Traded For His Childhood Sweetheart

I was moving to London to teach, and Declan was my biggest cheerleader.

Everyone told me Id hit the jackpot with him. They whispered that he was secretly planning a wedding, a grand romantic gesture to surprise me before I left.

But then I found the files. Hundreds of emails and formal requests saved on his laptop, all petitioning the department head for one specific transfer. He wasnt just sending me away; he was trading me.

He was bringing a girl named Lacey back to the States.

And the wedding files in the hidden folder? The bride wasnt me.

I didnt scream. I didnt throw things. I didnt even cry. I actually found myself wishing them well.

Because, honestly? I just didnt care anymore.

I only felt bad for the Declan who would look for me later, the one who would eventually lose his mind when he realized I was gone for good.

"Nora, are you absolutely sure about this? You know checking this box makes the transfer indefinite, right?" The department secretary lowered her voice. "And... shouldn't you check with Declan about the date? This clashes directly with that 'big event' hes planning."

I stared at the screen of Declans open laptop, my eyes unfocused on the rows of pdfs.

My colleagues had been winking at me all week, telling me to act surprised, that Declan was in full groom-mode. Declan himself had been tight-lipped, vibrating with a nervous energy I had foolishly mistaken for romance. I thought, Finally. After eight years, hes trying.

But every vendor contract, every venue inquiry, every draft invitation on this screen bore the names Declan & Lacey. Not Nora.

It all made sense now. The way hed practically packed my bags for London. He wasnt supporting my career; he was clearing the board. My departure was the condition for her return. A one-for-one swap.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper, then looked the secretary in the eye.

"The wedding... it doesn't concern me. Keep the flight date as is."

Eight years of devotion, and this was the severance package. If that was the price of his love, I couldnt afford it anymore.

The moment the ticket confirmation landed in my inbox, Declans ringtone cut through the air.

"How long are you going to make everyone wait?" His voice was sharp, impatient. "I know its your going-away party, Nora, but do you have to act like a princess and show up late?"

I glanced at the clock. The reservation wasn't for another thirty minutes. His irritation had arrived ahead of schedule.

I mumbled a non-committal excuse and hung up. My eyes fell on his phone casea custom one Id bought us as a joke for our anniversary. He hated it. Called it tacky. Said it made him look unprofessional at the university. Hed promised to only wear it at home, to humor me.

Looking at it now, a wave of nausea rolled through me. I tossed it into the nearest trash can and headed for the restaurant.

The moment I walked in, a colleague shoved a massive bouquet of red roses into my arms, winking frantically toward Declan.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Nora! Look at this!"

Usually, when I upset Declan, he bought flowers to apologize. But never roses. It was always carnationscheap, supermarket filler.

My colleague, caught up in the excitement, snatched the small card from the bouquet and read it aloud before I could stop her.

"To my dearest Lacey. You are as timeless as a rose, and I will always protect you. Love, Declan."

The room went dead silent.

I dug my fingernails into my palms, letting the sharp pain tether me to my dignity. I forced a smile.

"Oh! Right. These... aren't for me."

Footsteps clicked on the hardwood floor behind me. A petite woman in a pale dress stopped at my side. She reached out, took the heavy bouquet from my hands, and buried her face in the blooms, inhaling deeply.

"Declan hasn't changed a bit," she sighed, her voice sugary and light. "He always sends me roses."

She turned to me, beaming. "You must be the 'bro' Declan talks about! Thank you so much for agreeing to the swap so I could come home from London."

I looked at the roses in her arms and let out a soft, dry laugh.

I remembered a night years ago. Declan had smashed a set of dishes in a temper tantrum. He hadnt replaced them. When I came home late from work, hungry and tired, there were no plates. He felt guilty, so he ran out into a pouring rainstorm.

He came back soaking wet, holding a bundle of white carnations.

At the time, I had laughed, calling him hopeless. "Who buys carnations for an apology? They look like funeral flowers."

Seeing Lacey holding those deep red roses, I realized he wasn't hopeless. He wasn't lacking in romance. He just didn't want to waste it on me.

That was why, for eight years, I only ever got the cheap stuff.

