Nine Postponed Weddings Too Many

When Preston Carmichaels little sidepiece threatened to kill herself for the umpteenth time, he postponed our wedding. Again.

That made nine times in five months. My stomach was so swollen by now that anyone with eyes could see I was carrying his child.

This time, I didn't shrink back. I looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Are we getting married or not?"

In my past life, my chronic weakness allowed him to push the date back until it became a cruel joke. It dragged on until my mother, sick with the stress and humiliation of it all, was hospitalized. Desperate, heavily pregnant, I had gone to beg his mistress to leave us be. Instead, she spun a web of lies, claiming I was bullying her to the brink of death. Then, with a calculated shove, she pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. I lost the baby. I lost my ability to ever become a mother again.

And Preston? He didn't seek justice. He blamed me. He said my own toxicity had killed our child. The grief and rage had been so violently suffocating that it triggered a massive heart attack, stopping my heart right there on the hospital floor.

Given a second chance, waking up in this timeline, the fog has completely lifted.

I am not going to bury my one, precious life for a monster.

Prestons jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into cold, judgmental slits.

"Are you giving me an ultimatum? Susie, do you have any idea whats at stake here? Its a matter of life and death. Will you only be satisfied if she actually ends it?"

His voice was pure ice, devoid of an ounce of empathy, looking at me as if I were the one committing some unspeakable crime.

The hand resting on my belly trembled slightly, but a soft, hollow laugh escaped my throat.

"I'm driving her to death? You've canceled our wedding nine times, Preston. I think you're the one trying to kill me."

It was a mirror image of my past life. As my bump grew larger, the vicious whispers in our social circle grew louder.

"I bet the kid isn't even a Carmichael. Why else would he keep delaying? He's just making a fool out of her."

"Thats what happens when a charity case tries to marry into generational wealth. She thought a pretty face could trap him. Joke's on her!"

My pregnancy had always been high-risk. Back then, the anxiety had eaten me alive, leaving me vomiting until I couldn't even stand. Yet Preston had never bothered to defend my honor or just sign the damn papers. Instead, he had blamed me for forgetting my pill, for saddling him with "this inconvenience."

Hearing my challenge now, his brow furrowed deeply. He stared at me, his gaze dark and chilling.

"You're blaming me?"

His tone was razor-sharp, but as his eyes dropped to my stomach, his expression shifted into a flippant, patronizing smile.

"It's just a party, Susie. Is it really that deep? If it comes down to it, we'll just throw the wedding after the baby is born. It's the same difference." He reached out, carelessly stroking my hair, his tone softening into a faux-gentle cadence. "The girls on the outside are just fleeting distractions. Youre the only one who gets to be Mrs. Carmichael."

The moment the words left his mouth, his phone shattered the silence. Preston instantly pulled his hand away, turning his back on me to rush toward the door.

I knew immediately. Madison was threatening to end it all again.

Feeling absolutely nothingno panic, no heartbreakI called an Uber and headed to the women's clinic.

Right before I went back to the procedure room, I saw Madisons latest Instagram story.

"Never fails! Like I always say, if a man truly loves you, he won't let you suffer for a single second. I barely scratched my wrist, and he dropped everything to rush to my side."

Under the blinding weight of that contrast, my battered heart still managed a sharp, phantom twinge of pain. I closed my heavy, exhausted eyes and powered off my phone.

Two hours later, I was wheeled into recovery, swimming in a numb, anesthetic haze. The nurses, assuming I was still completely under, didn't bother lowering their voices.

"That's her, right? The society bride whose fianc postponed nine times?"

"It's her. It was all over Page Six. God, I don't know why she puts up with it. The guy obviously doesn't give a damn about her."

They sighed in mutual pity. Suddenly, one of them gasped, pointing toward the pharmacy wing through the glass doors.

"Oh my god, look. That's Preston Carmichael out there picking up meds with some girl. He's treating her like she's made of glass."

