Goodbye, Never Again

1
The wedding rehearsal was in full swing when my fiancée, Ava, suddenly gagged and covered her mouth.
Her adopted brother, Alan, his face a mask of panic, swept her into his arms and rushed her to the hospital.
Half an hour later, my phone rang. I'm pregnant.
Joy surged through me, but her next words were delivered with a terrifying calm.
"It's Alan's... He'd just been dumped that night, shivering from the cold rain. I was just trying to keep him warm, I swear, I never thought..."
"We have to keep this from Mom and Dad. He'll move in to take care of me, and we'll figure it out after the baby is born."
"Postpone the wedding for a year. You handle the guests, make the apologies."
My throat tightened, a knot of concrete lodging itself there. I couldn't force out a single word.
She continued, her voice devoid of emotion, "And you need to quit your job. Right now. I can't risk any stress these next few months, and Alan's career is taking off. He can't be distracted."
A laugh, sharp and bitter, escaped my lips. "Alright then."
She hung up, seemingly satisfied.
But what she didn't know was the bet I'd made with someone else. If I wasn't married by thirty, I'd marry her.
And today, of all days, was my thirtieth birthday.
...
Perhaps my calm was too unnatural. Three seconds after she hung up, Ava called back.
"Richard, I'm sorry. I know this is my fault. But you have to believe me, I only see him as a brother. The baby was a complete accident."
I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Right. Such deep brotherly love. Keeping each other warm right into bed. How touching."
The line went silent for a beat, then she sighed, a sound heavy with manufactured weariness.
"I understand if you're angry. Yell at me, hit me, I don't care. But Alan's an orphan. Even though Mom and Dad adopted him and treat him like their own son, the family would never accept this. They'd throw him out on the street."
"So, I need you to claim the baby as yours. It's perfect, actually. You'll be home from your job, so no one will ever suspect it isn't yours."
I tilted my head back, forcing the heat from my eyes. My voice was a dry rasp. "Ava... let's just not get married."
"Not get married?" A few seconds of stunned silence, then her voice exploded in my ear. "Richard, are you kidding me?! You're the one who's been begging me to set a date for months, going on about how we've been together for five years!"
"Everyone in our circle knows you're my fiancé! Do you think marriage is some kind of game? When did you become so childish, Richard?"
I could picture her perfectly, brows furrowed in that familiar, condescending way. Her next words were a threat, just as I expected.
"Listen to me, Mr. Reid, I'm only going to ask you this once. Are you really calling off this wedding?!"
My fingers clenched around my phone, the plastic groaning in protest. A bitter smile touched my lips. "Yeah. I'm done with you, Ava."
She scoffed. "I don't have time for your little tantrums. Do whatever you want."
The line went dead.
I stood alone in the center of the grand ballroom, under the weight of a hundred shocked stares. With a single, sharp tug, I ripped the boutonnière from my lapel and ran.
Ava's parents moved to block my path, her father striking first.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Richard? Just because her brother took her to the hospital, you're going to ruin this wedding? Make the Sterlings a laughingstock in front of hundreds of guests?"
Ava's mother added with a disdainful sniff, "I always said you weren't right for her. The Sterlings have a legacy, a name that means something. The Reids? You're just new money. It was never a match."
"But my daughter insisted, so what could I do? And now look at the mess you've made!"
Her father sneered. "Fine! Call it off! Better now than later, before that temper of yours tarnishes the Sterling name for good."
The fault was entirely Ava's, yet here they were, painting me as the villain.
I clutched the crushed flower in my fist, my fingertips trembling. "It was your daughter who canceled the wedding. As for the reason... you should ask her. It's too humiliating for me to say."
Hearing it was Ava's decision only made them bolder.
"Even if she did, you're the groom! You don't just run off without a word! You should be on that stage, apologizing to our guests!"
"What did your parents teach you? You have no grasp of basic decency. How could you ever be a son-in-law to this family?"
I took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm not marrying Ava. Now, if you'll excuse me, please get out of my way."
"You!" Their faces contorted with shock, clearly unprepared for such defiance from the normally placid man they knew.
I didn't spare them another glance, striding past them toward the dressing room.
"You ill-mannered brat!" Ava's mother shrieked at my back.
Someone was already waiting for me inside.
