Three days before the wedding, I was cleaning out some old boxes when I remembered the time capsule Natasha Rowe and I buried ten years ago.

When I mentioned it, her face stiffened for a moment. She quickly tried to talk me out of going.

"It's been so long," she said. "Someone probably dug it up already."

I didn't think much of it and went back to our old high school alone.

At the spot where we buried it, I started digging.

Instead of one box, I pulled out five metal containers of different sizes.

Two of them were the ones Natasha and I buried ten years ago, their surfaces rusted and worn.

But there were three others.

One of them was just as rusted as ours. The other two looked almost brand new.

The old extra box had a name scratched into the lid.

Vince Houle.

On it were the words, [My secret crush was a war I fought alone. Natasha, I hope you're happy.]

I remembered him then. He had been a quiet guy who sat behind us in class. The kind of student no one really noticed.

The two newer boxes had names carved into them, too.

Natasha and Vince.

The date etched into both of them was today.

On Natasha's box were the words, [The greatest regret of my life is that I couldn't marry you.]

On Vince's box were the words, [The greatest regret of my life is that I can't openly congratulate you on getting married.]

I stood under the old locust tree that hadn't changed in ten years, five cold metal boxes resting in my hands.

At that moment, I felt like the biggest joke in the world.

The wind picked up, stirring a few dry leaves across the ground. It cut straight through me, leaving a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

Somewhere I never saw, another man had been fighting his own quiet war with a secret crush.

And my fiancée, Natasha Rowe, had been carrying a regret she never once spoke out loud.

Her greatest regret was that she couldn't marry Vince Houle.

Then what was I?

What about the wedding we were supposed to have the day after tomorrow? Was it all just one massive lie? Or some kind of consolation prize for the man she truly loved?

I buried the three boxes that didn't belong to me back into the ground.

The only ones I took were the two Natasha and I had buried together.

By the time I got home, it was completely dark.

The living room lights were on.

Natasha was sitting on the couch, but the moment she saw me walk in, she stood up.

"Why are you back so late? Where did you go?"

I changed my shoes and answered calmly, "I stopped by our high school."

"Our high school?"

She froze for a split second before quickly forcing herself to look normal again.

"What were you doing there? Why didn't you tell me so I could come with you?"

"Nothing special," I said. "I was passing by, so I went in and said hello to a couple of teachers."

She visibly relaxed, then walked over and wrapped her arms around me from behind. Her cheek pressed against my back, her voice soft and warm.

"You scared me for a second. I thought you ran off or something. The wedding's the day after tomorrow. You can't go disappearing like that."

I let her hold me.

The silence between us grew heavier by the second.

Finally, I asked quietly, "Do you really want to marry me?"

Her body stiffened. Then, she tightened her arms around me.

"Of course I do. We've been together for ten years. If we don't get married, what else would we do? Why are you overthinking this?"

Yeah.

Ten years.

But the words carved into that metal box kept flashing through my mind.

[The greatest regret of my life is that I couldn't marry you.]

Natasha let go of me and immediately started talking excitedly about tomorrow's wedding rehearsal.

She even started imitating the pastor reciting the vows.

"For richer or poorer… In sickness and in health…

"Do you, Alan Gibbs, take Natasha Rowe… Do you, Natasha Rowe…

"I do."

Every word felt like a needle digging into my chest.

"Do you like this wedding car?" she asked, holding up her phone. "Or should we go with the black one instead?"

She looked at me with bright, hopeful eyes.

Something suddenly flared up inside me. A hot, uncontrollable anger burned straight through my patience.

"Whatever."

I turned my head away, my voice cold.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care."

The smile on Natasha's face froze. "What does that mean? What do you mean, you don't care? This is our wedding."

"Our?"

I let out a short, bitter laugh and looked back at her.

"Is it really ours?"

She stared at me, confused, then frowned.

"What's wrong with you today? You've been acting weird since you got back. I've been running around nonstop getting things ready for the wedding. What's with your attitude?"

"My attitude?" My chest felt tight. "What about you? You're the one…"

I stopped myself. The words were right on the tip of my tongue.

If I said them, there would be no taking them back.

Natasha's eyes turned red.

She shouted at me, "What's wrong with me? Haven't I been working nonstop for our wedding? Alan, what the hell is wrong with you? If you don't want to get married, then don't!"

She turned and stormed out, slamming the door so hard that the whole house seemed to shake.

I stood alone in the empty living room, my fists slowly tightening.

Natasha and I had been together for ten years.

Fighting was nothing new for us.

We were both stubborn. Neither of us liked being the first to back down.

But today was the first time she had slammed the door and walked out, leaving me alone like that.

No. Not the first time.

There was one other.

Back when we graduated high school, the class had a farewell dinner.

Natasha and I had already started dating then. We were still in that stage where we were practically glued to each other.

At one point, a girl at the table had a little too much to drink. Laughing, she joked that someone like Vince, so quiet and awkward, would probably never find a girlfriend.

The moment she said it, Natasha's face darkened.

At the time, I didn't think much of it.

I figured she just thought the joke went too far. I even took her hand and told her not to get upset.

Instead, she suddenly shook my hand off.

Without saying a word, she walked out. She left me sitting there with the whole table staring at me.

