Chapter 7
The next few weeks were a blur of legal meetings, paperwork, and sleepless nights. David, predictably, put up a fight. He begged me to reconsider, promised to change, swore he would break things off with Emma. But his words rang hollow.
I had heard it all before.
He even tried to use Ethan against me, coaching him to say how much he missed me, much he wanted me to come home. But Ethan’s heart wasn’t in it. His eyes were cold,
distant. He had already made his choice.
Seeing him like that, so cold and unfeeling, broke my heart all over again.
how
I threw myself into my work, finding solace in the familiar routine of deadlines, presentations, and client meetings. My company, thankfully, was thriving. The new product launch had been a resounding success, and investors were lining up to throw money at us.
“You’re a machine, Evelyn,” my business partner, Lucas, remarked one day as we were leaving the office after another long day. “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard.”
“I don’t have a choice, Lucas,” I replied with a tired smile. “I have to stay busy. It’s the only
way I can cope.”
“You know,” he said, his voice softening, “You’re allowed to slow down, you know? To
grieve. To be angry. You don’t have to pretend to be strong all the time.”
He was right, of course. But showing my vulnerability, letting my guard down, felt too dangerous. I was afraid of what I might find lurking beneath the surface.
“I’m fine, Lucas, really,” I lied. “I’m just… focused.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it. We were friends as well as business partners, and he knew when to give me space.
One evening, as I was leaving the office, I saw him standing there. David.
He looked terrible. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was a mess, and he had dark circles
Our Wedding the Other Women Wore White
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under his eyes. He had lost weight, and his face looked gaunt, haunted.
“Evelyn,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Can we talk?”
I hesitated, unsure what to say. I had been avoiding his calls, ignoring his texts. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to hear his empty apologies, didn’t want to be drawn back into
his web of lies.
But something in his voice, a note of desperation that I had never heard before, made me
stop.
“Fine,” I said wearily. “But make it quick.”
We went to a nearby coffee shop, a familiar haunt from our early days of dating, back when everything was new and exciting, filled with hope and promise. It felt strange to be back here, surrounded by memories of a life that no longer existed.
“I’m sorry, Evelyn,” David said, his voice barely a whisper. “I know I messed up. I messed up bad. But I meant every word I said that night. I never stopped loving you. You have to
believe me.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in months. The man sitting across from me was a stranger. Gone was the confident, charismatic man I had fallen in love with. In his place was a broken, desperate shell of a man, his eyes filled with regret and remorse.
“David,” I said, my voice gentle, “It’s over. Don’t you see that? We’re over. You made. your choice, and now I’m making mine.”
He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine, but I pulled away as if I had
been burned.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice shaking. “Don’t touch me.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with pain. “Evelyn, please… I’ll do anything to get you back. Anything. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
I stared at him, my heart aching for the man he used to be, for the life we had almost had. But it was too late. The damage had been done. Our foundation had crumbled, and there was nothing left to build on.
“I want you to be happy, David,” I said finally. “I want you to find someone who makes you happy. Someone who deserves your love. Someone who isn’t me.”
And then, I got up and walked away, leaving him sitting there alone with his regrets.
