The Groom She Begs For Now
I found out from an Instagram post.
She thought she was waking up to a wedding day.
Instead, she woke up to a single text from me: We're done.
1.
The day before my wedding.
That was the day Sophie’s childhood friend took her to a club for her “final night of freedom.”
The last text I got from her was around dinnertime.
“Ethan, grabbing a bite with the girls. Dylan’s planned a surprise party for me later.”
That single sentence left me pacing the floor of our apartment until the dead of night.
It wasn’t until I was scrolling through my phone, just to feel some connection to the world outside my own head, that I saw Dylan’s Instagram story. And then I understood why she hadn’t had a free hand to text me back.
I stared at the photo for a long time, the two of them so close the image seemed to radiate a shared heat. A block of ice formed in my chest. I had never, not in a million scenarios, imagined this happening to me—my fiancée, sleeping with another man the night before we were supposed to get married.
My mind, a traitor, started filling in the details. Sophie, snuggled into his arms, the way she sometimes did with me, her voice soft and playful. The thought was a physical blow, a vicious current dragging me back through our shared memories, tainting every single one.
And through it all, as my world fractured, there was only silence from her. No explanation.
A bitter question echoed in the quiet of our apartment: What was I to her? Really?
The pain in my chest was so sharp it was hard to breathe. I got up and walked through the rooms we were supposed to fill with a life, looking at the festive decorations we’d put up, the little touches meant to celebrate our beginning. Next to the photo glowing on my phone, it was all a sick, cruel joke.
I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror and saw a grief on my face I didn’t recognize. My own tears, tracking down my cheeks, seemed to belong to a stranger.
Steeling myself against the ache, I typed out a message.
“Sophie, we’re done. The wedding’s off.”
A long time passed. Still no reply.
I knew she’d see it eventually. But I no longer cared what her response might be.
Numbly, I started putting everything back into its box—the suit I was supposed to wear tomorrow, the gifts, the carefully chosen favors. Unpacking them had filled me with an almost unbearable excitement. Packing them back up was like performing surgery on my own hopes.
Sophie was brilliant, beautiful, the kind of woman who seemed destined for greatness. She’d been the campus queen in college, president of the student government. A Fortune 500 company had recruited her right out of her internship, and in just a few years, she’d climbed to an executive position.
Everyone said she was a prodigy, that her future was limitless.
And everyone said I was punching way above my weight.
I’d tried to answer their doubts and their whispers not with words, but with action. With my devotion. I worked hard, I pushed myself, I was supportive and understanding. I had tried, with every fiber of my being, to be the perfect partner for her.
And she had betrayed me.
There are some things in this world that happen zero times, or they happen a thousand times. There’s no in-between.
I refused to spend the rest of my life wondering, looking over my shoulder, living in a world colored green with envy and suspicion.
This was the only way. The best way.
I sent a text to my mom, telling her the wedding was off. I expected a text back, but my phone rang almost immediately. Her voice was thick with concern, asking what had happened. I didn't want to ruin her night, but she deserved the truth. I told her.
The silence on the other end of the line stretched on. When she finally spoke, her voice was raw.
“You do what you need to do, honey. I support you.”
My mom had been dreaming of this day for so long. Tomorrow, she was supposed to watch her son get married. I imagine her heartbreak was only a shade less than my own.
After we hung up, I moved through the apartment like a ghost, taking down every sign of the celebration that would never happen. Now that it was over, none of it meant anything.
Finally, as the first hint of dawn greyed the windows, I packed away the last of it, turned off my phone, and collapsed into bed.
2.
I woke to the sound of frantic knocking. It was already past noon.
They couldn’t reach me, my phone was off, so of course, they had come to my door.
I ignored it, letting the sound echo until it finally faded away. They gave up.
If Sophie’s parents hadn’t been so incredibly kind to me over the years, if our own history didn’t mean something, I would have blown everything up. I would have played that photo on a projector at the ceremony for everyone to see.
But all I wanted now was a clean break. I wanted nothing more to do with her.
The thought of her… it repulsed me.
But in the end, she found me anyway.
She was wearing a full face of makeup, but it couldn't hide the raw exhaustion in her eyes. She stared at me for a long moment, her expression hardening into disapproval. “Ethan, do you have any idea how much of a joke you made of me today? Leaving the groom missing on our wedding day!”
Her voice trembled, as if she’d been crying.
