I waited. Maybe he would say something else. Maybe he would say we could figure it out together.
He didn’t.
Instead, he said something that still echoes in my mind.
“I think we should cancel the wedding.”
Just like that. Five years gone between the appetizer and the check.
I remember staring at the table while the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. Neither of us answered.
When I got home that night, I sat on my couch and stared at the wall for a long time. The apartment felt different, quieter, like something important had already moved out.
Two days later, his mother came to visit.
Janet Harper was 65, sharp-tongued and proud of it. She showed up unannounced around noon. The moment she walked in, her perfume filled the room, something strong and sweet that made my head ache.
read more in next page
