No More Scraps: I Cancelled Our Wedding

Im a strict vegetarian, but my best friend, Chloe, is a hardcore carnivore.

Brandon and I had been in a ten-year relationship. Just before our wedding, he said he wanted to take me out for a private celebration.

It wasn't until we arrived at the restaurant that I realized he had booked an all-meat steakhouse feast.

There wasn't a single green leaf in sight.

Sitting with us in the private booth was Chloe, who had just returned from studying abroad. Brandon was standing, busy carving steaks and putting them on her plate, while she devoured them with pure satisfaction.

"Ive missed this so much since I left the country," she said, her mouth full.

Looking at the man who was supposed to be my fianc, fussing over Chloe and piling her plate with meat, I raised my fork. I had no idea where to even start.

Halfway through the dinner, Brandon finally remembered that I couldn't eat meat.

With a casual flick of his wrist, he pushed a small plate of greasy, cold onion ringsa complimentary side dish the waiter had just brought outin front of me.

His voice was completely flat, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

"Chloe just got back. Dont ruin her mood."

"Just make do with this tonight. Next time, Ill take you to a fully vegan place."

Chloe wiped the corner of her mouth and chimed in.

"I honestly dont get whats so great about eating grass anyway. Brandon is the only one who has the patience to put up with your pickiness."

Looking at the table, there wasnt a single dish ordered for me.

So, this was what he called "putting up with me."

The two people in front of me were sharing food from the same plates, laughing and whispering with an intimacy that left no room for anyone else.

I was completely, invisibly shut out.

During that entire dinner, I stared at those cold, greasy onion rings.

They sat under the dim restaurant lights, glistening with a nauseating sheen.

Compared to the expensive steaks on the table, they looked cheap and pathetic.

Maybe to them, I was just like this complimentary side dishsomething cheap, tasteless, and easily discarded.

I slowly put my fork down. Suddenly, everything became clear.

People with different tastes can never truly share a table.

When Chloe went to the restroom, the heavy wooden door shut.

The very next second, Brandons words rained down on me, heavy with anger and blame.

His face was a mask of frustration, and he made no effort to hide his irritation.

"Who are you throwing a tantrum for? Its just a dinner! Is it really that hard for you to just sit here and be nice?"

"Chloe flew thousands of miles back just for our wedding. Shes finally home, and she just wanted some good comfort food."

"You and I eat together every single day. Haven't you had enough of me? Do you really have to ruin this one meal for her?"

A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my stomach.

I had been running around all day finalizing our wedding venue, and I hadn't even had a sip of water. My stomach was burning.

"Then what am I supposed to eat?"

I couldn't stop the lump from rising in my throat.

"Ive been working on our wedding details all day too. I haven't eaten a single bite."

"Even if you wanted to treat her to her favorite steak, couldn't you have ordered just one vegetarian dish for me?"

"In your eyes, do I only deserve the leftovers and free sides?"

My words hit a nerve, and his face flushed with embarrassment.

Just then, Chloe returned. Brandon and I were locked in a tense standoff, the air in the booth thick with hostility.

She quickly stepped in to play peacemaker.

"Hey, its just a dish."

"Lets just order something else."

Right on cue, the waiter opened the door and brought in a plate of pasta.

Chloe saw it and laughed, trying to break the tension.

"Brandon, do you remember our junior year of high school?"

"You said you were saving up for something, but you wouldn't tell me what. You even asked your mom to advance your allowance for the next six months. For that half-year, you didn't even have enough money for lunch. I had to feed you out of my own allowance. Back then, we used to share a single bowl of cheap pasta every single day."

Brandons expression instantly softened as the memory washed over him.

"Yeah, I was so broke I only ate once a day. I almost starved. Thank god for your late-night pasta."

"Looking back, its hilarious. But seriously, what were you saving up for back then anyway?"

Brandon thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't remember. Probably some sneakers or something. Its not important now."

Chloe waved over the waiter.

