Years Of Waiting Went To Waste

Seven years. That was how long Adrian and I had been together. My parents began hinting heavily about marriage.

Adrians reply never changed: Just wait, okay?

They assumed it was money. They set aside a wedding fund, put down deposits on a house and car. Still, he said the same thing. Just wait, okay?

I didnt know what clock he was watching, but I stayed by him. Until his college reunion. I brought a custom cake to the private room. Today is Adrians thirtieth birthday, I told his friends.

Instead of cheers, the room stirred. A guy laughed. Didnt Adrian and Stella make that thirty-year pact?

Yeah! If neither was married by thirty, theyd marry each other!

Stella blushed, tucking hair behind her ear. Stop. His girlfriends right here.

Adrian didnt reassure me. He gave me a cool look. Shes not my wife yet. I promised to wait until I was thirty, Stella. I kept my word.

The cake box felt like lead. Cold gripped my chest. In that instant, the mystery unraveled. I knew exactly what hed been waiting for.

Amid cheers and pounding tables, Adrian leaned toward the cake, candlelight in his eyes. First wish I hope Stella isnt married either.

Enough. I didnt scream. Didnt throw the cake. I placed it gently on the table, ignoring the awkward silence, and walked out with my head high.

Outside, a yellow cab idled curbside. The driver lowered the window. Need a ride, miss? Waiting for someone?

I opened the door and got in. Just drive. Im done waiting for anyone.

By the time I unlocked my apartment door, the place was pitch black.

I had barely kicked off my heels when my phone lit up. It was Adrians mother.

"Nina, sweetie! His dad and I were looking over the catering menu for the engagement party again. We really think upgrading to the premium surf-and-turf package would look so much more elegant. What do you two think?"

I pressed my lips together, tasting the bitter salt of my own dried tears. "Mrs. Wright, you don't need to worry about that. The engagement party is off."

A loud gasp echoed through the speaker. "Off? Did Adrian get cold feet again? I swear to God, I don't know what is wrong with that boy!"

I took a shaky breath, steadying my voice. "It isn't him this time. I am the one canceling it."

She scoffed, utterly refusing to believe me. "After all these years? I know he's the stubborn one. You just sit tight, sweetie. I'm going to call him right now and knock some sense into him!"

The line went dead before I could say another word.

Less than twenty minutes later, the front door burst open.

Adrian strode in, bringing the chill of the night with him. He glared down at me, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Why did you cancel the engagement party?"

He spoke like a man barely containing his temper. "What kind of tantrum is this? You dropped the cake and walked out of the reunion without a single word. Do you have any idea how crazy that made me look in front of my friends?"

I stood up slowly, forcing him to meet my eyes on level ground. "Adrian, since you promised to wait for Stella until you were thirty, what the hell was I doing beside you for the last seven years?"

The anger drained from his face, replaced by a fleeting shadow of genuine pain. "But shes already married."

I froze.

Adrian ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "I promised to wait until she was thirty. I am a man of my word. Now that she's married, I got the closure I needed."

A hollow, sickening ache bloomed in my chest. "So you dragged your feet for seven years just to see if another womans marriage would fail? What does that make me, Adrian? A backup plan? Your safety net?"

His brow furrowed in annoyance. "Don't say things like that. I care about you. It's been seven years, you know I love you."

He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Besides, Stella got married three years ago. The guy she married... he's a monster. He doesn't treat her right. Her life is a living hell right now."

I let out a dry, bitter laugh. I was laughing at my own pathetic existence.

Adrian reached out, his tone dripping with that familiar, confident reassurance he always used to pacify me. "Nina, I already called my mom. I told her you were just blowing off steam. The party is moving forward as planned. We've been together for seven years. I know what matters most to you. Let's just drop this, okay?"

I took a deep breath, fighting the visceral tearing sensation in my heart. The humiliation of being someones second choice was at war with seven years of very real, very raw memories.

I remembered how he used to tuck my freezing hands inside his coat during winter walks. I remembered the late nights he would show up at my office with my favorite takeout when I was working overtime.

Those moments were real.

But his endless waiting for another woman was real, too.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I opened my mouth to finally end it, but Adrians phone rang.

His annoyance vanished instantly. His face went pale, and his voice hitched with panic. "Stella? What's wrong?"

Muffled, ragged sobbing drifted from the speaker.

Adrians knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. "Did he hurt you again? Where? Is it bad?"

He was already moving toward the door, grabbing his keys from the console. "Don't panic. Find a safe place to hide and lock the door. I'm coming over right now. I'll handle him."

He hung up, threw his coat over his shoulders, and walked out into the night without a single backward glance.

He left so naturally. So effortlessly.

He never even noticed that from the second he saw Stella's name on his screen, he hadn't looked at me once.

Adrian didn't come home that night.

The following evening, he walked right through our front door with Stella in tow.

He was carrying two heavy grocery bags, grinning like a teenager. "Nina! Stella insisted on coming over to thank us. She wants to cook dinner."

Stella stood awkwardly in the foyer. A fading purple bruise shadowed her cheekbone. "Nina, I really owe Adrian my life for helping me call the cops yesterday. I don't have much to offer, so I wanted to make you guys a home-cooked meal."