I looked at her, my face a blank mask. “Before you came here to attack me, Sophie,” I said, my voice flat, “did you ever stop to think why?”
Her gaze flickered. Her tone softened. “Ethan, don’t be childish.”
“I have so much on my plate, I’m so tired. Can’t you just be understanding for once?”
On the surface, it sounded like she was conceding, trying to find common ground. But it was just another form of evasion. She never once mentioned the hotel. Or the picture.
Of course she had a lot on her plate, busy as she was checking into hotels with other men. And I’m sure she was tired. Juggling two men must be exhausting.
“Oh, you’re busy? Then you should go take care of your business. It has nothing to do with me.”
I didn’t want to waste another breath on her. I turned to leave.
She grabbed my arm. The moment her fingers touched my skin, I recoiled like I’d been burned.
“Get off me!” I snapped.
She stumbled back two steps, her eyes wide with disbelief. She had never seen me like this. Her eyes immediately welled up, shimmering with tears that threatened to spill over.
“Sophie, I’m not in the mood to fight. If you don’t want to make this uglier than it already is, accept that we’re broken up and leave me alone.”
When I moved to walk away again, she blocked my path.
“Ethan, what is this about? You owe me an explanation for the wedding!” she insisted, biting her lip, her eyes full of a bewildering sense of victimhood. “You know how many people my parents invited. All of our friends. You left me standing there alone, Ethan. Do you know what they’re all saying about me? How they’re all laughing at me?”
“I had to face every single one of them, apologize over and over again. I’m just so, so tired,” she finished, her voice cracking. “Couldn’t you have just talked to me?”
I looked her straight in the eye. “You deserved it.”
“What?” she whispered, frowning.
“You heard me. I said you deserved it. Did you think about any of this when you were checking into a hotel room with him?”
Her face fell, the mask of victimhood crumbling away. Her jaw tightened. “Your mind is a filthy place, Ethan,” she spat.
I couldn't help but laugh, a bitter, hollow sound. Was she really going to claim they just lay there, innocently? As if sharing a hotel bed was somehow different?
“You’re right,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could a piece of trash like me ever hope to understand a pristine angel like you?”
“We’re done now. You’re free to go find someone more suitable.”
Her body tensed, her eyes practically shooting sparks. After a long moment, the anger on her face softened into something more calculated.
“Ethan, I didn’t come here to fight with you. But you at least owe my parents an explanation, don’t you think?”
3.
I fell silent.
She was right about that. I could treat her with the contempt she deserved, but I couldn’t disrespect her parents.
Robert and Carol were kind, reasonable people. The complete opposite of their daughter. While everyone else whispered that I was lucky to have Sophie, they had never once looked down on me. They treated me like their own son.
My weakness has always been that I assume the best in people. Because her parents were good to me, I poured all of that gratitude back into my relationship with her. I bent over backward for her. I never said no.
She was laser-focused on her career, so I made sure to leave work on time to have dinner ready for her. While she ate, I’d draw her a bath, doing everything I could to create a sanctuary where she could unwind from her stressful days.
I loved her. And I thought she loved me, too.
But for her to do what she did… it meant she never cared about my feelings at all.
I let out a heavy sigh and agreed to go to their house for dinner. Not for her. For them. I needed to tell them the truth, face to face.
She rushed to open the passenger door of her car for me, but I just glanced at it and walked to my own.
In my rearview mirror, I saw her face darken.
When I parked outside their house, the familiar smell of a home-cooked meal drifted out. Every time I came over, they’d prepare a feast. I had imagined a future filled with many more of their dinners. I never thought this would be the last one.
Before Sophie could even get her key in the door, it swung open.
Robert’s face lit up when he saw me. “Ethan! You’re here! Come on in, have a seat. I’m just running out to grab some fruit.”
Every time I visited, he made sure the house was stocked with my favorites. Sophie never ate fruit, so they never kept it around otherwise.
I opened my mouth to say something, to stop him, but my words felt clumsy and awkward. He was already halfway down the driveway.
After leaving their family humiliated at the wedding, I had come prepared for their anger, their disappointment. But here they were, treating me just the same as always.
Usually, seeing them filled me with warmth, and I’d greet them enthusiastically. Now, I couldn’t even manage the words to address them.
I walked to the dining table just as Carol came out of the kitchen with a steaming platter.
