Another pause. Yes. That answer hurt more than the first one. You're serious? I don't know what this is yet.
You're sleeping with him and you don't know what it is? Jack, please. No, I want you to answer me. She started crying harder. I feel different around him.
I went quiet for a moment. You're supposed to feel something with me. We're engaged. I don't think I can come home. I felt my jaw tighten.
What does that mean? I think I need to stay. Stay in Jamaica? Yes. With him?
I need to see where this goes. I stood completely still. There was nothing left to misunderstand. You're choosing him. I didn't plan this.
That wasn't my question. She cried harder. I don't know what I'm doing. I think you do. What?
You're choosing another man over the wedding. She didn't deny it. Instead, she whispered, I don't think I can marry anymore. " I looked around the apartment. Our engagement photo was sitting on the bookshelf. The wedding invitations were stacked on the counter.
Her shoes were beside the couch. Everything we had planned suddenly felt meaningless. "So, the wedding is canceled. " She started crying. "Jack, no. " I kept my voice calm. "You made your decision.
I'm not going to argue with you about it. I never wanted to hurt you. " "But you did. " "I'm sorry. " "I don't need an apology right now. " "What do you want me to do? " "Nothing. " I hung up. A few minutes later, my phone rang again. I ignored it. Then, another call came.
I ignored that one, too. I walked to the kitchen and picked up the wedding folder. Inside were months of plans, the venue contract, the guest list, the seating arrangement, everything we had built toward. I put the folder on the table. Then, I opened my laptop.
The first email I sent was to the wedding venue. The second was to the photographer. The third went to the caterer. I wasn't waiting for Ashley to change her mind. She had canceled our wedding.
So, I was going to cancel everything else. Ashley came home 4 days later. She didn't call me from the airport. I found out because she sent one message asking if she could come by the apartment. I replied that she could.
When she arrived, I was sitting at the kitchen table. She walked inside carrying a small suitcase. For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. She looked tired. I looked at the suitcase.
"So, you're staying here? " "No. " She swallowed. "I just need to get my things. " I nodded. "Then, get them. " She looked at me carefully. "You're not going to ask me to stay? " "No. " Her expression changed. "I thought you might be angry. " "I am. " "But you're acting like you're not. " "I don't need to yell to make myself clear. " She looked down.
"I'm sorry, Jack. " "You already said that. " "I mean it now. " "I believe you. " She seemed surprised by that. Then, she walked into the bedroom. I stayed in the kitchen. I heard drawers opening, closet doors sliding, the sound of hangers moving across the rail. Every few minutes, she carried another box into the hallway.
Clothes, shoes, toiletries, her old photographs. Eventually, she came back for the engagement ring. She held it in her palm. I don't know what to do with this. Leave it.