I forced my eyes open, turning my head. Sure enough, it was Preston. His arm was wrapped protectively around Madisons waist, whispering sweet nothings to soothe her, acting every bit the devoted partner.

I had been five months pregnant. In all that time, he hadn't accompanied me to a single doctor's appointment.

The nurse noticed I was awake. A flash of profound pity crossed her eyes. "Honey, do you want me to go out there and tell him you're here?"

"No."

My voice was barely a whisper. I closed my eyes and sank back into the dark.

I don't know how much time passed before my phone finally buzzed.

Preston had sent ten thousand dollars over Venmo. It was his signature move, his way of buying absolution.

Just like years ago, when he claimed he was roofied at a party, cornered me, and assaulted me. His first act of "contrition" was writing a check to cover my entire college tuition.

I had sobbed until I choked, telling him I wasn't something to be bought.

Preston had just pulled me into his chest, petting me as a dark, obsessive fire burned in his eyes. "Oh, sweet Susie, of course you aren't. I've been crazy about you for a long time. Once you graduate, I'm going to put a ring on your finger."

He had kept that promise, technically. But putting a ring on my finger never stopped him from treating Manhattan like his personal tasting menu.

After a few minutes of radio silence from my end, another text popped up.

"Why aren't you at the penthouse? Where did you go?"

My head was spinning from the lingering anesthesia. I didn't reply. A while later, I discharged myself and took a cab to our shared penthouse.

But when the front door swung open, it wasn't Preston standing there.

It was Madison. She was wrapped in my La Perla silk robe, her eyes flashing with a territorial hostility. But the moment Prestons footsteps echoed from the hallway, her face melted into a mask of trembling innocence.

"Susie, I swear I didn't mean to intrude on your space! I just got caught in the pouring rain, and Preston said I could use the guest shower."

It was such a blatant, pathetic performance. Does rain somehow cause fresh, bruising hickeys along a woman's collarbone?

Noticing my gaze dropping to her neck, Madison pushed her chest out just a fraction, a triumphant gleam in her eye.

Before I could even speak, Preston stepped in front of her, physically shielding her like a knight protecting his ward. His face was rigid with defensive anger.

"I'm the one who brought her here. If you have a problem, take it out on me"

"Excuse me. I need to pack."

I didn't let him finish. I breezed right past them into the foyer, not sparing him a single glance.

Preston froze, his face dropping into a stunned, ugly scowl. He stepped away from Madison and followed me into the master bedroom. He stood there, watching my silhouette as I quietly folded my clothes into a suitcase.

"So you come home and immediately throw a tantrum?" his voice dropped into a menacing, icy register. "Can't you just let me have one moment of peace?"

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. When he looked up, I hadn't paused my packing for even a second. He clenched his jaw, muttering a curse under his breath.

"Fine! I'll call her a car right now, okay? You're heavily pregnant, what the hell are you doing dragging a suitcase around?"

My hands paused. A dry, jagged laugh escaped my lips.

He didn't even notice my stomach was completely flat under my loose sweater. Playing the concerned father was just another act.

My eyes stung. There was no baby anymore.

Seeing the strange, eerie smile on my face, a flicker of unease crossed his expression. But before he could process it, Madison suddenly burst into the room and threw herself to her knees right in front of me.

"Susie, please don't be mad at Preston! Its all my fault! If you need to hit someone, hit me!"

She grabbed my hand, trying to forcefully slap her own cheek with it.

Seeing her degrade herself, Preston barked a sharp command, yanking Madison up from the floor. "Enough! If she wants to leave, let her leave! We'll see who regrets it tomorrow!"

Then, his eyes dropped to Madisons knee with sickening tenderness. "Did you scrape your knee on the hardwood? Come here, let me put some Neosporin on it."

Madison blushed, shaking her head with a sickly sweet smile. "Oh, that's not from the floor. That's from earlier, on the bed..."

Panic flashed in Prestons eyes. He instantly shot a look at me.

But I remained perfectly, beautifully hollow.

Suddenly, Madison let out a sharp cry of pain, dramatically pulling her arm away. "Preston, you're holding my wrist too tight!"