“Ethan, you made it!” she said with a bright smile. “Don’t worry about a thing, you just sit down and relax. I’ve got one more dish and we’ll be ready!”
They were both so genuinely happy to see me, as if the whole disastrous wedding fiasco had never happened. Their warmth made a bitter lump form in my throat.
If only. If only we could have actually been a family.
But Sophie had done the one thing I could never forgive.
I sat stiffly on the sofa, staring blankly at some mindless show on TV. Sophie poured me a glass of juice and sat down next to me. A little too close.
“You’ve never been this formal here before,” she said quietly.
I shifted away slightly. “Things are different now. A little distance is appropriate.”
Sophie flinched. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” she asked, her voice low.
“No.”
I shook my head. “This is the last time I’ll be here.”
She bit her lip, staring at me with a complex expression, saying nothing. The air grew thick with unspoken things.
Then, mercifully, the doorbell rang.
4.
A cheerful voice called from outside.
“Soph! It’s me, open up!”
Sophie and I locked eyes. We both knew it was Dylan.
After a moment’s hesitation, she got up and opened the door.
Dylan breezed in, his voice booming. “Soph, what is Carol cooking? I could smell it from the street!”
He walked over to the shoe cabinet and pulled out a pair of slippers identical to Sophie’s, just in a different color. Standing next to each other, they looked like a matched set. A couple.
He was carrying two gift bags and started toward the kitchen to greet Carol, but he stopped halfway, his eyes landing on me. “Oh. Ethan,” he said, the word catching in his throat. “You’re here too.”
I stared at him, my expression cold, and didn't bother to reply. My eyes, however, caught the glint of the watch on his wrist. It looked exactly like the one Sophie had been so excited about finding a few weeks ago. The one I’d assumed was a wedding gift for me.
A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips.
As Sophie’s childhood friend, Dylan was a fixture here. He treated their house like his own.
At the dinner table, Carol, sensing my discomfort, kept a warm smile fixed on her face. She ladled soup into my bowl and then turned to Sophie. “Honey, put some food on Ethan’s plate.”
I quickly interjected. “It’s okay, Carol, really. I can get it myself.”
Sophie’s hand, which had been reaching for the serving utensils, froze mid-air.
I remembered other dinners, when Carol had made the same request. Sophie had always bristled at it, complaining that sharing utensils was unhygienic. I could still hear her sharp, impatient voice in my head.
“It’s gross, all that saliva. Can’t he get it himself?”
The memory was a fresh sting.
Carol’s smile faltered for a second before she recovered, simply telling me to eat more.
Dylan shot me a look, then casually picked up a chicken wing and dropped it into Sophie’s bowl. She didn’t show the slightest hint of displeasure, just picked it up and started eating.
So, I was disgusting, but Dylan was acceptable. The double standard was breathtaking. In any other setting, I would have slapped them both.
Robert saw the exchange and frowned at his daughter. “Sophie, can you please try to have some manners?” he said, giving her a pointed look.
I kept quiet. Sophie glanced at me, then resentfully placed a piece of fish on my plate.
This time, both of her parents’ faces fell.
They both knew I was allergic to seafood. But Sophie, apparently, had forgotten.
Still, I finished the rice in my bowl, leaving only that large, conspicuous piece of fish.
I had shared one last meal with them. Now it was time to say what I came to say.
“Robert, Carol, thank you so much for dinner.”
I took a deep breath. “There are a few things I need to say. First, about the wedding, I want to apologize. I’m truly sorry for embarrassing you.”
“Second, Sophie and I have broken up. I won’t be coming around anymore. I’m sorry to have disappointed you both.”
They looked at me, stunned, at a loss for words.
“Ethan, you…” Sophie started, but Dylan cut her off, his voice rising with indignation.
“Ethan, that’s not right! First, you ditch the wedding, and now you’re talking about breaking up? What do you think Sophie is to you?” He puffed out his chest. “I thought I could trust you with her, but it turns out you’re just going to treat her like this. Unbelievable.”
5.
The hypocrisy was nauseating.
I shot him a look, a cold smile playing on my lips. “My treating her like this… isn’t that exactly what you wanted?”
“What are you talking about?” Dylan blustered, putting on a show of cluelessness that only made me feel sicker.
“Ethan, that’s enough!” Sophie’s voice was sharp, her face a thundercloud. “How many times do I have to explain it to you? Dylan is like a brother to me! We’re not what you think!”
