Left Seven Times So I Married My Secret Admirer

Genevieve and I were at City Hall, one signatureone final photoaway from legally becoming husband and wife, when her phone rang, and she was gone.
She left me standing alone in the Marriage License Office, paralyzed and staring at the photographers empty backdrop.
I called her phone. No answer.
I sent a text. Nothing back.
Finally, I called her childhood best friend's number. Genevieve answered.
Liam, can you stop being so annoying? Brand twisted his ankle playing hoops, and I need to take him home and ice it down. Dont keep calling and waking him up! We can just reschedule, okay?
My voice was a rough whisper. This is the seventh time, Genevieve.
So what? The office isn't going anywhere!
A clerk looked at me with pity. Sir, are you still going through with this?
I nodded, feeling the floor shift beneath me.
Yes. I am.
1
I called my buddys older sister, a woman Id met exactly once, and agreed to her outrageous proposition.
I hung up, told the clerk I needed a few minutes, and stood there, the silence in my head deafening.
It wasn't long before Zara arrived.
She rode a sleek, black Ducati, and when she walked in, peeling off her leather jacket and helmet, the entire officestaff and allstared. She walked straight to me, hooked one long leg over the other, and grinned.
So, you finally decided? Ready to go through with this whole fake-marriage-to-shut-up-our-families thing?
I gave a small, defeated nod.
It was initially just about getting my family off my back, but honestly, the most crucial part was Grandpa George. His health had been failing fast for the last six months, and every time I visited him in the hospital, he would ask when I was getting married.
He wanted to see me in a tux. He wanted to know Id be safe. He wanted to know someone would cherish me after he was gone.
Thats why I had been pushing Genevieve so hard to marry me all these months.
Wed shown up here, at this very office, seven times. Every single time, Brand was the reason for the failure.
The last time, Brand had a migraine, and she had to go home to make sure he took his meds.
The time before that, Brand lost his keys and was locked out, and she had to drive across town to let him in.
The time before that, Brand was craving the signature Lobster Roll from The Pier Cafeclear on the other side of the cityand she had to rush to stand in line.
Seven times. Every single one for Brand. Every single time, Genevieve threw me away without a second thought.
The final, bitter irony? I gave her seven chances, and she wouldnt even give me the five minutes it took to snap the photo.
To be honest, I wasn't that heartbroken by Genevieves final exit. Maybe I was just numb, or maybe Id seen it coming. But the raw, physical grief hit me when I remembered Grandpas words from last week.
Liam, I dont think I have much time left. I might not see you in that tuxedo. But even if youre alone, you have to be brave. Dont let anyone step all over you.
I had promised him I would be brave.
And that meant no more compromises. Genevieve, you used up all your chances. All seven of them.
The process with Zara was disturbingly quick. Everything went smoothly.
But just as Zara and I were getting ready for our official photo, my phone buzzed. It was Genevieve.
[Okay, Liam, stop being mad. I really couldn't get away this time, but I made you your favorite dinner. Waiting for you when you get home! xoxo]
Zara glanced at my phone, a look of cool detachment in her eyes. Still going to do this?
I took a deep breath, my face blank. Keep going.
We finished the paperwork. We took the picture. We walked out with a marriage certificate in my hand.
Before she started her bike, I spoke. Are you free tomorrow? Theres one more thing I need you to come with me for.
Zara swung her leg over the Ducatis seat. Call me. Im sure my parents will need you to make an appearance sooner than you think.
Then, she was gone.
Seven years of dating Genevievefour years in college, three years after. A lifetime of history, broken. And now, I was married to my buddys sister, a woman I had met once.
On the drive home, Genevieve sent another message, complete with a photo: the dining table laden with all the food shed promised.
[Seriously, where are you? Dinners ready. If youre late, itll be gone!]
She was true to her word. When I got back to the apartment, the dining table was a disaster. The food was scraped clean.
Brand was sitting nearby, looking up at me with fake innocence. He spoke in a high, pitiful tone. Im so sorry, bro. I was just so hungry, I couldnt wait.
Even I wasnt stupid enough to miss the blatant smirk underneath the veneer of apology. He was provoking me. My blood turned to ice. I clenched my fists until my nails dug painfully into my palms.
Brand and Genevieve were inseparable childhood friends. In her eyes, he was always the highest priority.
It wasn't always this way. In the beginning, our relationship had been easy. We rarely fought. Even when it was my fault, shed take the blame immediately. My friends envied me for having a woman who cherished me that much.
That envy ended six months ago, the day Brand showed up. Her affection for me vanished.