"Lets not talk about the past. Can we get a plain vegetarian pasta for Evelyn?"

The waiter pointed to the clock on the wall.

"Im so sorry, miss. Our kitchen is closed, and were shutting down for the night."

"No need," Brandon spoke up, making the decision for me. "Shes not that hungry anyway. No need to add anything."

I didn't care about what he was saying. I just sat there, frozen, my mind stuck on the timeline Chloe had just mentioned.

I remembered now.

During our junior year of high school, my family refused to pay for me to attend the National Merit Summer Camp.

I was the top student in our entire grade.

Even our counselor said it was a tragedy for me to miss it.

Brandon found out. Two weeks later, he secretly paid my tuition.

I had no idea where he got that much money.

By the time I found out, I was already sitting on the bus heading to the camp.

But I never knew... I never knew that Chloes money was mixed in with it.

Back then, he had lost so much weight.

Yet, he was always stressing about making sure I ate enough, acting like it was an emergency if I lost even half a pound.

It turned out that the moments that had defined my life, the memories of Brandons love that I cherished the most...

All had the shadow of another woman over them.

Brandon was now gently guiding a slightly tipsy Chloe out of the restaurant, his hand carefully supporting her back.

When Chloes foot slipped and she fell into his chest, he caught her. A soft, tender smile spread across his face, his eyes filled with gentle affection.

I hadn't seen that look on him in a very long time.

He had loved me once, fiercely and sincerely.

The only problem was, I was the only one who still remembered it.

To Brandon, it was ancient history.

After dinner, I clutched my aching stomach, walking far behind the two of them as they stumbled along, leaning on each other.

Chloe was swaying, unable to walk straight, her body practically draped over Brandon.

The alcohol had flushed her cheeks, making her already striking features look even more vibrant and alluring. She stopped in front of the Uber, blinking playfully.

"Brandon, thank you so much for tonight," she said. Then she glanced back at me and added, "Oh, and thank you too, Evelyn."

I said nothing.

Brandon held Chloe steady, bending down to carefully check the drivers details and whispering to him to drive safely.

The driver chuckled and teased, "Man, you really look out for your girlfriend."

Brandon froze. He instinctively glanced back at me, while Chloes eyes darted to me for a split second.

The silence was deafening.

But tellingly, neither of them made any move to correct him.

It was as if they shared a silent, mutual agreement to let the lie stand.

I lowered my head, staring at the faint bruise on the back of my hand from an IV drip I had a few days ago.

The physical wound had healed, but a much sharper, deeper pain was boring into my chest.

Only after Chloes taillights disappeared around the corner did Brandon finally remember my existence.

He tossed the car keys to his assistant, Mark, his tone returning to its usual cold, indifferent pitch.

"I have to go back to the office for some paperwork. Mark will drop you at the subway station, and you can take the train home."

The private, pre-arranged ride went to Chloe.

But I, his actual fiance, only got a ride to the nearest subway entrance.

I suddenly wanted to laugh, but my lips wouldn't move.

I shook my head and held up my phone.

"No need. I already ordered an Uber."

I hadn't said anything aggressive, yet Brandon stared at me for a long time.

His eyes were dark and heavy.

"Evelyn, what are you throwing a fit about now?"

I used to be terrified of that look. In the past, I would have immediately softened, apologized, and begged for peace.

Now, my lips twitched, but I felt absolutely zero desire to speak to him.

I wanted to ask him: Why did it have to be an all-meat steakhouse?

Why did he pick up Chloe first and completely ignore me?

Why didn't he correct the driver about who his real girlfriend was?

But now, none of it seemed to matter anymore.

Before I could even speak, he seemed to read my mind. He frowned, a look of deep exhaustion washing over his face.

His voice carried the impatient irritation of a man forced to explain himself.

"Shes a girl, and its late. Its not safe for her to go home alone. Letting the driver think Im her boyfriend isn't a big deal."

"Chloe is your friend too. Why do you have to be so petty over every little thing?"

"Evelyn, stop being so immature."

