No. I love you. I know. She cried quietly. Then I said the only thing I had left to say.
You didn't lose our wedding because of one night. She stopped crying. You lost it because that night was the result of choices you made for weeks. I ended the call. After that, Marie stopped contacting me for several days.
I thought maybe she had finally accepted what happened. I was wrong because the wedding date was getting closer and Marie still wasn't ready to let go. The original wedding date arrived 3 weeks later. I woke up early that morning without an alarm. For a few seconds, I forgot what day it was.
Then I remembered. This was supposed to be the day I married Marie. I had spent months imagining that morning. Instead, I was sitting alone in my apartment drinking coffee and looking at a calendar with the date circled in black. There was no ceremony, no flowers, no guests, no honeymoon, just an empty day.
I expected to feel destroyed. I didn't. The strangest part was how normal everything felt. I made breakfast. I went to work.
I answered emails. Around noon, my sister called. How are you? I'm fine. She was quiet for a moment.
You don't have to pretend. I'm not. She knew me well enough not to argue. We talked for a few minutes before she said goodbye. Later that afternoon, I received a message from Marie.
Can I see you tonight? I stared at the screen. I almost ignored it. Then I replied, "One hour public place." We met at a small restaurant near the center of town. Marie was already sitting at a table when I arrived.
She looked nervous. I sat across from her. Why did you want to meet? She looked at me for several seconds. I wanted to see you today.
Why? Because this was supposed to be our wedding day. I didn't answer. She wiped her eyes. I kept thinking you'd change your mind.
I didn't. She took a breath. I've spent weeks thinking about everything. Good. I was selfish.
I looked at her. You were? She nodded. I thought because it was one night, you would eventually forgive me. I have forgiven you.
Her eyes lifted. You have? Yes. Then why can't we start over? Because forgiveness isn't the same thing as trust.
She looked down. I would do anything to get you back. I believe you. Then what do I have to do? Nothing.
She stared at me. You really don't want me anymore? I thought about the question. I don't want the relationship we had. Her face tightened.
Because of him? Because of your choices? She began crying. I hate what I did. I know.
I wish I could go back. So do I. She looked hopeful for half a second. Then I continued. But going back wouldn't change what happened.
She lowered her head. I ruined everything. You did? She nodded slowly. For once, she didn't argue.
After dinner, we walked outside. She stopped beside her car. Walter. I turned. I hope someday you'll remember the good parts.