The couture gown she wore hugged her flawless figure perfectly. As she turned, the light caught the soft curve of her cheek, but the dark circles under her eyes told a story of sleepless nights.
She saw me and glided forward, that familiar, sweet smile playing on her lips.
I looked away. "I thought a certain someone swore they'd never set foot at my wedding."
She leaned in close, her warm breath ghosting over my ear. In that instant, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the stubborn girl from ten years ago.
"Richard Reid, a bet's a bet."
I pressed my lips together, silent.
Panic flashed in her eyes. "You didn't forget, did you?!"
"I don't care! We're getting married in three days. If you don't show up..." She paused, taking a breath as if steeling herself. "I'll show up at your house and drag you to the courthouse myself!"
Before I could refuse, she spun around and darted out of the room.
A real laugh, genuine this time, bubbled up from my chest.
That idiot. Of course, I remembered the bet.
Our families had been friends forever. We grew up together, too close to ever be lovers. Ten years ago, she confessed her feelings, and I told her we were better off as friends. The look of hurt on her face had prompted her to make a wild bet.
I never thought I'd lose.
I had just changed out of my tuxedo when a picture from Ava landed on my phone.
A mountain of my belongings was piled up on the curb in front of our villa, dumped like trash. But it was the wedding quilt my mother had handmade that stabbed me in the heart. My mom, who had never touched a needle in her life, had spent three months hunched over it, her fingers dotted with pinpricks of blood. The intricate patterns of intertwined swans, embroidered in vibrant silk, were now sullied, screaming at me from inside a cheap, clear plastic bag.
「Come get your junk. Now.」
「If you don't, I'm having the housekeeper trash it.」
I stared at the screen, a chill seeping into my fingertips. She knew exactly how to twist the knife. I could leave everything else, but not that quilt.
「Fine. I'm on my way.」
The night before the wedding, Mom had pressed it into my hands, her eyes shining. "Be happy for a lifetime, my son."
But when I arrived, the curb was empty. It had only been half an hour. I told her I was coming. Was she that desperate to be rid of me?
Rage ignited in my gut. I shoved the front door open and stormed inside.
The scene before me plunged me into an icy abyss.
Ava was perched on the edge of the dining table while Alan knelt before her. His hands were on her waist, his cheek pressed against her swollen belly, a look of tender adoration on his face that was like a physical blow.
"Ava," Alan murmured, his voice soft. "The baby just kicked me."
A smile I'd never seen before graced Ava's lips, a look so soft it could turn to water. "So feisty. Just like you were as a boy. I hope he gets your eyes."
Alan's lips curved in a gentle smile.
Ava leaned down and brushed a kiss across his mouth, her tone suddenly laced with guilt. "Are you sure you want to leave after the baby is born? You could... you could stay. To help me with him. A child needs his real father."
Alan pressed a finger to her lips, shaking his head. "Ava, if I stay, what about Richard?"
At the mention of my name, Ava flinched, her expression darkening.
"Him? This 'breakup' is just a tantrum. Once the baby's here, he'll come crawling back, begging to help. He comes from a family of sharks. All they see is the bottom line. Where's the dignity in that?"
"Have you forgotten how he chased after me? The way he groveled? It makes me sick just thinking about it."
Silent tears tracked down my cheeks. My brave confession, the one that had taken all my courage, had disgusted her for all these years.
The Sterlings were the most prestigious family in the city's art scene, and Ava was its youngest star, a master of modern art. Five years ago, she came to my father with a portfolio, seeking investors for the new Sterling Arts Foundation. Dad was utterly charmed and introduced us. It was love at first sight for me. I shamelessly begged her to teach me how to paint.
She'd pointed a brush at me, exasperated. "You're hopeless! Zero talent!"
I just grinned. "Then be my girlfriend. We'll complement each other."
Her eyes flickered to Alan, who was sketching quietly nearby. She suddenly grabbed my hand, a self-mocking smile on her face. "Fine."
Overjoyed, I'd pulled her into a hug, completely missing Alan storming out of the room or the way her body went rigid in my arms.
Only now did I understand. Her heart had always belonged to Alan. No wonder she never taught me to paint again, never even let me into her studio.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. I was about to turn and leave, but I couldn't forget my mother's quilt.