Liam, why are you just now getting back? I texted you hours ago. Genevieve emerged from the kitchen, her eyebrows knitted in annoyance. She was used to me dropping everything and racing home the second she called.
I was delayed with something on the road. Im late.
What was so important that you missed dinner? Her tone was flat, but edged with accusation.
I had no intention of telling her about the marriage. I had decided to leave, and from this moment forward, Genevieve was a stranger.
I was here for one thing: my luggage.
Nothing. The company needs me to travel. Im here to pack my bags.
I didn't wait for her response and walked straight to the bedroom.
But the moment I opened the door, I froze.
The bed I had neatly made that morning was tossed. The closet was open, clothes piled everywhere. I could ignore all that.
But on the floor, next to the nightstand, lay the hand-built replica of the Empire State Building Grandpa and I spent months piecing togetherthe one he gave me. It was snapped clean in half. Shards of the plastic frame littered the rug.
I couldn't hold it in. I shouted her name.
Who was in this room? Who touched my things?
Genevieve walked in, frowned, and then shrugged, her face smoothing into indifference. Its just some craft project, Liam. Ill get someone to glue it back together for you.
I stared at her. That careless toneit was the exact sound of someone saying, you don't matter.
And because of that, I knew it had to be Brand. Only he was worthy of her complete, irrational protection.
Brand broke it, didnt he.
My calm question ignited her. She immediately flared up, eyes narrowed. Do you have proof it was Brand? Maybe it wasnt secured properly and just fell over!
Dont you dare accuse people, Liam! Before you blame Brand, you need evidence, or Ill sue you for defamation!
The soft flesh inside my cheek was almost chewed through. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
She was truly going to protect him. I was the one who was defamed, just for asking a simple question.
The Genevieve I loved wasn't like this.
I remembered the rainy night I fell for her. Id been in a car accident, and shed run to me, without an umbrella, yelling at the other driver. This reserved woman had shed every ounce of composure for me, fighting anyone who threatened me.
Where was that Genevieve?
I didnt fight it. As she said, I had no proof.
I knelt down carefully, gathering the broken pieces of the skyscraper.
Brand hobbled in from the doorway, his voice thick with fake tears. Brother, please dont fight with Genevieve because of me!
Even if I didnt do it, if you have to blame me, then blame me. No one ever liked me anyway, so its normal for you not to like me.
He intentionally limped closer and then knelt down in front of me. He pressed his bandaged foot onto one of the larger fragments and twisted it slowly.
He leaned in, his voice dangerously low. Yeah, it was me. What are you going to do?
Rage exploded in my skull, and I lunged, reaching to push him away.
But before I even touched him, Brand conveniently stumbled, collapsing onto the ground. His wrapped foot then precisely hit the nightstand.
A scream followed immediately. Brother! I only wanted to help you!
Before I could process any of it, Genevieve had me by the hair.
She was holding me with a grip Id never felt, her eyes wide and terrifying, burning with a hatred that felt murderous.
Even if you don't like Brand, you don't have to hurt him! Hes an injured patient!
My head was yanked up, forcing me to look at them. A crushing bitterness spread from my tongue, tearing holes in my chest.
I didnt even touch him!
The slap hit me across the face before I could finish the sentence. The red mark was instant.
Youre still lying? Liam, do you think Im blind? I was standing right behind you! I saw you push him!
First you accuse him, and now you knock him down. I never knew you were this cruel. Youre malicious!
My breath caught. I couldn't argue. Nothing I said would change her mind now.
She released me and looked down at me with cold disappointment.
No excuse, huh, Liam? Youre disgusting.
I felt a strange sense of relief. If Id held onto one last flicker of hope for her, it had just been extinguished. Everything was quiet now.
I didn't defend myself. I didn't try to explain.
Brand, nestled in Genevieves arms, looked at me with smug victory. He mouthed one sentence, but I understood perfectly.
Youll never be good enough for Genevieve.
Fine. You can have her.
Genevieve panicked over Brands foot and rushed him to the hospital.
I slowly stood up. The reflection in the mirror showed the angry, burning red of the handprint on my cheek. I could tell how much force she had used.
I laughed, a dry, bitter sound, and wiped the slow bleed from the corner of my mouth.
That slap shattered every illusion Id ever held.
I used the quiet time to gather everything in the apartment. All my clothes went into the suitcase. Anything I couldnt take, I tossed into the trash.
Before I left, I called a real estate agent and listed the house online. It was mine. Grandpa George had used his retirement savings to buy it for me as a wedding gift.
Now, I didn't need it.
Dirty things. And I was done living in filth.

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