4: 4

After he left, I made myself a bowl of noodles.

I ate them slowly.

Then I opened my phone and started canceling everything, one thing at a time.

The birthday cake I'd ordered for him every year for seven years. Canceled.

The courthouse appointment I'd booked so far in advance. Canceled too.

Looking back, the only joke here was me.

My phone lit up all at once.

It was my fiancé.

He'd sent a video, the picture bobbing and swaying.

"Fel, look at this." His voice came from off camera. "I'm not great at filming, so bear with me."

The cabinets in the new place were the natural wood color I liked.

The curtains were the hazy blue I'd mentioned once, in passing.

At the end, the camera turned toward the window.

Below, there was a flower bed.

"The gardener says they'll bloom next spring."

A video barely two minutes long.

I stared at the screen. Not a single sweet word in it.

And still it stung at the bridge of my nose.

So this was what it felt like, to be someone another person kept in mind.

No. Wait.

And I'd been ready for all of it.

I was just about to reply when another message popped up.

Philip Delgado had sent a photo.

A pair of glacial jade bracelets, tag facing up, six figures.

"These are a lot better than that old relic at home. I'll make it up to you when I'm back. Cool off."

A few seconds later, another one came.

"Send me your size."

I looked at the screen and froze.

He didn't know my wrist size.

But he knew, precisely, that Doris Winfield's wrist was slim enough to slip into Rose's bracelet.

I didn't reply.

Instead I scrolled to the nine-photo grid on Doris's feed.

Same jewelry shop. Same counter.

Her hand rested lightly against the glass, fingertips pointed right at that pair of glacial jade.

The caption: "Good taste needs a second opinion [smirk]"

So the bracelet meant to make up for me had been picked out with her along for the ride.

The whole thing was so absurd that even anger felt like a waste.

I tapped a like on it and moved on.

By the time the sky had gone fully dark, Rose called.

The old woman's voice was badly hoarse.

"Fel, Philip called the estate this morning and threw a fit."

"He's convinced this marriage is something I put you up to behind the scenes."

I held the phone and said nothing.

"I didn't argue with him."

Rose spoke slowly. "Fel, sixty years ago, before I put on this bracelet, there was someone who told me to wait too."

"I waited three years. Long enough for him to go and get engaged to some fine young lady."

"Later your grandfather came to ask for my hand. The betrothal papers, the auspicious date, the bridal sedan. He didn't make me wait for a single one of them."

"There's only one thing I've held to my whole life."

"A man who truly means to give you something never says the word 'wait.'"

"That Matthews boy. I had my old friends look into him."

Her voice was very steady. "He's worthy of you."

"The wedding's in a few days. Save your grandmother a seat."

"I'm going to drink to my granddaughter's happiness."

My granddaughter.

My tears finally came down and I couldn't stop them.

On the other end, she laughed softly.

The laugh was light, and sure.

"Fel."

"We won't be wearing the bracelet."

"My Fel deserves the bridal crown."