"Richard!" Ava's head snapped up, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. "What are you doing, lurking in the doorway like a creep? I threw your things out. Having second thoughts already?"
I dug my nails into my palm. "The quilt. Give it back."
She blinked, her expression turning colder. "Some old blanket? What would I want with that?"
"My mother made it," I said, my voice starting to shake. "Give it back, and I'll leave."
Seeing the tears welling in my eyes, she frowned. "You're crying? Are you insane? Over a stupid blanket?"
"YES!" I roared, the tears finally breaking free.
Ava ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. She opened her mouth to say something, but Alan spoke first, a sudden realization dawning on his face.
"Richard, please don't yell at Ava. I had the maid put your things in the guest room."
As he spoke, he gently caressed her stomach, his own eyes reddening. "Richard, can't you stay? If it's because of the baby... I can... I can ask Ava to get rid of it. His existence was a mistake. Neither of you wants him..."
His voice broke, and he dissolved into racking sobs.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Ava's voice was a raw, uncontrolled shriek. She collapsed into Alan's arms, glaring at me with pure venom. "He can leave, but he is not touching my child! You and this baby are all I have now!"
"Richard, if that's why you came, then get the hell out of my house!"
I let out a cold laugh and stalked toward the guest room.
The quilt was tossed on the floor, stained with grime and dotted with cigarette burns. The beautiful embroidered swans were now a filthy, unrecognizable mess.
My finger trembled as I pointed at it. "Alan. Explain."
He shrank back timidly. "I-I didn't mean to. I thought it was just... trash."
He bent to pick it up. "Don't be angry, Richard. I'll wash it for you."
But before he could touch it, Ava lunged, shoving me with all her might. I stumbled backward, my head cracking against the sharp corner of the bedframe. A starburst of pain exploded behind my eyes, followed by the warm trickle of blood down my temple.
"Don't touch it, Alan! Don't dirty your hands!"
I didn't make a sound, just looked at Ava, a ghost of a smile on my face. I needed to see, once and for all, if she had a heart.
She stood with her arm around Alan, her eyes filled with an all-consuming loathing.
"How much? I'll pay you for it! I'm begging you, just stop. Stop torturing me and my brother with this insignificant piece of cloth. Does it make you feel powerful?"
A gaping hole opened in my chest. She'd always been distant, but she had never looked at me with such hate. She must despise me now.
Suddenly, none of it mattered anymore. Why was I still here, just to be an object of her disgust?
I gave up.
The quilt was ruined. I didn't want it anymore.
And this ruined woman... I didn't want her either.
I pushed myself to my feet. "Ava, I don't need your money."
As I turned to leave, she grabbed my arm, a flicker of something like regret in her eyes. "You're upset today. Go back to your parents' place for a few days to cool off. I'll come get you in three days."
I shook her hand off and walked out of the house that was never truly my home.
...
Back at my parents' house, I explained the whole sordid affair.
My mother let out a long sigh of relief. "Son, I'm thanking my lucky stars! What if you'd only found this out after you were married? What would you have done?"
"And the Sterlings have the nerve to look down on us for being business people, for having the 'stench of money.' Look at the shameless filth their 'cultured' family produced!"
My father sighed. "Let's not talk about it. It's hard enough on Richard as it is. I've already told my assistant to pull all our funding from the Sterling Arts Foundation. The Reids are done with the Sterlings."
I was about to bring up Chloe when my mother suddenly said, "Oh, that's right. Chloe stopped by today. She even brought her dowry."
She pulled a velvet box from a drawer. "That girl certainly doesn't waste any time."
Inside was a pair of antique jade pendants, a family heirloom.
It was then that it truly hit me. Chloe was serious about the wedding in three days.
Later that night, a message from Alan popped up on my phone.
「Richard, please come back.」
「I'll move out. I'll convince Ava to end the pregnancy.」
「You two have been together for five years. You can't let me ruin that. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life.」
I stared at the screen and scoffed. If he wanted to play games, he could play them with his sister.
I typed back two words: 「Do you.」
Then, I blocked his number.
With that done, I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, a hollow feeling echoing in my chest. My phone buzzed again. A video call from Chloe.
"Richard," she said, her eyes sparkling on the screen. "Make a heart with your hands for me."
I blinked. "Why all of a sudden..." A heart? How corny.