"Right," I said, my voice steady. "I'm Declan's 'bro.' Let me show you to the table."

When Declan saw Lacey walk in, he shot out of his chair, his eyes glued to her.

Carter, Declan's best friend, slid into the seat next to me. "Nora, look, don't read into it. He just hasn't seen Lacey in a long time. Don't be that jealous girlfriend."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Who's jealous? Don't they look good together?"

Carter frowned. This was the same man who had watched me drag myself out of bed with a 102-degree fever to bring Declan hangover meds. The man who had answered my 3:00 AM calls when Declan didn't come home.

To Carter, and probably to Declan, I wasn't a partner. I was a placeholder. A warm body. Thats why he felt comfortable coordinating Laceys arrival.

Carter didn't know what to say, so he drifted away.

Declan had left his phone on the table. I flipped it over. The case was gonethe one I bought him. In its place was a clear case, displaying a passport-style photo of him and Lacey, heads leaning together.

I picked it up, my hands trembling.

In eight years, Declan didn't have a single photo of me on his phone. "We see each other every day," hed say. "Why do we need photos?"

I believed him. Like an idiot, I believed him.

But his laptop was a shrine to Lacey. Thousands of photos. Every angle. Every smile.

The party that was supposed to be my farewell turned into Laceys homecoming. Declan didn't leave her side. He blocked every glass of wine offered to her.

When I kept a polite, frozen smile on my face, Declan leaned over and hissed, "Stop looking at her like that. Can't you be generous for once? What is wrong with you?"

My head pounded. The acid in my stomach rose. He had traded my life for hers, and I was the one being selfish?

I grabbed a margarita from a passing tray, needing something to dull the edge.

Declans hand shot out, knocking the glass from my grip. It shattered. Red liquid splashed everywhere.

His other hand immediately clamped over Laceys eyes.

"Lacey, don't look! You know you faint at the sight of blood."

Lacey giggled, peeling his fingers away. She pinched his cheek. "Oh my god, Declan. That was a lie I told during Truth or Dare in high school. You still remember that? You dork."

Tears finally pricked my eyes. Not because of the wasted drink.

But because Declan remembered a throwaway lie from high school, yet he couldn't remember a single thing about me.

I hated the color blue. Id told him a hundred times. Yet when we moved in together, he painted the living room navy. "I thought you liked blue," hed said, looking genuinely confused.

I used to tell myself he just had a bad memory. I was too afraid to admit the truth: he didnt want to remember.

Eight years is a long time to leave no trace.

Lacey walked over, patting Declans chest soothingly. "Nora, don't be mad. He gets intense when he drinks. I used to make him hot water with honey, and hed settle right down."

I didnt answer. I just watched Declan lean into her touch, like a plant turning toward the sun.

"Nora," Lacey chirped. "Do you have honey at your place? I can text you the recipe. You should make him some."

She was the childhood sweetheart. The one who got away. How could I compete with that mythology?

I couldn't. It was better to just fold.

"Why don't you come back to our place and make it for him?" I said.

Declans head snapped up. He looked shocked, then panicked.

We hailed a cab. There was only one. Declan opened the back door for Lacey, ushering her in. He started to hold it for me, but I stepped back.

"No thanks," I said. "I wouldn't want to intrude on a reunion ten years in the making."

Declan ducked his head, refusing to meet my eyes.

Inside the cab, I watched them. Declan rested his head on her shoulder. When he felt sick, he sat up and breathed through the window.

I laughed out loud. "What, you aren't going to puke on her?"

When I used to pick him up, hed vomit all over the upholstery. I was the one who had to apologize to the driver and pay the cleaning fee.

He respected her too much to ruin her dress.

He caught my eye in the rearview mirror and looked away after two seconds. But he stayed upright.

When we got to the apartment, the honey water worked its magic.

"Declan," Lacey said, looking around with wide eyes. "I just got back and... I haven't found a place yet. Can I crash here?"

Declan agreed before she finished the sentence. He grabbed her luggage and carried it straight into the master bedroom.

"Declan," I asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you sleeping in there with her tonight?"

He stopped. His voice was ice cold. "Thats none of your business."

I chuckled. Why did I even ask?

