"Throw it all out. Even if it weren't disposable, three years in storage would rot it."

Just like her love for me.

It would fade with time until nothing remained.

After I hung up, I pulled up Isabella Delgado's number and stared at it, dreading the conversation.

She despised Graham. If she found out her daughter had already gotten a marriage license with him, she'd probably have a stroke.

I took a deep breath and wired back the eighty-eight thousand dollars of dowry money she'd transferred to me.

I counted to three in my head. The phone rang.

"Wilfred, why did you send the money back?"

"Mom, Carrie and I are putting the wedding on hold. I'm going abroad for three years."

Even though I was telling the truth, Isabella was too sharp not to sense something was wrong.

"Did Carrie do something to hurt you? I'm going over there right now! The wedding is happening tomorrow, and that's final!"

"Ma'am, the wedding really can't go forward..."

But Isabella had already hung up.

That was Carrie's headache now, figuring out how to handle her own mother.

And it was time for me to pack and leave.

The apartment was decked out for a newlywed couple. Every detail reflected the happy life I'd imagined after the wedding.

Now every single one of them was a blade buried in my chest.

There wasn't much to take. One suitcase, not even full.

But there was plenty to throw away.

By the time I finished, I noticed Carrie had called me several times.

Didn't take a genius to figure out why. She was going to blame me for not handling Isabella.

I left the key on the entryway table and grabbed the last framed wedding photo on my way out.

I walked straight into Carrie.

The photo crashed to the floor and shattered.

A shard sliced across the top of my foot, and blood welled up immediately.

Carrie shoved Graham behind her, shielding him, and glared at me.

"Wilfred, what the hell? Didn't you see Graham standing there? What if you'd hurt him?"

She didn't see the blood pooling on my foot. Instead, she crouched down and carefully picked a speck of glass no bigger than a pea off Graham's shoe.

I had no interest in watching her dote on another man. I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.

She caught the suitcase in her peripheral vision and scrambled to her feet, grabbing my arm.

"Wilfred, where are you going?"

I was about to answer when her phone rang.

I saw the caller ID. Isabella.