Without waiting for an invitation, she slipped off her shoes and navigated my apartment like she owned the place, heading straight for the kitchen.

Adrian followed her like a lovesick puppy. "I'll be your sous-chef. Just like the old days."

Stella glanced over her shoulder, giving him a playful, exasperated pout. "You better just sit in the living room. You're always in the way when you try to help."

But he leaned against the counter, refusing to leave. "Come on, I can wash the vegetables. Give me some credit, I've matured a lot in seven years."

Stella giggled, the sound light and breathy. "Alright, fine. But my hair is getting in the way. Can you tie it up for me?"

Adrian complied instantly. He stepped behind her, gathering her long, dark hair into his hands with practiced gentleness.

I stood in the hallway, forcing myself to look away from the agonizing intimacy of the scene.

An hour later, Stella carried the plates out to the dining table. "Dinner is ready, Nina."

The food tasted like ash in my mouth, but Adrian's eyes were practically shining. "Stella, your cooking is as amazing as ever. It's been way too long since I tasted this."

She picked up a piece of honey-glazed pork with her fork and placed it directly onto his plate. "I know this is your absolute favorite. I made it just for you. Try this piece, it's the most tender."

Finally, she seemed to remember I was sitting there. "Nina? Why aren't you eating? Is it too sweet for you?"

Adrian looked up, his tone shifting into a mild command. "Nina, eat a little. Stella worked hard on this all afternoon."

Before I could formulate a response, the doorbell chimed.

I got up to answer it. Two delivery workers stood in the hall, holding a massive cardboard box. "Good evening. We have the canvas wedding portraits for delivery."

I froze in the doorway.

We had taken those photos last month. When we placed the order, Adrian had confirmed the delivery date with the studio manager three separate times. He had been absolutely adamant that they arrive exactly one day after his thirtieth birthday, claiming it was for "good luck."

I had thought he was just being romantic. Now I knew the truth. He needed to make sure his thirty-year pact with Stella had expired before he allowed our wedding photos into his home.

Hearing the delivery men, Stellas face dropped. The glass of water slipped from her hand, shattering against the hardwood floor.

Adrian leaped out of his chair, rushing over to grab her by the arms. "Don't move! You'll step on the glass."

The worker shifted the heavy box. "Where would you like us to hang this, ma'am?"

Adrian didn't even look our way. "Put it wherever. Nina, just sign for it."

Then, right in front of me, he scooped Stella up into his arms, carrying her bridal-style to the living room sofa.

The two delivery men looked at me, their faces full of awkward pity. "Miss..."

I stared at the cardboard box holding the frozen, smiling images of a future that no longer existed. My eyes burned. On the day we took those photos, we had held each other and laughed, and I had truly believed I was the happiest woman in the world.

I turned my head. Adrian was kneeling on the rug, carefully dabbing a tiny scratch on Stella's ankle with an alcohol wipe before gently applying a bandage.

All his emotional unavailability over the years wasn't a personality flaw. He was just saving his warmth for someone else.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked back at the workers.

"Don't bother hanging it. Just leave it in the box."

Once the mandatory holding period for Stella's husband ended, Adrians paranoia kicked into overdrive.

He was constantly distracted. His phone was glued to his hand, his eyes darting to the screen every few minutes.

That night, his phone sat on his nightstand. The screen flared to life, buzzed aggressively against the wood, went dark, and then lit up again.

I rolled over, turning my back to him. "Adrian, why isn't your phone on silent?"

For the past seven years, Adrian was religious about silencing his phone at bedtime. He claimed sudden noises gave him migraines. He used to complain if my morning alarm was too loud.

Silence stretched across the dark bedroom. "I know it's annoying," he finally whispered. "But I can't mute it. That psycho could track Stella down at any second. If she calls and I miss it..."

I sat up and looked down at him. "So you're just never going to put your phone on silent again for the rest of your life?"

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just until this whole mess is sorted out."

My patience finally snapped. "And when is it sorted out? When she files for divorce? When she marries someone else? Or are you waiting for her husband to drop dead?"

Adrian bolted upright, staring at me like I was a stranger. "Nina, could you have a shred of empathy?!"

"She is being hunted by a violent lunatic! She could be killed, and you want me to just ignore her? What if she needs me and I don't answer?"

I raised my voice, the frustration boiling over. "Does she not know how to dial 911?"

"How did she survive all those years when you two lost touch? Did she just stop breathing without you? She has a family. She has other friends. Why does it have to be you?"

Adrian threw the covers back and got out of bed, looking at me with pure disgust. "When did you become so cold-blooded?"

"When I met you seven years ago, you were the kind of girl who would cry over a stray kitten in the rain. Look at what you've turned into."

I opened my mouth to fight back, but his phone buzzed again. He lunged across the mattress to grab it. "Stella? Are you okay?"

Her terrified weeping filled the quiet room. "Adrian... I'm so scared to go back to my place. I didn't grab my wallet, I have nowhere to go."

