It took ten years for Margot to finally say yes to my proposal. It took three hours and two extra martinis at our engagement party for her to destroy it. She was usually the picture of icy composure—the kind of CEO who never let a hair fall out of place. But tonight, the alcohol stripped that veneer away. She screamed that I was embarrassing her, that I didn’t know my place, and then, with a cruelty I’d never seen, she kicked me out of the Uber. "Get out, Leo. Just get out." I walked for three hours. The headache from the champagne thumped behind my eyes like a second heartbeat. When I finally unlocked the door to our Tribeca penthouse—the one we were supposed to share as husband and wife—I found her on the sofa. She wasn't alone. She was cradling him. "I regret it," she was whispering, her voice thick with a tenderness she had never shown me. "If you tell me to stop, I will. I’ll call off the wedding right now. Just say the word, Jasper." Watching her stroke his hair, seeing that raw, unguarded affection, I felt something inside me quietly snap. I decided then and there. I wasn't going to wait for her to cancel the wedding. I was going to disappear. No one could have predicted that after I vanished, the woman who had always been so aloof, so perfectly detached, would lose her mind trying to find me. 1 I kicked the dress shoes off my feet. They were an engagement gift from Margot. Italian leather, beautiful, and a size too small. I’d worn them all night to please her, and now my heels were blistered and bloody. I left them there in the hallway. I’d rather walk barefoot on broken glass than put them on again. I dialed the number I hadn’t used in years. The ringback tone sounded foreign, connecting to a villa somewhere in the Napa Valley hills. "Dad? It’s me. I’m not getting married. I want to come home." There was a heavy silence on the line, then a sigh that sounded like relief. "Okay, Leo. I’m getting old. The vineyards, the business... it’s all going to be yours eventually anyway. Come out here. It’s time." I choked back a sob. "I heard you, Leo," Dad said softly. "I thought Margot was different... I didn't think you'd end up walking the same road your mother and I did." He paused. "Don't cry, son. You’re young. A man’s world isn’t just marriage and heirs. Build something of your own. Just know I’m waiting for you." Before tonight, I thought Margot was different, too. She was a self-made powerhouse, dignified, fiercely private. She kept every man at arm's length. Even after she made the Forbes list, there was never a scandal, never a rumor. Until tonight. Until Jasper walked into the party uninvited. For the first time in her life, I saw Margot shatter a glass. For the first time, she lost her temper over nothing, turning her rage on me and leaving me on a street corner. If it had been anyone else, I might have chalked it up to stress. I might have given her another decade of my life, asking for nothing in return. But the man in our living room was Jasper. Jasper, who had tormented me for twenty years. Jasper, who had taken everything from me. The one person on this earth I could never forgive. Seeing her bring him into our sanctuary was the final blow. I should have walked away then. But my hand, acting on its own masochistic impulse, opened the app for the living room security cameras on my phone. On the screen, Jasper was wearing my silk pajamas. Margot—the woman who never did chores, the woman who called my casual drinking "undisciplined"—was in the kitchen, carefully preparing a hangover cure for him. Jasper looked up at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "You’re really going to marry the substitute?" Margot didn’t answer. She knelt before him and began to massage his foot. "You don't have to say it," Jasper laughed, cruel and easy. "I know you did all this to piss me off. The big engagement party? Just a flare gun to get my attention. You can’t get over me. Look at this place. Industrial chic, just like I like. The ring you bought him? My style. The cake had our initials, really, didn't it? Even the shoes on his feet... those are the ones I told you I liked, aren't they?" Jasper pressed his foot against her chest, right over her heart. "You’ve always loved me, Margot." She said nothing. She just stared at him for a long beat, and then, she buried her face in his lap, sobbing, before pulling him into a kiss so desperate it looked like she was trying to breathe through him. I stood in the hallway, tears streaming down my face. In ten years, whenever I tried to kiss her with any passion, she would turn her cheek. I thought she was reserved. I thought she was shy. She wasn't. She was just saving all her fire for Jasper. For a decade, she gave me her body, her time, and her loyalty. But she kept her soul in a jar, waiting for him. I took a deep breath and turned to leave. But before I could reach the elevator, the door opened. Margot stood there. She froze when she saw me, instinctively dropping Jasper’s hand. "Jasper had too much to drink," she said, her voice