Preston didn't even hear her. He was already running out the door, chasing after me.

"Susie, where the hell do you think you're going?"

He grabbed my forearm, the veins in his hand bulging with force. I stood perfectly still for two seconds. Then, I looked up and met his gaze with dead eyes.

"We're done, Preston. We never signed the papers, so it's clean. It's over."

The blood drained from Prestons face. He stood paralyzed, as if I had suddenly started speaking a foreign language.

"Is this a joke to you? What about the baby?!"

His anger flared, and he reached out, instinctively trying to press his hand against my stomach. But in that exact second, Madison dramatically swooned in the hallway, collapsing onto the floor in a heap.

The moment Preston whipped his head around to look at her, I slammed the door of my Uber shut and told the driver to step on it.

In the rearview mirror, I watched him standing in the driveway, completely frozen.

Once I got to my own small apartment, I took pictures of my designer wedding gown and listed it on StillWhite. Then, I sent a mass BCC email to our bridal party and family, stating the wedding was permanently canceled.

When it was all done, I let out a long, shaky breath and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Monday morning, I went back to work at the prep school where I taught literature. But the second I stepped onto the campus, I could feel the suffocating weight of staring eyes.

"I can't believe Ms. Montgomery is actually like that. She seemed so normal."

"She grew up dirt poor, and her mom is chronically ill. How do you think she afforded all those designer bags in college? She's a sugar baby."

"I heard she even got knocked up and had to get rid of it. She's total trash. No wonder her fianc keeps leaving her at the altar."

"Honestly, I bet she slept her way into this job, too."

A loud ringing erupted in my ears. White-hot fury spiked through my veins, and I reached for my phone, ready to call the police for harassment and defamation.

But before I could, Madison came rushing out from the courtyard, tears streaming beautifully down her face as she pleaded with me.

"Ms. Montgomery, please, just give me my necklace back! It was my mothers sweet sixteen gift to me, and shes dead! Its the only thing I have left of her!"

Students and faculty began to circle us, their faces twisted in disgust and moral superiority.

"Susie, why are you stealing from a young girl? Give it back!" one of my colleagues snapped.

"Have some basic human decency. We all know your own mother is in the hospitalyou should be praying for some good karma, not stealing!"

At those words, a vicious, calculating shadow passed through Madisons tear-filled eyes. She pulled out her phone, dialing a number.

"I'll just call your mom. I'm sure she'll understand my pain."

Pure terror gripped me. I lunged forward, snatching the phone from her hand. "My mother is in the ICU! Are you trying to kill her?!"

Madison fell backward onto the pavement, sobbing with theatrical despair. The crowd swelled, their whispers turning into shouts. A cold realization washed over methis was a highly coordinated, premeditated hit to destroy my life.

I turned to push my way out of the crowd, but Madison wrapped her arms around my legs, anchoring me to the ground.

Suddenly, a furious roar shattered the chaos. A bouquet of expensive white lilies dropped to the concrete as Preston shoved through the crowd, scooping Madison into his arms.

He glared at me, his chest heaving with disappointment, his lips trembling with rage. "I actually came here to apologize to you, Susie. But look at you. You are so vicious, so vindictive!"

Madison buried her face in his shirt, weeping hysterically. "Susie, please, I'm begging you. It's my mother's dying memento."

The crowd's condemnation crashed over me like a tidal wave. I bit down on my tongue until I tasted copper, turning my back on them to walk away. "This is absolute insanity."

But a split second later, a searing pain shot through my arm.

Preston yanked me backward with brutal force, shoving me down so hard my knees slammed into the rough asphalt. He towered over me, barking, "Susie, you don't want to lose your career over this. I am going to say this one last time. Apologize!"

The skin on my knees was scraped raw and burning. With red-rimmed eyes, I looked up at the man I had spent my twenties loving, only to see him look away with cold indifference.

The voices around me swelled. Dirty, malicious, degrading.

"God, did she really just sleep her way to the top?"

