My Husband Never Loved The Queen

On the eve of the Ridgeline High reunion, two bombshells dropped in the alumni group chat.

First, Delilah Chad, the legendary high school queen, was back in town.

Second, Lachlan Cole, the once-reckless golden boy, was invited to cut the ribbon for the new science wing.

They were the high school couple everyone was obsessed withthe ones who went from a whirlwind romance to a devastating split, and were now, after eight years, finally set for a collision.

The messages flew fast, tearing into the complicated history between them. Then someone posted:

Are they both still single?

I glanced at Lachlan, who was asleep beside me, and a strange hollow feeling settled in my chest.

Delilahs been single on social media forever, but Lachlan does anyone know?

He ghosted the group right after they broke up. We only ever see him in the business news now.

Seriously, the guy hasnt had a single headline about a fling in years, and he works nonstop. He has to be single.

Right? When you have a love that intense so young, you don't settle for less.

Speaking of, why did they even break up back then?

Young and stubborn. She wanted to leave the country; he was too proud to beg her to stay.

Agh! This is literally the definition of a second-chance romance! I am obsessed.

They grew more and more excited, but I stayed quiet. I was too busy wrestling with a question:

Was I Lachlan Coles settling?

After a moment, I turned off the lamp, ready to sleep.

Lachlans phone screen lit up in the dark.

Lach, Im back.

No contact name. But only Delilah had ever called him Lach.

He was deep in sleep, his arm draped across my stomach, just as it always was. Through the silk of my nightgown, the wedding band on my finger felt especially cold tonight. The discomfort sent a weird panic through me.

My first, subconscious impulse was to delete the text.

I knew his pass code: 299299.

It was the anniversary of their first kiss, repeated.

I stared at the lock screen for two full minutes before placing the phone back down. I did nothing.

It felt beneath me to snoop. Besides, Lachlan would never indulge me the way he used to indulge Delilah.

In high school, Id watched Delilah sulk because some freshman had been aggressively pursuing him. He just laughed and handed his phone over, a smile playing on his lips.

Jealous, are we? I already blocked her, so give me a break, your majesty. If youre still worried, check the chat logs, delete any girl you want.

That memory kept me awake.

When I finally drifted off, I woke back up at seven.

He was a creature of habit, always up early for a workout. But not today.

He lay there, staring at his phone for a long time, clearly responding to messages. He finally got up at eight.

Lachlan, I called out to him. Are you going to the reunion?

We never had much to talk about. The irony wasnt lost on me that Id only found out he was going from the group chat last night.

Lachlan turned back, hesitating for a second. Yes. Are you?

I shook my head. High school wasnt exactly a trove of happy memories for me. Everyone else would go to reminisce, visit old teachers, and catch up with best friends. All I could recall was a long, three-year stretch of deep-seated humiliation.

Lachlan didnt say anything else. He probably didn't want me to go with him anyway.

In the group chat, the red 100+ notification glowed aggressively.

The image of the wild, wealthy boy and the approachable, gentle beauty always made for good gossip.

Then, Delilah, the infamous lurker, finally spoke:

Just woke upsee you all next week, friends.

Different profile pictures instantly responded:

The queen is here! Cant wait to see you!

Wait, does that mean you saw everything we were talking about last night? I thought youd muted the group.

Ugh, I feel like a fan-fic writer caught by the subject of her story

Delilah replied with a playful cat-waving emoji.

Its okay, I actually thought it was pretty entertaining.

The meaning behind her words felt vaguely unsettling, but no one pressed her. They went back to the main topic:

Seriously though, is Lachlan really going to show? I see him jet-setting all over the world in the news. Why would he bother with a little ribbon-cutting?

No one would guess that the Lachlan who used to skip class to set off fireworks for Delilah and get into fights with kids from the next town is this serious businessman now.

Can anyone reach out to him? Is the rumor even true?

Just as everyone was wondering if Lachlan would actually attend, Delilah replied:

Dont worry. He just texted me. He said hell be there.

Sylvia. Lachlan was standing by the bedroom door, putting on his watch. You need to get moving. Youll be late.

It was 8:30 a.m.

I pushed away from the phone, flying out of bed. I was due to play Go with Grandpa Henry at nine.

I prided myself on my punctuality. I was never late.