He finished his speech and stood there, waiting for my usual surrender.

I stared at him, my eyes wide and dry. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but I didn't even know where to start.

After a long silence, I heard myself speak. My voice was incredibly quiet.

"I'm fine. An Uber is just easier. Ive had a long day, and I just want to go home and sleep."

Looking at my pale face, he seemed to finally remember that I was his fiance. He took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly.

He reached out to grab my wrist.

"Fine. Ill have Mark take you all the way home."

"No," I said, stepping back to avoid his touch.

"My ride is here."

His hand remained frozen in mid-air.

A look I didn't care to decipher flashed in his eyes, but his voice remained stubborn.

"Suit yourself."

I had already turned my back on him and climbed into the Uber.

My phone buzzed. It was a confirmation notification for a reservation at a vegan restaurant I had booked weeks ago.

But there was not a single text from Brandon.

To him, letting Mark drive me home was already his way of bowing his head.

I swiped left and deleted the notification.

Rain started to patter against the car window, blurring the streetlights. People drift apart just like that.

An umbrella offered after the storm is over... is an umbrella I no longer want.

The moment I got home, I opened my food delivery app.

I typed in "vegan" and watched a colorful array of options pop up.

I ordered everything I wanted.

Only then did I allow myself to sink into the couch.

There were so many options out there, and I could easily provide them for myself.

I didn't need to force myself to sit at a fancy table just to maintain appearances, starving while staring at a plate of pathetic side dishes.

I finished every single bite of my food. The moment the warm water hit my stomach, I finally felt like I was alive again.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door unlocking cut through the quiet.

The door swung open, and a wave of barely suppressed rage walked in.

"Evelyn! Why the hell aren't you answering your phone?"

It was Brandon.

I unlocked my phone and scrolled down. There were dozens of texts, all demanding to know where I was.

I answered instinctively.

"I was eating. I didn't see them."

Then, a soft, soothing female voice came from behind him.

"Brandon, don't be mad. Evelyn probably just didn't hear it."

Chloe was here too. I looked down and saw she was wearing my slippers.

They were the exact same style as Brandon's, just a different color.

Brandon noticed where I was looking. Without a single word of apology, his expression remained entirely defensive.

"Chloes apartment had a power outage, and she can't stay there. Shes staying with us tonight."

The night before our wedding, my fianc brought another woman into the home I had spent months decorating.

I frowned, my voice dropping cold.

"Are there no hotels in this city?"

Seeing my expression, Chloe flinched. She shrank back behind Brandon, her fingers clutching the hem of his jacket.

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Brandon, Evelyn... I can just go to a hotel. Please don't fight because of me."

Brandons frown deepened.

He took Chloes hand and stepped forward, putting himself between us in a protective stance.

"No. I brought you here, and youre staying here."

His body instinctively shielded her as he glared down at me.

"Shes a girl, and we are her only two friends in this city. You want her to stay in some random hotel alone?"

"I thought you said Chloe was your best friend."

I didn't look at him. My eyes were fixed on Chloe, who was hiding behind his back.

Chloe had been my only friend.

Memories of our past rushed back like a tidal wave.

When I was being bullied in middle school, she was the one who stood in front of me, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of that dark alley.

She had been shaking with fear herself, but she still hugged me and said, "Ill always stand by you, Evelyn."

Because I had once survived a terrifying flight with severe turbulence, I developed a crippling phobia of flying.

When my sales performance at work plummeted and I was about to get fired, she was the one who used her connections to help me land international clients.

She volunteered to do all the traveling for me. For six months, she flew back and forth overseas while I managed things from the office.

This time, to make it back for my wedding, she had worked double-time, pushing herself to the limit. She even had to use an oxygen mask on the flight back due to sheer exhaustion.

When I first met her, she was Brandons childhood friend.

But looking back...

I had known her just as long as he had.

In my heart, she was even more important than Brandon.

The memories faded, and my gaze locked onto Chloe.