rushing. "He’s... he’s practically your brother, Leo. I couldn't leave him on the street. He’s a good man, he has boundaries. He insisted on leaving so you wouldn't misunderstand." Margot, usually a woman of few words, suddenly couldn't stop talking. Every sentence was a shield for him. I looked at her and felt... nothing. Just a cold sense of unfamiliarity. I was the one who grew up with her. I was the one who stood by her while she built her empire from a garage startup to a conglomerate. How did I end up being the placeholder? "He’s not my brother," I said, my voice flat. "He’s the bastard son of the mistress who destroyed my family." Margot’s face hardened. "Leo! How can you be so vicious? Apologize to him. Now." She stepped between us, pushing me back toward the curb. "No wonder your parents left you behind. No wonder people find you hard to love. You’re bitter, Leo. It’s ugly." The moonlight hit her face, illuminating the fierce protectiveness in her eyes. It superimposed perfectly over a memory I had buried. Years ago, when we were just kids. My mother had gotten pregnant by another man—Jasper’s father—and forced my dad into a divorce so she could be with her lover. My dad left the country in a rage. I was the debris left behind. Back then, whenever the neighbors whispered or the kids bullied me, Margot would stand in front of me, just like this. “Leo is the best person in the world,” she would scream. “If no one else wants him, I will. I’ll love him forever.” I had built my entire life on that promise. I worked myself into the ground to escape my toxic family, to be worthy of the home I thought we were building. But whenever I brought up that memory, she would frown and dismiss it. "We were children, Leo. It meant nothing." And now, with Jasper back, she didn't even bother with the gentle dismissal. No wonder people find you hard to love. I looked away, my eyes burning. Maybe she saw the blood seeping through my socks. Maybe she realized she’d gone too far. Her expression softened, just a fraction. "Look," she sighed. "I’ll pretend you’re just drunk tonight. Tomorrow—" "There is no tomorrow," I said. "What?" Before she could demand an explanation, Jasper let out a theatrical sob and ran down the street. Margot didn't hesitate. She didn't look at me. She chased after him. She moved so fast that something fell out of her pocket. A silver necklace with a star pendant. I picked it up. I thought of the small tattoo of a star she had over her heart. A tribute to him. Jasper. The pieces clicked into place. The ten years of devotion were just a play I was acting in alone. I turned and went upstairs. My phone buzzed. A text from Dad. Flight booked. Two weeks from now. The day of the wedding. The countdown clock on the living room wall—14 Days Until "I Do"—was now a countdown to my escape. I laughed, a dry, hollow sound. I grabbed a trash bag and started clearing the apartment. Every decoration, every photo, every "couple's item." Fate has a twisted sense of humor. I had two weeks. Two weeks to say goodbye to the life I thought was mine. The next morning, I was woken up by Margot’s ringtone. "Leo? You up? I sent over those soup dumplings you like. I’m not coming home today—crisis at the office. We’ll have to reschedule the engagement shoot." She paused, then added, "And don't worry about last night. I apologized to Jasper for you." "Okay," I said. She was surprised by my lack of fight. "You know... the wedding is just a formality. We know how we feel. We don't need a circus to prove it. Let's keep things simple." "Okay. Simple." Simple meant no marriage license. No photos. No officiant. And, ultimately, no groom. I hung up and walked to the wall calendar. I took a thick black marker and crossed out Wedding Photos. Margot was always too busy for me. So, I had filled the calendar with things I wanted us to do during the "wedding month." A bucket list of small happinesses. Now, I watched them disappear under the black ink. I handed in my resignation. I went out for drinks with my few close friends. I told them the wedding was off. "We kind of guessed," one of them said gently, turning her phone toward me. Margot’s Instagram. She never posted me. Not once in ten years. But her stories were full of him. Jasper’s silhouette at the beach. Jasper at a theme park. Jasper trying on suits. She was showing him off to the world while keeping me in the dark. "Leo, you don't deserve this," my friend said. "She's going to regret this. That guy is trash." "It doesn't matter," I said, looking out the window at the New York skyline. "I’m already gone." When Margot finally came home days later, thumbing rapidly through emails, she barely looked up. "Place looks empty. Did you send the decorations back?" "You said keep it simple." She blinked, then looked at the countdown. "Seven days. God, it flies." I ripped two pages off the calendar. "Five days, actually." The pages I ripped off said Ferris Wheel at Sunset and Private Dinner. She didn't notice. "Don't plan a honeymoon," she said, distracted. "I can't leave