Except for that one time in high school.

It was a Monday. There was a huge pile-up, and traffic was gridlocked. I jumped off the bus and sprinted to the school gate, heart pounding. I had less than a minute.

Lachlan was walking unhurriedly, taking a bite out of a breakfast burrito. He was one step from the gate when he suddenly stopped. He crouched down and began to slowly tie his perfectly good shoelace.

It was a deliberate delay, like he was waiting. He could have made it, but he stayed outside with me.

It wasn't until I saw Delilah jogging up to the gate that I understood. He was waiting for her.

Now, standing in the hallway, I turned back. Lachlan was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and reading a newspaper.

I suddenly wanted to ask him to drive me.

Lachlan, Im running late. Are you busy?

I have a meeting this afternoon, he said, looking up from the paper. I can have my driver take you.

I froze. Oh. Okay. Thank you.

The word "thank you" was a high-frequency fixture in our life. Hanging up each others laundry, pouring two cups of coffeeeverything warranted a polite thank you. We had achieved true, perfect courtesythe courtesy of strangers sharing a home.

Thanks to the driver, I wasnt late.

Grandpa Henry was waiting for me, smiling, in the garden pavilion of his assisted living facility. We met at a public Go corner in the park. The old man was a sore loserhed take back moves, and he was the most irritating backseat player. Eventually, no one wanted to play with him. Coincidentally, as a young woman, no one wanted to play with me either. So we became unlikely friends.

I didnt know he was Lachlans grandfather then. In our casual chats, I only heard he had a rebellious, good-for-nothing grandson. That was until Lachlan showed up to pick him up one day.

Rory, Grandpa Henry waved his hand in front of my face. What is it? Youre off today.

I looked down at the board, completely losing the game. I forced a smile. You got me, Grandpa. I concede.

He noticed my distraction. Did you and Lachlan argue?

I shook my head. We didnt even disagree, much less argue.

Lachlan is a bit emotionally clueless when it comes to relationships, he said. Ill talk to him about it.

Clueless was a funny word to describe Lachlan Cole. In high school, he was the object of countless crushes. Wealthy, handsomeevery move he made was peak swoon. More than that, he was a hopeless romantic.

For Christmas Eve, he gave the entire school apples just so he could secretly give one to the modest Delilah. On New Years Eve, he skipped evening study to set off fireworks for her outside her classroom window.

I received an apple. I watched the fireworks. All thanks to Delilah.

My thoughts were a mess. At some point, the reason for my abnormal behavior since last night suddenly became clear

I was afraid.

I have always been a patient person, a person who waits.

Id wait for the half-price zone at the grocery store at 8:30 p.m., even if it meant fighting for the last items. Id wait for the delayed bus until nightfall before realizing I had to walk home. I waited for one wave of adoptive parents after another at the orphanage, until I was too old and no one wanted me.

It was a habit. And I was, instinctively, preparing to wait again.

Wait for Lachlan to rekindle things with his first love.

Wait passively for the inevitable divorce.

All my previous waiting had been numb and dull. This time, I was terrified.

A person has to be brave at least once.

So, for the first time, I went to Lachlans company.

On the way, I rehearsed the words I wanted to say a hundred times.

Do you still love Delilah?

Are you planning to get a divorce?

But I was stopped at the main desk.

The receptionist gave me a polite smile. I apologize, but visitors require at least a weeks notice for an appointment.

I wasnt sure if Lachlan wanted the staff to know he was married, so I didn't disclose my identity.

I called Lachlan. The first ringtone had just begun when I heard the familiar sound coming from the elevator bank.

Lachlan was walking in front of a group of people. He glanced at his phone, a confused look on his face, as if deciding whether to answer.

I instinctively hung up.

He didn't seem to care. He slowed his pace deliberately, turning back every now and then to say something to the person behind him.

It wasn't until he walked three yards past me that I saw Delilah, who had been shielded from view.

Time had been kind to her face. She had the perfect, pure first-love look. She was identical to the photo on Lachlans private social media account from eight years ago.

She caught up, walking beside him. Her voice held a note of joy. Wow, you still havent changed your ringtone after all these years? Its still my favorite classical piece.

Seventeen-year-old Lachlan was a rebel, listening to nothing but hip-hop, reggae, and hard rock. But Delilah was different; she loved pure instrumental music. Lachlans taste in music had changed because of her.