But somewhere along the way, I had been relegated to a mere background character, a disposable piece of their lives.

She stood side-by-side with Brandon, and the line between us was drawn crystal clear.

The girl who had promised to always stand by me was gone.

I pressed my lips together and remained silent.

Seeing my silence, Brandons frustration flared into pure anger.

His eyes fell on the empty food containers on the coffee table. His lips tightened into a hard line, and his brow furrowed.

"This trash again. Youre always eating this garbage. Cant you eat like a normal human being for once?"

"Evelyn, youre twenty-four, not fourteen."

"Its not like we cant afford real food. Do you really have to eat this rabbit food just to make yourself feel special?"

"For years, Ive had to watch you eat these disgusting, weird-looking vegetables. It honestly makes me sick."

His voice was like ice, every word a sharp blade aimed directly at me.

"Brandon! What is wrong with you?"

Chloe pulled at his sleeve from behind, and Brandon seemed to realize what he had just said.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

I stood there, completely numb, staring at the man in front of me as if he were a total stranger.

I wasn't born a vegetarian.

When I was fourteen, my stepmother moved in with her son. He was a chubby, spoiled kid who loved meat.

From the moment they crossed the threshold, I lost my right to eat meat.

One night, I reached for a pork chop on the table. My stepmother slapped my hand away and forced me into the basement.

There, she made me eat a giant bowl of raw, rancid pork fat mixed with grease.

I threw up until my stomach was empty, but she kept forcing it down my throat.

Since then, the smell of grease and meat was forever linked to the damp mold of that basement, to screaming, humiliation, and terror.

When I eventually passed out from malnutrition on the school track, it was Brandon who carried me to the nurse's office.

The school nurse lectured me about extreme dieting, telling me I needed a balanced diet.

She thought I was starving myself to be skinny. I lay on the cot, too weak to explain.

Brandons eyes were bright, but his words were sharp.

He corrected the nurse with fierce conviction.

"Ma'am, you don't know anything about her home life. Don't judge her."

He was the class president back then, and I was the girl whose financial aid forms never had a parent's signature.

After the embarrassed nurse left, he turned to look at me.

My pale reflection was mirrored in his eyes. It was the first time I felt the sting of exposed pride.

He didn't say a word, but for the first time, I felt the urge to cry and tell someone everything. Back then, his eyes were filled with pure, aching heartbreak for me.

Nothing like the raging, hateful man standing before me now.

Suddenly, I realized I didn't know him at all.

What made it so hilarious was that he knew everything. He knew exactly why I couldn't eat meat.

Three years ago, when my trauma resurfaced and I had a severe eating disorder, I was seeing a therapist, taking hormone pills, and crying myself to sleep every night.

He had held me tight and whispered, "I don't care if I have to eat grass with you for the rest of our lives. Its no big deal."

I had believed him.

I was so incredibly stupid.

Tears spilled over as a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Yes! Im not normal! So what?"

"Its not like you just met me today."

"I haven't changed, Brandon. You did." I stared directly into his eyes, my gaze cold and sharp.

"Were done. Lets call off the wedding."

"From now on, you never have to force yourself to eat 'disgusting' food ever again."

As those words left my mouth, a massive weight lifted from my chest.

I grabbed my phone and my car keys, turning toward the door.

Chloe grabbed my arm, her voice frantic.

"Evelyn, its pouring outside! Where are you going to go?"

She turned to Brandon, shaking his arm.

"Brandon, say something! Don't just let her leave like this!"

He didn't move. He stood there in heavy, stubborn silence.

I shook Chloes hand off my arm and walked out. Just as I stepped into the hallway, Brandons voice cut through the air behind me.

"She has such a temper. You can't even say a word to her anymore."

"Let her go! She doesn't even have a family. Lets see where she thinks she can go!"

I let out a cold laugh. The pain in my heart was numb now. My body shook, but my steps only grew steadier.

The people closest to you always know exactly where to plunge the knife.

The day I handed him the blade, I should have known he would eventually drive it into my heart.