"She's been bad news since high school. Guess the rumors were true."

I suddenly doubled over, my organs twisting into knots, nausea rising in my throat.

Preston knew. He knew better than anyone that when I was nineteen, the vicious cyberbullying at my university had driven me to slit my own wrists. He was the one who had found me covered in blood and rushed me to the ER. He was the one who had cleared his schedule for three months, sitting by my bedside, pulling me back from the ledge.

And now, just to avenge his bruised ego and placate his mistress, he was leading the mob to crucify me over a lie.

I would rather die than confess to something I didn't do. I lunged forward, sinking my teeth violently into the hand he had clamped down on my shoulder.

Preston screamed, violently jerking back.

Madison shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Are you an animal?! You almost took a chunk out of his arm! We're calling the cops!"

I tilted my head, spitting a mouthful of his blood onto the pavement. I didn't say a single word. I simply pushed myself off the ground and walked away.

I went home, emailed HR requesting a one-week leave of absence, and collapsed into my bed, letting the darkness take me.

I was jolted awake by the relentless ringing of my phone.

I shook my heavy head, fully expecting to hear Preston screaming at me.

Instead, the first thing he said was, "I think I was a little too rough today. Are you okay? If you're hurting, go to the hospital. Don't let your stubborn pride get in the way. The baby's safety is what matters."

Hearing the word baby, a dry laugh cracked from my throat.

There hasn't been a baby for days.

Unwilling to waste another syllable on him, I hung up.

I quickly washed my face and took a cab straight to the hospital to check on my mom. But before I even reached her ward, I heard my mothers frail, desperate sobs echoing down the hallway.

"You're lying! My daughter is a good person! Cough, cough You're lying!"

Every alarm bell in my nervous system went off. I shoved past the nurses and burst into the room.

The first thing I saw was my mother crumpled on the linoleum floor, coughing up blood.

"Mom!"

My vision went red. I rushed over, gathering her frail body into my arms.

My mother looked up at me through tear-soaked eyes, her hands trembling as she grabbed my shirt. "Susie... this girl came in... she said you stole her necklace. Tell Mom the truth. You didn't take it, did you?"

My mother had lived a life of quiet, unshakeable integrity. After my father left, she raised me on her own, every single dollar she earned washed in honest sweat. The thought of her beloved daughter being branded a thief was literally breaking her heart.

I whipped my head around to look at the architect of this nightmare. Madison stood by the door, arms crossed, a smug, contemptuous smirk playing on her lips.

"Do yourself a favor and stop trying to seduce Preston. Take your sick mother and get the hell out of the city. Otherwise, I will make sure neither of you ever find peace."

She let out a scoff, turning on her heel to leave.

A high, thin ringing filled my brain. I looked down at the blood staining my hands. She had ruined my career. And now, she was torturing my dying mother.

I lunged.

I tackled her to the floor, my hands immediately finding her throat. I clamped down, squeezing with every ounce of strength I possessed.

Madisons face turned a violent shade of crimson. Her manicured nails clawed uselessly at my arms, tearing my skin.

Suddenly, a massive force ripped me backward, throwing me onto the ground.

Preston stood there, his face pale with horror, his hands shaking violently.

"Are you insane?! You almost killed her!"

In my peripheral vision, my mother lay unconscious on the floor, her life slipping away, while Preston stood over me, fiercely guarding his mistress, terrified I might scratch her again.

The dam finally broke. Hot, bitter tears streamed down my face as I screamed from the depths of my soul, "THEN SHE SHOULD DIE!"

Smack.

The force of his hand across my face sent me crashing sideways onto the hard floor.

Preston froze. He looked down at his own trembling hand, a look of profound disbelief washing over his features. He stumbled toward me, his voice breaking into a panicked stutter. "I'm sorry. Susie, God, I'm so sorry. I just saw red, I"

But his voice abruptly died in his throat.

Because of the fall, my oversized sweater had ridden up, exposing my bare stomach.

It was perfectly flat.

In that second, the color completely drained from Prestons face.