Perhaps thats the kind of mark love leaves on Lachlan Cole. The habit had remained to this day.

After they were out of sight, the receptionist spoke to me. Maam, as you can see, Mr. Cole has an engagement. If you need anything, you can schedule an appointment with the Executive Office.

I forced a smile. Thank you. It wont be necessary.

I was so tired, and my eyes felt scratchy and dry. I thought, I just need to go home and sleep it off.

But the group chat kept chiming.

OMG, guess who I just ran into at Le Petit Salon? Lachlan Cole and Delilah Chad!

No way, are they back together? My high school drama just got its happily-ever-after!

@Delilah, spill the tea! Is it true?

Delilah replied with a photo. A floor-to-ceiling window, a fancy French place, and a man. His face wasnt visible, but the prominent veins on his forearm were instantly recognizable.

She added a comment: This restaurant is amazing. Highly recommend, guys.

It wasn't a direct answer, but everyone understood.

I zoomed in on the photo, then zoomed in again. Lachlans hands were beautiful, long-fingered and well-defined. I always caught myself staring at them when he adjusted his glasses, turned a page, or signed a document.

So it wasnt hard for me to notice

The wedding ring was gone.

Lachlan came home early.

Instead of coming straight to the bedroom, he went out onto the balcony for a smoke. Hed quit smoking the moment we got married. But reuniting with Delilah seemed to have thrown him off his game again.

After showering, he held me from behind. We never had this kind of pure physical contact unless we were in bed.

He whispered, Do we need to talk about

Talk about what? The divorce?

My breath hitched, and my body involuntarily stiffened.

Never mind, he diverted. Why did you call me today?

Our phone numbers were mostly for show. We usually texted, never called.

I didn't know what to say. I didnt have the energy to talk about it.

Did you butt-dial me? Makes sense. You hung up so fast. He quickly found an explanation.

Tonight, he kissed me thoroughly, with unusual gentleness. I actually preferred it when he was wild and untamed. In those moments, I could catch a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old boy he once was.

They say you become a child when you love someone. Id seen him mischievously ruffle his sweethearts hair, his laughter unbridled and bright. Id seen him get into bloody fights defending her honor.

With me, he was always cool and quiet, never exposing a true feeling.

Because I had seen how he loved someone else, I knew, with absolute certainty, that Lachlan Cole didn't love me.

I didn't know what to do. I had no friends or family to turn to, except for Grandpa Henry.

I spent the entire afternoon staring silently at the unsolvable Go game in front of me.

The Tenets of Go state: Do not be greedy for victory; when in danger, be prepared to sacrifice.

I wondered if the same logic applied to marriage.

I asked Grandpa Henry for help. Grandpa, I cant figure this out. What should I do?

He smiled, then swept the entire board clean.

Then knock it over.

Yes. Then let it go.

Autumn was approaching. I didn't bother changing my wardrobe. My body wash was running out, but I didn't stock up on a replacement.

I had already packed my books into cardboard boxes. Lachlan looked at the half-empty shelf, confused.

Where are your books?

I finished them. Planning to donate them to the orphanage, I lied.

I was just preparing, making sure I wouldn't have to scramble when I left. I had rehearsed the words for divorce hundreds of times.

That night, he was working in his study. I stood outside, took three deep breaths, and finally turned the doorknob.

Lachlan was sitting at his desk, rubbing his forehead with one hand while holding his phone to his ear with the other. He looked tired, and his voice was softer than usual.

Delilah, the issues on my end can be handled at any time. Its been too long, and I dont want to wait anymore

I didn't have the courage to hear the rest.

I quietly stepped back and gently closed the door. I felt ridiculous. Lachlan was more eager than me, and more composed.

For me, divorce was a momentous decision that required careful psychological preparation and the right time. For him, it meant nothing. He was probably just waiting for Delilah to say yes, and the next second, hed notify me of the divorce and have me "handled."

I had taken this unspoken, transactional marriage far too seriously.

That night, I asked for the divorce anyway. I chose the most abrupt moment, using the most casual tone.

As Lachlan leaned in to passionately kiss my ear, I turned my head away, my expression calm.

Lachlan Cole, lets get a divorce.