No Wedding

In the end, she explained, "You know our marriage is a secret. We've not gotten any good opportunities to tell anyone. I promise you, we'll make it public someday. But now, we need to deal with this project."

I nodded, but I said nothing. I did not tell her that our priority was the upcoming wedding. Nor would I tell her that the cooling-off period would be over at the same time. After all, nothing was more important than Felix to her.

The woman made sure that Felix and I would not meet throughout the whole project. She thought she was slick, but my partner noticed. The soul of gossip burned in his eyes. "Hey, is Ms. Claude your fling or something?"

I smiled. "As if."

My partner's lips curled. "She stole a lot of glances at you. She thought she was slick, but I noticed the guilt in her gaze. The same kind guilty women have for their exes."

That stopped me in my tracks, and I dug deeply into my memory. I did notice her looks, though I could never ascertain her emotions. Not once.

T-minus, 10 days.

It was supposed to be the regular meeting for the project. Felix made sure to strike up a long conversation with me. I knew he probably guessed that Lauren and I were married, though I gave him polite and cordial answers.

Once the meeting was over, Lauren, for once, asked to give me a ride home. "You're more capable than I thought."

First praise she gave me in the last five years. I was halfway through packing up my files, and I stopped. I raised my eyes to her, wondering what she was saying.

A long moment of hesitation later, she asked, "Are you sure we can hold the wedding in time?"

I hung my head low. I knew what she wanted. To cancel the wedding. For Felix again, probably. "We can cancel it. We don't have long."

I looked at her. Of course I did not spill the truth. I did not want to make things ugly for both of us.

That surprised her. It was the answer she did not believe she could get. She blurted out, "You don't mind?"

Of course she would throw that question at me. The old me would've flown into a rage and demanded an answer from her. All the ugly scenes in our marriage happened because I lost control of my temper. Even though every single instance was thanks to her.

I shook my head. "I don't really care. It's just a ceremony."

A long silence later, Lauren said, "We can go to the next city to wind down."

I stared at the countdown on my phone. T-minus 10 days. I refused the offer.

The hands on the steering wheel went stiff. She almost ran through a red light. "What about the beach? Or the restaurant you've always wanted to go to?"

She kept bringing up ideas to wind down. I struck down every single one of them.

…

When we were about to get out of the car, the look of awkwardness and guilt on her face was gone. It was replaced by doubt and displeasure.

I saw that look, and I said, "Maybe we should check out our old home."

It was our first home after the marriage. Now I was getting nostalgic about it. That made her pause. She was guessing my thoughts.

Even after I'd gotten out, she remained in the car for a long, long time.

…

T-minus, one day.

We had a taciturn agreement. Lauren and I rarely showed up at the project site together. Sometimes, when Felix wasn't around, she would come down and join the meeting, but she would say nothing. The woman did steal some glances at me, though.

Congratulations

I had no idea what had gotten into her lately, but I could not care less. Slowly, subtly, I was moving my stuff out of the house.

I hoped she would not notice, but she did.

…

One day, after the meeting, she called me to her office. The moment I sat down, she asked, "I saw you moving a lot of stuff out. I don't see you coming home either. Why?"

I nodded. I had an excuse ready for this situation. "Yeah, I'm moving back to our old home."

A look of hesitation crept onto her face. "I've been thinking about the wedding. We can hold it…"

I interrupted her, "No, thanks. We don't have enough time."

Surprised, she asked, "What do you mean, we don't have enough time?"

That made me think. I wondered if I should show her the divorce papers. Fortunately, a call from Felix helped me get out of the situation. I noticed the name on her screen, and I smiled.

"Get to work. We're not in a hurry to arrange the wedding."

Lauren left the office, but as a token of apology, she turned around. Solemnly, she promised, "I'll see you at the old home tomorrow."

She did not. I was on the couch at the old home, scrolling through my phone.

…

T-minus, 12 hours.

My news app showed me some local news. Felix showed himself at a new project, and Lauren was standing right behind him.

That reminded me of her promise yesterday, and I laughed at myself. I wondered whether she would still break her word if she knew she only had 12 hours left with me.

Maybe she would. Maybe she would not. The answer did not matter.

I spent a few hours cleaning up the house. There wasn't much I could call my own here. The house was practically empty. I was only nostalgic about the place because we got married here.

I called my partner. Even though I told them about my departure, I still had to say goodbye. Then, I called my attorney. "The papers were notarized a month ago. I trust there's no more paperwork I have to go through?"

"That is all," said the lawyer. A moment of calm later, he added, "Congratulations, Mr. Dyson."

I smiled and hung up. Then in silence, I waited until nightfall.

…

T-minus, three hours.

I packed up all my stuff and booked a flight ticket for the next day.

…

T-minus, two hours.

I cut up all the photos that had me and her in it, leaving only me in the picture.

T-minus, one hour.

I placed the papers on the table, neat and tidy.

I was going to leave a message for her, but I did not go through with it. Instead, I said it in my mind, 'Hey honey, this is the last time I'm calling you that, I guess. I spent ten years in love with you. It's really hard doing that, I know, but I'm giving up anyway. Congratulations, to both you and me.'

I grabbed my suitcase. The moment the countdown was over, I put my hand on the doorknob.

This was it. My marriage was done.

And then someone opened the door from the outside. Lauren. Her forehead was covered in sweat. She probably did some exercise. The woman was breathing heavily, and the smile on her face was covered in guilt.

"Sorry, Sam. I just sent someone home—"

Then, she saw the suitcase and flight ticket. "Where are you going?"