"I was just walking and crying, and somehow I ended up outside your apartment building. Could I... could I crash with you guys for a little while?"

Adrian didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. "Of course you can. I'm coming down to get you right now."

He dropped the phone and started pulling on his jeans.

I grabbed his arm. "There is a hotel two blocks away. I will pay for the room myself. But I am not letting her move into our home."

He ripped his arm away, glaring at me. "A hotel isn't safe. What if her husband bribes the front desk? Who takes the blame if he breaks into her room?"

"She's traumatized, Nina. She needs to be around people she trusts. Staying here is the only way I can actually sleep at night knowing she's safe."

Listening to my fianc passionately defend his need to provide safety and shelter to the love of his life finally broke me.

"Well, if she moves in, I am not safe! Adrian, I am a woman too!"

He completely bulldozed over my pain, his voice dropping to a freezing chill. "I've made my decision. Stop making this about you."

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the bedroom door.

Tears spilled hotly down my cheeks. "Adrian."

He paused.

"If you bring her through that front door, I am no longer your fiance."

He froze, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He turned around slowly, his eyes searching my face.

The silence between us stretched out, heavy and suffocating.

Then, he let out a long, disappointed breath. "Nina, I know you. You have the biggest heart in the world. You would never actually leave someone out on the street to die."

He picked up his keys, opened the door, and walked out.

He left me totally alone in the suffocating, silent dark.

I sat there for a long time. Then, I wiped my face dry, picked up my phone, and dialed my real estate agent.

The agent answered with annoying cheerfulness. "Hey Nina! Is there an issue with the new house? I know you bought it for the wedding. Are we hearing wedding bells soon?"

I forced a bitter smile. "No issues with the property. But I need you to list it on the market. Tonight. Sell it as fast as humanly possible."

I absolutely refused to share my own home, paid for by my parents, with a man who was busy sharing his heart with another woman.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down my face, I made the final, immovable choice of my life.

I didn't want the house anymore. And I didn't want the man, either.

By the time Stella walked through the front door, my suitcases were zipped and standing by the entryway.

She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. "Nina? Where are you going?"

Adrian glanced at the luggage, his tone dismissive and arrogant. "Leave her alone. Where else is she going to go besides running back to her parents?"

Stella bit her lip, twisting her fingers together. "Nina, I am so, so sorry. I know I'm ruining everything by being here."

"But I truly have nowhere else in the world to go."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, playing the tragic heroine to perfection. "I'm not like you, Nina. You have a warm family home to go back to. You have parents who protect you. You have a safety net. I have absolutely nothing."

Adrian reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Don't say that. You aren't completely alone."

She looked down at the floorboards. "Adrian, I really shouldn't have imposed on you guys. But knowing that monster is out of jail... I'm terrified to close my eyes."

He frowned, his protective instincts flaring. "Why won't you just file for divorce?"

Stella looked up at him through her wet eyelashes. "Where would I go if I did? My parents only care about my brother. They won't take me in."

"That house hasn't been my home for years. My brother's wife hates my guts and won't even let me through the gate. If I get divorced, I won't have a single person to rely on..."

Adrians entire demeanor softened into pure devotion. "You can rely on me."

My hand, reaching for the handle of my suitcase, stopped dead in mid-air. I gripped the plastic so hard my knuckles popped.

Seven years ago, when Adrian asked me to be his girlfriend under a sky full of stars, he had used that exact same tone.

He had held my hands and sworn, "Nina, no matter what happens in this life, you can always rely on me."

I had bet my entire future on that promise. I thought those words belonged exclusively to me.

I was wrong.

Adrians promises were just a charity fund. He handed them out to whoever looked the most pathetic.

I pulled up the handle of my luggage and walked toward the door. Adrian finally dropped Stella's hand, stepping forward to pat me condescendingly on the head. "Don't forget the engagement dinner tomorrow night."

I didn't say a single word.

I dragged my bags into the hallway. As the heavy door swung shut, I heard Stella's soft, guilt-ridden whisper.

"Adrian, is she really mad at me? Should I leave? I'm driving a wedge between you two."

Adrians soothing voice drifted through the crack in the door. "It has nothing to do with you. She'll get over it once she cools down. Both our families are meeting tomorrow, the engagement is locked in. We're solid."

The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off his voice for good.

It was past one in the morning by the time I dragged my bags into my childhood home. The second I saw my parents' faces, the dam broke. I sat on their couch and sobbed out every ounce of humiliation and heartbreak I had swallowed over the last month.

My parents were livid, shaking with righteous fury, but my mother just held me and smoothed my hair, coaxing me to go upstairs and get some sleep first.

That night, lying in the bed I grew up in, I slept like the dead.

For the first time in weeks, there was no one tossing and turning next to me. No one jumping out of bed at 3 AM to play the hero for someone else.

I woke up naturally with the morning sun. I rolled over and checked my phone.

Ninety-nine missed calls.

Some were from Mr. and Mrs. Wright. Most were from Adrian.

A text message popped onto the screen, aggressively demanding my attention.

[Where the hell are you, Nina?! Why are your parents at the restaurant demanding we cancel the wedding?!]