I went to the guest room. To my surprise, Declan followed me in a few minutes later.

"Nora, look. Its not what you think."

I almost applauded the audacity.

"I know," I said. "I get it."

"But, Declan... we're breaking up."

He frowned, opening his mouth to argue, but Lacey burst into the room, tears streaming down her face.

"Declan! Im scared! I feel like someone is watching me through the window!"

We lived on the 28th floor. Unless Spiderman was a peeping tom, nobody was watching her.

But Declan didn't hesitate. He rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her trembling shoulders. "It's okay. Don't be scared. Ill stay with you."

I watched him make a pallet on the floor of the master bedroom. Fine by me. Let them have the bed I paid for.

Back in the guest room, I knocked over a lamp in the dark. It shattered, slicing a deep gash into my palm.

Blood welled up immediately. I had to go to the ER.

Declan saw me in the hallway, holding a towel to my hand. He frowned. "I'll drive you."

Old Nora would have been grateful. New Nora just shook her head.

"No."

His face darkened. He walked me to the door, his hand on the knob.

"Nora," he said, his voice low. "Don't do unnecessary things to get attention."

There it was. When you don't love someone, even their pain is an inconvenience.

The last flickering ember of my love for him finally went out.

I dragged myself home at dawn. Declan was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.

In eight years, he had never cooked for me. Not once. Even when I was pulling double shifts, hed call me to ask when I was coming home to make dinner.

The smell of bacon and eggs made my stomach turn. I wasn't qualified to eat his cooking. That was a premium subscription feature reserved for Lacey.

I ignored the bowl of porridge hed set out for me and grabbed a packet of instant oatmeal.

Declan snatched the packet from my hand. "You just got back from the hospital"

"Declan!" Laceys voice drifted from the bedroom. "Come read to me! I want to sleep in a bit longer!"

She poked her head out, looking at me with big, innocent doe eyes. "Sorry, Nora. Hes just so used to babying me. You don't mind, do you?"

Declan dropped the oatmeal packet. "Ignore her," he muttered to me, and walked away.

My phone didn't ring, but his did. Over and over.

"Hello, sir. Regarding the wedding venue... any other specific requests?"

To ensure this bridge was thoroughly burned, I decided to leave them a parting gift.

I sat at the table eating my dry toast. Declan walked in, holding Laceys hand.

When he saw me, he dropped her hand like it was hot iron. "She... she gets dizzy in the mornings. I didn't want her to walk into a wall."

I smiled pleasantly. "Good idea. Wouldn't want her to bruise before the big day."

Declan stared at me, stunned.

Usually, I fought for every scrap of affection. I used to start a war if I caught him texting another girl. Now? I was Zen.

"Nora," Lacey said, buttering a piece of toast. "Declan booked a bridal fitting for me this afternoon. Its a surprise for... well, just for fun. You should come help me choose!"

"Declan, you're crazy," she giggled, hitting his arm. "Making me wear a wedding dress right after I land!"

I shook my head. "Can't. Haven't finished packing for London."

Declan slammed his fork down. "What is wrong with you? She doesn't know anyone here. Would it kill you to be nice for one afternoon?"

I set my spoon down gently. "I am moving to another continent. My flight is next week. I need to pack. Is that valid enough for you?"

Declan deflated slightly. He looked down at his plate. "The flight isn't until next week?"

He was pushing me out the door, yet didn't even know when I was leaving.

When I didn't apologize, his temper flared again. "Nora, you think Im going to beg you to stay? You think that little breakup speech last night means anything?"

He laughed, a cruel, sharp sound. "Fine! We're done! Happy?"

He grabbed Laceys hand and stormed out.

I finished packing. I looked around the apartment and realized there was almost nothing of me here.

I checked Declans social media. His pinned post was an announcement for a "Welcome Home" party tonight. A wedding reception in all but name.

My flight was actually today. Id lied about the date.

I recorded a video message for the happy couple, scheduled it to send, and headed to the airport.

As I sat on the tarmac, my phone began to buzz. Once. Twice. Then a continuous vibration.

"Where are you?! Why did you post that video?"

"It's not what you think!"

"Come back right now!"

I declined the call and powered off the phone.

The engines roared to life.