Chapter 4Missing from His Picture

On my last day before leaving, I calmly finished the last of my handoff work.

The movers had already picked up my boxes and shipped them to Hillside. I had also received the access information for my residency housing on my new phone.

I erased every trace of myself from the apartment as quietly as if I were only leaving for a short work trip.

When Eugene came home, I was deleting the last file from my computer.

It was our wedding intro video, made up entirely of scenic footage without a single person in it.

When he noticed my swollen wrist, he instinctively pulled some ointment and my old brace from the first-aid kit. He sat beside me and carefully treated my wrist, his movements as practiced as ever.

For one brief moment, I almost wavered.

Maybe some part of him still cared about me.

Then he spoke.

"Is your wrist feeling better? If it is, can you revise the wedding video again? The color grading feels too cold."

Just like that, reality settled back in.

He still had no idea there wasn't going to be a wedding.

I looked at him and asked one last question. "Eugene, have you ever thought about what happens if I don't want to live like this anymore?"

He looked at me like I had said something absurd. "What are you talking about? Are you seriously still doing this?"

He walked over, a mocking look on his face.

"Taking your photo out of the wedding display, canceling the family portrait. That was all just to pressure me into making our relationship public, wasn't it? Well, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to be manipulated."

So that was how he saw everything I had been through, all the hurt and every compromise I had made. To him, it was nothing more than another tantrum.

I let out a bitter laugh as my eyes stung with tears.

His phone rang. It was the director of the animal rescue center, and he sounded frantic.

"Eugene! Something happened during Charlotte's livestream. A piece of equipment fell, and she tried to shield the cat. I think she got hit!"

Eugene's expression changed instantly. He grabbed his coat and rushed out without even looking back at me.

He had completely forgotten that we were supposed to have our final wedding walk-through that afternoon.

Once again, something important to us came second to Charlotte.

I didn't go after him.

Instead, I opened the livestream I knew all too well.

The camera shook violently as people rushed around in a panic, but I could still see what was happening.

Eugene ran into frame and pulled Charlotte against him, turning his back to shield her in case anything else fell. He checked her over again and again, his voice trembling with a kind of panic I had never heard from him before.

"Are you okay? Where did it hit you?"

Even after Eugene realized Charlotte was only shaken up, he didn't let go of her.

Instead, he held her there in front of tens of thousands of viewers.

Someone nearby reached for the livestream controls, but Eugene stopped them.

"Leave it on. Keep streaming. We don't want the account to lose momentum."

Three years ago, he made me stand on a public sidewalk in tears and delete a photo of us because he claimed he wanted to keep his private life private.

Now, for the sake of another woman's engagement numbers, he had no problem letting thousands of strangers watch him hold her.

He didn't hate cameras. He just hated having me in the frame.

The comments were already exploding.

[Oh my god! Eugene is such boyfriend material!]

[They're totally real. There's no way this is just for the camera!]

[Eugene and his girl better stay together forever!]

I read through the comments and quietly liked one of them.

Then I closed the livestream, took the SIM card out of my old phone, and dropped it in the trash.

Before I left, I set my key card on the entryway table.

"Goodbye, Eugene," I said quietly to myself.

I closed the door behind me and walked away from the home I would never return to.

It was already late by the time I reached the station.

I stood alone on the platform until the overnight train arrived.

As soon as I boarded, I used my new number to send every wedding guest a short message letting them know the wedding was canceled.

The train slowly pulled out of the station, and the city lights slipped past the window until they blurred into streaks of color.

Back at the rescue center, Eugene finally managed to calm Charlotte down.

He pulled out his phone, ready to call me and demand an explanation, when a final notification from the wedding studio appeared on his screen.

[Dear Mr. Chapman, this is to confirm that all wedding services and reservations were canceled effective seven days ago at Ms. Perry's request. All invited guests have now been notified of the cancellation.]

Outside the window, darkness stretched for miles. In the glass, the lights inside the train reflected my calm face back at me.

While Eugene was busy worrying about another woman, his bride had already left him behind.