Julian stood at the altar while Mia, wearing my veil, walked down the aisle toward him. In the background audio, a cameraman jokingly asked, "What if Chloe actually leaves you?" Julian looked directly into the lens and smiled lazily. "She won't." The day of my hospital admission, Julian texted me an address. "Be here at 7:00 PM to sort out this video mess. The rumors online are starting to drag Mia and her family through the mud. Is this what you wanted?" I didn't reply. At 7:05 PM, he sent a photo. It was a VIP lounge at a private club. A tripod camera was set up, and on the table lay a printed apology script and an NDA. The script stated that the anniversary video was maliciously edited by me out of jealousy, that the digital wedding invites were faked, and that Mia never interfered in our relationship. "You will be on camera at 7:30 PM to clear her name. If you don't show up, my lawyers will sue you for defamation and freeze all your assets." When I arrived at the club, Mia and all their friends were there. Julian checked his watch and pushed the documents toward me. "You have ten minutes. Sign it, then read the script into the camera." I clutched my violently cramping abdomen and sat down. "I didn't post the video. I'm not signing anything." "It doesn't matter who posted it anymore," he said, tapping a pen against the table. "Adults solve problems. You're the only one who can make this go away." The friends around him chimed in. "Exactly. Mia has compromised enough. You should be over it by now." "It's just a short video. You can't let the internet bully Mia forever." I looked at him. For the very last time, I spoke. "I'm having surgery tomorrow." Julian glanced at me, unimpressed. "Last week it was just a benign cyst. Now suddenly it requires emergency surgery tomorrow?" He tossed his phone onto the table, his tone dripping with apathy. "Chloe, our child is not a bargaining chip for your petty jealousy." Someone at the table, who had clearly had too much to drink, laughed and pulled up an old video on their phone to break the tension. "Man, remember how Julian chased Chloe back in college? That was wild. Mia, do you remember that bet?" Julian's face drained of color. "Turn that off!" But the video was already casting onto the lounge's TV screen. The footage showed a nineteen-year-old Julian leaning against the bleachers, looking young and reckless. A friend asked him, "Mia shot you down again? Are you seriously gonna date someone else just to make her jealous?" Julian glanced across the field. The camera panned over. It showed a nineteen-year-old me, carrying a stack of textbooks, walking past the bleachers. "Her," the Julian in the video laughed. "She looks sweet. Probably easy to string along." I sat perfectly still, staring at the screen. Every ounce of emotion in my chest evaporated into thin air. So our entire beginning... was just a game. Julian snatched the phone and killed the projection. "That was a stupid joke from seven years ago. It means nothing." I looked up at him. "The restaurant reservations, the concert tickets, the medical forms, the cruise tickets... for seven years, every 'typo' was intentional, wasn't it?" Julian didn't answer. Mia spoke up, her voice small. "At first, we just wanted to see if you would notice. But when you fell for it every single time, we just... thought it was funny." A sudden, blinding spike of pain ripped through my abdomen. I doubled over, cold sweat instantly soaking through my shirt. Julian noticed something was wrong and reached out to catch me, but before he could, Mia suddenly grabbed her stomach. "Julian... I feel so sick." Julian's face went white with panic. He immediately dropped his hand, rushed over to Mia, and scooped her up into his arms. I endured the excruciating, twisting pain in my gut. "Julian... take me to the hospital." He furrowed his brows and peeled my fingers off his sleeve one by one. "Stop acting. Mia is having a panic attack, I need to get her to the ER." "I'll come back for you when she's stable." Without another word, he carried Mia out of the lounge, never once looking back. I tried to follow him, but the pain became unbearable. My vision went black, and I collapsed onto the carpet. The friends at the table finally realized I wasn't faking and frantically dialed 911. As the paramedics loaded me into the ambulance, my phone lit up. A text from Julian. "Stop using your health as an excuse. You have three days to go live and clear Mia's name, or my lawyers are filing the lawsuit." I didn't reply. When the ambulance reached the hospital, the surgeon shoved a consent form into my hands. "This is an emergency. When will your family be here?" I gripped the pen, fighting through the agonizing pain, and signed my own name on the contact line. "I don't have family. I'm signing for myself." As the doors to the operating room began to close, I pulled out my phone and hit 'Send'. The anniversary video, the original wedding invitations, the bank transfer logs, and the video of the bet from seven years ago—I sent it all directly to my lawyer. Then I looked up at the surgeon. "Cancel the prenatal care. Schedule the cyst removal. I'm not keeping the baby."

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