How many times had it been? One call from Daniel, saying he felt “a little down” or “couldn’t sleep,” and Cassandra would drop everything to be at his side.
But when I was burning with fever, my wound inflamed, and my body close to collapsing, she brushed me off with a simple text: [Drink some hot water. I’ll come over once I’m done.]
But she never came.
Whenever I complained, Cassandra would just frown and scold, “You’re so troublesome, Nathan. Daniel is all alone out here with nobody to rely on. He needs me.”
On our third anniversary, she also promised to go back with me to the little town where we first met.
Excited, I spent weeks planning every detail, but she just completely forgot and even brushed off, “It’s just an anniversary. We can celebrate next time.”
But on Daniel’s birthday, she started preparing half a month early, booked the most expensive restaurant, bought limited-edition gifts, and posted it all over her feed with a caption: [Happy birthday to the most important man in my life.]
Those memories overlapped with the scene right in front of me until I felt utterly drained.
Maybe I should’ve let go a long time ago.
As such, I turned and walked out.
But behind me, I still heard Cassandra’s soft voice reasoning, “He’s probably just nervous before the wedding. Don’t hold it against him, alright?”
How thoughtful of her to even prepare my excuses for me.
Through the glass storefront, I saw her gently holding Daniel’s hand, guiding him toward that overpriced crystal chandelier.
The sight stung my eyes until I couldn’t look anymore.
That night, she sent me a voice message.
“Nathan, stop making a fuss over nothing. I work myself to the bone every day out there, rain or shine. And when I come home, you sit there sulking with that cold face. Do you have any idea how miserable that makes me feel? We’re about to be a family. I need you to start being more considerate of me.”
Her voice was a little slurred, like she’d been drinking. She even kept mumbling after that, but I turned it off.
She said she was tired and needed to be understood.
Then fine. If that would make her happy, then I’d give her what she wanted.
The day before the wedding, Cassandra must’ve been holding it in too long and finally called me.
“Nathan, you’ve confirmed all the wedding details, right? Tomorrow we go to the county clerk's office first, then to the venue. You’re clear on the schedule?”