I had never felt more embarrassed.

That night, her mother said that she never came home. Her phone was turned off, too.

I searched all over town before finally finding her the next day at a lounge.

She only said she had been in a bad mood. She gave a quick, casual apology for leaving me there the night before.

And I believed her.

Thinking about it now makes me want to laugh.

Inside Vince's time capsule was a journal.

One page talked about that exact night.

[Today, Lily Thompson joked about me again, saying I would never get a girlfriend. It hurt, but I'm used to it.

[What I didn't expect was that she would get angry for my sake. She even shook off Alan's hand and came outside to comfort me.

[She stayed with me on the rooftop the whole night. She told me I'm a good guy. That other people just don't see it.

[For the first time in a long while, the whole world felt bright.

[Alan, I'm sorry. I never meant to take her away from you. Even if it was only for one night.]

So that was why she had been in a bad mood that night.

She wasn't upset about anything else. She had simply gone to comfort another guy.

While I spent the whole night worried sick about her, she was up on a rooftop lighting up someone else's world.

There was also a photo in the box, a big group picture from our graduation trip.

Natasha and I stood in the center, smiling brightly.

Vince stood way off in the corner.

His eyes weren't on the camera; they were looking toward Natasha. The loneliness and love in his expression were impossible to miss.

On the back of the photo was Natasha's handwriting.

[May you always smile that widely.]

She had written the exact same sentence in my yearbook on graduation day.

There was also a necklace in the box.

It was identical to the one I was wearing.

Natasha once told me she had searched through several stores before finally finding the perfect matching set for couples.

As it turned out, it wasn't a couple's set; it was a set for three.

Ten years.

My youth, my love, every plan I ever made for the future.

From the very beginning, it had all been nothing but a fragile illusion.

I was never the only one in her heart.

I was just the one she put out in the open.

The pain in my chest grew so sharp that I could barely breathe. I curled up on the couch, feeling like every bit of strength had drained out of my body.

My phone screen lit up.

It was a message from Fiona Carpenter.

She had been Natasha's roommate in high school. They were still pretty close.

I opened it.

It was a photo. The background looked like a private booth in a bar.

Natasha sat in the middle of the booth, a bottle in her hand, her eyes unfocused. She was clearly drunk.

And the man sitting beside her, gently wiping her face with a towel…was Vince.

Another message from Fiona popped up right after the photo.

[I know your wedding's the day after tomorrow, but I really couldn't stay quiet anymore.

[Natasha called all of us out tonight. She said she'd had a fight with you and was in a bad mood. But right after that, she called Vince.

[Those two… It's always been like this over the years. All of us have seen it. We just never had the nerve to tell you.

[They're at Nightfall Bar, Room 302. I think you should come see for yourself.]

I stared at the photo.

The way Vince looked at Natasha was full of concern, almost painful to watch. And Natasha didn't seem uncomfortable at all.

I took a deep breath, stood up from the couch, and grabbed my car keys. Following the address Fiona sent, I drove to Nightfall Bar and found Room 302.

The door wasn't fully closed. Laughter and chatter drifted out from inside.

I stopped in front of it. For a moment, I didn't push the door open.

"Natasha, don't stay mad too long." A woman's voice rang out. "Alan's just got that rich-kid temper. Just smooth things over with him. You two are getting married, anyway."

Another voice chimed in right away.

"Exactly. Why even bother arguing with someone like Alan?"

Then someone else laughed.

"Honestly, Vince is way better. He's gentle and thoughtful. He never makes Natasha upset."

"Seriously. If it weren't for what happened back then…

"Never mind. Natasha, you marrying Alan really makes us feel bad for Vince."

"Feel bad for him? Come on. It's obvious who Natasha really cares about. Every time they fight, who does she call first? Vince."

The whole room burst into laughter.

I leaned against the wall, feeling the blood in my body slowly turn cold.

I recognized every one of those voices.

They were Natasha's closest friends, people I had known for ten years, people I personally handed wedding invitations to.

So in their eyes, I was just some spoiled rich guy who caused trouble while Vince was the understanding gentleman.

What did Natasha think?

I stared through the narrow gap in the door.

She sat in the middle of the group. Vince fed her slices of fruit, wiping the spilled alcohol from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

The way they moved around each other looked like a couple deeply in love.

She didn't argue or defend me. She just sat there quietly, letting everyone joke about it while enjoying Vince's attention.

In that moment, something finally made sense.

For ten years, I had always felt like I didn't quite belong among her friends.

Now, I knew why.

In that circle, I was the outsider.

Vince was the one they all secretly treated like Natasha's future husband.

I didn't have the courage to push the door open anymore.

Instead, I recorded a short video through the crack in the door, then turned and left.

Just as I reached the corner of the hallway, I ran into Fiona. She looked at my tight jaw, sighed, and handed me a tissue.

"You saw everything?"

I nodded. "Thanks."

"It's nothing," Fiona said, waving it off awkwardly. "I just thought it wasn't fair to you. Natasha… Never mind. Just don't take it too hard."

I forced a small smile. "I'm fine. Really."

But how could I be fine?

Ten years of love had just collapsed in front of me.

The woman I loved had lied to me for a decade, and the friends I trusted had been laughing at me behind my back the whole time.