At her words, Dylan’s face darkened, but I just laughed.
Like a brother? A brother who tells you it’s better to sleep in his arms?
I had no energy left to argue with them. It was pointless. Their little outburst had made things painfully awkward for her parents.
I stood up, softening my tone as I addressed them. “Robert, Carol, I have to get going. Thank you again for everything.”
“If the opportunity arises, I’d love to take you both out to dinner sometime, just us.”
They knew the situation was unsalvageable. They stood up, their faces etched with regret. “Ethan,” Carol said, her voice soft, “please, come and visit us anytime. You’ll always be welcome here.”
I knew she meant it. But I also knew I could never come back.
After leaving their house, I called my best man, Ben. He’d handled the wedding car, the photographers, everything. After the mess I’d made, I owed him an apology.
“So,” he said, sliding into the booth across from me at the bar, a shit-eating grin on his face. “The wedding of your dreams ends with the bride standing solo at the altar?”
“Come on, man. I’m going through it. The least you can do is not rub it in.”
Seeing the genuine pain on my face, Ben’s teasing expression softened.
“You pulling a runaway groom act like that… it had to be something big. Don’t tell me, the night before the wedding…”
I didn’t answer. I just downed my whiskey in one go.
He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Damn. You only read about this stuff online. Didn’t think it happened in real life.”
“I told you before, man,” he continued, his voice serious now. “I never thought Sophie loved you as much as you loved her. Looks like she was just stringing you along.”
Ben had said things like that before, but I’d been too deep in love to listen. Now, with the clarity of a breakup, I could see it. All the little details I had ignored, the small dismissals, the casual inconsiderations.
They were all signs. She didn't love me.
“If she doesn’t love me,” I said, my voice rough, “then I’m setting her free.”
Ben filled my glass and clinked it with his.
“You know what they say. Sometimes you have to lose someone to meet the right one.”
He grinned. “Look ahead, man. Better things are waiting for you.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and we both broke into a laugh.
This whole thing had shattered my heart, but I wasn't going to drown my sorrows in booze. Just having someone to vent to, someone who got it, was enough to take the edge off.
Ben was right. No one is indispensable. No point in wasting my life on someone who didn’t want it.
Sophie was an amazing woman, but I wasn’t so bad myself.
When it came down to it, all I had lost was someone who didn’t love me. That wasn’t a tragedy worth mourning for long.
It happened faster than I expected. My mindset shifted.
When I walked back into the office, I felt like myself again. Sharp, focused, ready to go.
People who didn’t know any better assumed I was glowing from post-wedding bliss. They offered their congratulations, and I accepted them with a tight smile, the irony a bitter taste in my mouth. Just a few days ago, I’d been the one handing out wedding candy, some of which was still sitting in bowls on people’s desks.
In that short time, I had lived through betrayal, a non-wedding, and a breakup.
6.
“Ethan, congratulations! You finally did it, man!” a colleague I was friendly with said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Next step, baby prep, right? Get ready for fatherhood.”
He lowered his voice. “But you know, that VP position is basically yours. A paternity leave right after the promotion, though… that could be tricky.”
I knew he meant well. It was something I had thought about, too. I had worked for years for this promotion; it was the opportunity of a lifetime.
Before, I had honestly considered passing it up for my family, to be there for Sophie and a baby.
Now, that was no longer a concern.
“Like you said, it’s mine for the taking,” I replied, my voice firm. “And right now, my career is the only thing I want to focus on.”
My colleague nodded, though he looked a little confused. “Your family’s not pressuring you for kids?”
I gazed out the window. “From now on,” I said with a small smile, “I’m just going to live life on my own terms.”
He looked at me, a flicker of understanding in his eyes, and finally nodded in agreement. “You’re right. You gotta live for yourself sometimes. Be a little selfish.”
I hoped it was really that simple.
In the days that followed, I poured every ounce of my being into my work. I’ve always been ambitious, but for Sophie, I had always held a part of myself back, saving my energy for our life at home. Now, with the VP title within reach, I was holding nothing back.
And I discovered something strange. When I was completely immersed in my work, I didn't think about Sophie at all.
A full week went by, and I hadn't seen or heard from her.
I started to believe it was really over, that we had finally, cleanly, drawn a line under our story.
I was wrong.
We were going to see each other again.
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