the city." "I know." She wouldn't leave Jasper. I pulled the star necklace out of my pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes lit up in a way they never did for me. "You found it! I’ve been looking everywhere." "I saw the reward post you put up." She had offered ten thousand dollars for a cheap silver necklace. Our entire wedding budget was less than fifty. "Where's your engagement ring?" I asked. She looked at her bare hand, feigning surprise. "Oh. I must have left it at the gym..." Her phone dinged. A specific, custom tone. Jasper. She kissed my forehead, already moving toward the door. "Sorry, hubby. Work emergency. Handle the wedding stuff for me? Once this deal closes, I promise, I’ll make you the happiest man alive." She was suddenly full of sweet nothings. Before, I would have melted. Now, I just went to the bathroom and scrubbed the spot where her lips had touched my skin. The day before the wedding. Calendar item: Family Reunion Dinner. My biggest wish. And the most impossible one. My dad wouldn't forgive my mother. I wouldn't forgive Margot. I went to the Top of the Rock alone to watch the sunset. The city turned gold and violet, and I felt the memories detaching from me, drifting away on the wind. Check phone. Jasper had posted a new photo. A dinner table. My mother, smiling. Margot, putting food on Jasper’s plate. Caption: Parents meeting. Finalizing the wedding details. I didn't feel angry. I just found it funny. Whose wedding? I blocked Jasper. I typed a message to Margot, deleted it, and typed it again. I never sent it. Just as I was leaving, Margot called. "Where are you? Send me your location. I miss you." She picked me up twenty minutes later. There was a basketball-shaped pillow in the passenger seat. And an open box of condoms in the center console. I sat in the back. "Why the sudden urge for sightseeing?" she asked, checking her mirrors. "I know I promised to take you here. We'll do it properly when I have time. Oh, by the way—my mom wants to see you." We arrived at the old family estate. The dinner was over; only scraps remained. Margot’s mother grabbed my hand. "Leo, honey. You know I like you. You’re not rich, but you’re safe. Domestic." She shot a glance at Jasper, who was lounging on the sofa. "Margot could do better, status-wise, but I told her—status isn't everything. Not every man is willing to be a house-husband. You should quit your job after the wedding. Focus on taking care of her." I nodded, zoning out. Margot walked over with a garment bag. "You were busy, so I had Jasper pick up the suits. He has better taste anyway." She pulled out a suit. It was used. Frayed at the cuffs. It smelled like mothballs. Jasper, meanwhile, was wearing a pristine, white bespoke tuxedo. "The shop must have mixed them up," Margot said, flustered. "It’s late... just wear it for the rehearsal photos. I'll fix it tomorrow." "It's fine," I said. We lined up for a photo. Jasper shoved me to the edge, planting himself right next to Margot. When the shutter clicked, he "accidentally" elbowed me. The result: A beautiful portrait of Margot and Jasper, with a blurry, half-out-of-frame ghost that was me. "We should retake that," Margot said. "Maybe another time," I said. "I'm tired." Jasper’s eyes welled up with fake tears. "I'm so sorry, Leo. I didn't mean to ruin it. I'll drive all over the city tonight to find you a better suit. I promise." He ran out of the room, weeping. Margot glared at me. "Look what you did." She ran after him. I picked up the shabby suit and took an Uber home. It was 2:00 AM. I was packing the last of my things when I found an old leather notebook in a drawer. Margot’s diary. It detailed the year she was broke, living in a hostel, where she met Jasper. The crucial pages were ripped out, leaving only one line: The happiest days of my life. I flipped to the entry from the day she proposed to me. I was young and stupid. I mistook mud for gold and let the star go. No matter how hard I try, I can't turn Leo into Jasper. But the past is dead. For Jasper’s sake, I will be kind to Leo. Her handwriting was elegant, sharp. I can't turn Leo into Jasper. I looked around the room. The watches, the car, the clothes I wore, the cologne she bought me—it was all Jasper’s taste. I looked in the mirror. The haircut she insisted on. The gray hoodie. I was a walking, breathing cosplay of the man she actually wanted. She saw Jasper destroy me for years, and she sided with him. She knew he was my nightmare, and she turned me into his reflection. Rage, cold and clarifying, washed over me. I smashed the mirror. I grabbed a pair of scissors and shaved my head, destroying the "Jasper cut." I ripped the final page off the calendar. The Wish: Marry the love of my life. I crumbled the paper and dropped it in the trash. I took nothing but my passport and my phone. I walked out the door, hailed a cab, and told the driver: "JFK. International Terminal." At noon, just as I buckled my seatbelt in First Class, Margot called.
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