"I don't care," she pouted, leaning closer to the camera. "Do it now."
Her childish expression made me smile. I quickly flashed a heart sign, feeling goosebumps rise on my own skin.
She immediately clutched her chest and closed her eyes in an exaggerated swoon. When she opened them again, she winked.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Look outside. A gift in return." She smiled, and the call ended.
Suddenly, the night sky outside my window erupted in light.
Hundreds of drones formed a twinkling heart, which then morphed into a line of text: 「HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RICHARD」
Tears blurred my vision.
With all the drama today, I'd completely forgotten my own birthday.
But she remembered. It was a little cheesy, but her sincerity was real, and I loved it.
Ava, on the other hand... every year for my birthday, she'd simply write "Happy Birthday" in her elegant script. She never even signed my name.
"My art has collectible value," she would always explain. "If I put your name on it, its value decreases."
This year, she'd just said, "I'm too busy with the wedding. No time."
But this "busy" wedding planning?
I was the one who visited twenty different bridal shops to find her dress.
I was the one who compared over thirty quotes from different venues.
I was the one who stayed up all night handwriting three hundred invitations.
The only thing she participated in was a five-minute fitting for her main gown, and she spent the entire time checking her watch.
The signs were all there. She never loved me.
A sharp pain seized my heart, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. I'd cried enough today. On my birthday, at least, I could afford myself a little dignity.
The buzz of my phone woke me from a deep sleep. I groggily answered it.
Ava's voice, raw with panic, screamed through the speaker. "Richard, get to the hospital right now! Something's happened to Alan!"
I shot up in bed, instantly awake. Were his texts for real?
Without even changing, I bolted out the door in my pajamas and slippers.
When I burst into the hospital room, I found Alan propped up comfortably against the pillows while Ava tenderly peeled an apple for him. They looked like a picture of domestic bliss, while I stood there, one slipper half-off, looking like a complete fool.
The moment she saw me, Ava flew into a rage, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the bedside. "Kneel for my brother!"
I stared at her, utterly bewildered. Before I could process her words, a brutal kick landed on the back of my knee. My kneecap slammed into the hard linoleum floor, a searing pain shooting up my leg, paralyzing me.
"Ava! Are you crazy?" I glared up at her.
Her eyes were burning with a terrifying fury. "He slit his wrist! He almost died! Don't you dare call me crazy, right now I want to kill you!"
Right on cue, Alan began to sob. "Ava, I sent Richard a message to apologize, and he blocked me. He must hate me so much... He never wants to see me again. What's the point of me even living..."
As much as I despised him, I didn't want a death on my conscience. I quickly scanned him. On his wrist was a thin, half-centimeter scratch, already scabbed over with antiseptic.
This was his suicide attempt?
A wave of bleak despair washed over me. I twisted my lips into a grimace. "Ava, if I'd come tomorrow, would the wound have healed completely?"
She exploded. "Richard! How can you be so cruel? If I hadn't found him in time... Do you have any idea what happens when someone loses that much blood?"
Love really is blind. A tiny scratch had sent her into a panic, yet she was completely oblivious to the blood matting the hair on my own forehead.
She must love him to death.
My heart felt like it was sinking, weighed down by a stone. I gritted my teeth and said nothing.
My silence seemed to enrage her further. She shoved the fruit knife at me, her voice dripping with venom.
"Since you think it's no big deal, then give yourself the same cut. See how it feels. You owe my brother that!"
I stared at her in disbelief. This was the woman I had loved unconditionally for five years. In that single moment, my heart turned to ice.
Fine. One cut. Then my debt to her would be paid.
Lowering my eyes to hide the tears, I picked up the knife and drew it lightly across my wrist.
Alan let out a theatrical gasp.
I struggled to my feet and held my arm out for Ava to see. "Is this enough?"
Blood dripped steadily onto the floor.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she shot my arm a look of disgust before turning to comfort the "traumatized" Alan, muttering under her breath.
"Who told you to cut so deep? You're hopelessly stupid."
I laughed without a sound and stumbled toward the door.
Her voice followed me, cold and commanding. "Richard, you stay at your parents' house and think about what you've done! I'll come get you in three days."
I laughed so hard the tears finally fell.
Ava, we are never, ever seeing each other again.

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