Ten Wasted Years
Day one: I canceled the wedding planner we’d booked three years ago but kept putting off.
Day two: I shut off the automatic payments for her mother's medical treatments and turned down her sister's request for cash.
Day three: I accepted my boss’s transfer offer, ready to start a new life in a city down south.
As the plane took off, a strange curiosity hit me.
Without me, her free, round-the-clock caregiver for the last decade…
Without me, her personal ATM, always on call…
How would Dia possibly manage? How would she take care of her paralyzed mother, satisfy her materialistic sister, and dote on that precious junior colleague she adored so much?
1
“Mr. Hayes, as per the contract, canceling the wedding plan will result in a forfeiture of twenty percent of the deposit. If you agree, please sign here.”
The coordinator confirmed with me one last time, then handed over the contract and a pen, guiding me to the signature line. She was young, and I could see the gossip sparkling in her eyes. She looked like she was bursting with questions.
I couldn’t blame her.
A wedding booked three years ago. Two finalized plans, even a rehearsal, all leading to nothing. And now, instead of a wedding, a cancellation. Anyone would be curious.
But they didn't know the whole story.
They didn't know that my journey from eagerly anticipating marrying the woman I'd loved for ten years to deciding to call it all off had taken a single night.
And the thing that finally made up my mind?
A building block set hidden on the top shelf of Dia's bookcase.
During my end-of-the-month cleaning, I accidentally bumped the shelf. The heavy wooden planks and the surprisingly weighty blocks came crashing down, leaving me dizzy and seeing stars. The loud crash brought Dia running.
She burst into the study, but her first instinct wasn't to check if I was okay or help me up. Instead, her eyes fell on the scattered pieces on the floor, and an unusual rage contorted her face.
“Alex Hayes, just because you didn't like your birthday present doesn't give you the right to destroy my things!”
Before I could even explain, she was screaming at me to get out of her house.
I stood outside her door all night, apologizing over and over, until the building's security guard told me I was disturbing the neighbors and made me leave.
I ordered a replacement for the set online and, like so many times before, wrote a thousand-word apology letter to her.
I never got a reply. Instead, I saw her on another man’s social media feed.
Dia’s junior colleague, a guy named Josh, had posted a nine-photo collage of a lively hotpot dinner. Right in the center was a picture that didn't fit: a magnificent, intricate castle made of building blocks.
The caption read: Thanks to my amazing senior, Dia, for staying up all night to build this Hogwarts castle for me! It’s the best publication gift ever. Hot take: Harry Potter is the ultimate childhood memory, haha!
A minute after he posted, Dia’s comment appeared.
Glad you like it.
Josh replied just as quickly.
Thank you so much! I only mentioned it once, I can't believe you remembered. I'm so happy!
Their back-and-forth was just a couple of simple comments, but reading them felt like having lemon juice squeezed into my eyes. The sting was unbearable.
Last month was my thirty-third birthday. I had dropped hints, hoping for a nice watch.
Dia had looked at me with a mix of surprise and scorn. “You’re a grown man trying to act like a trendy young guy. Those boys wear watches to look cool. You’ve been with me for ten years. Who are you trying to impress?”
Her words were brutally honest, and they hurt. But on my birthday, she still gave me a watch. It was a cheap, no-name brand, probably worth a couple hundred bucks at most. But I was happy. I thought it meant she cared.
I never imagined.
Her junior colleague mentions something he likes offhandedly, and she commits it to memory. A fifteen-hundred-dollar building block set? She buys it without a second thought.
That kind of special treatment… I, her actual partner of ten years, had never experienced it.
This decade had been nothing but a dream I'd woven for myself.
Now, it was time to wake up.
2
I had barely left the wedding planner’s office when a message from Dia popped up on my phone.
Wendy’s train gets in at 8:30 tonight. Be there early.
This was the first time she had contacted me since our fight. Normally, seeing this small olive branch, I would have scrambled to take it, then rushed to the station to pick up her sister.
But this time, I just stared at the message for two seconds, then drove away.
When I got back to their apartment that evening, shoes and a suitcase were strewn haphazardly across the floor. Wendy poked her head out of the bathroom and rolled her eyes at me.
“Where the hell have you been, Alex? Do you know how long I waited at the station? I had to take a cab! If anything had happened to me, my sister would have skinned you alive.” She sniffed. “I’m hungry. Order me some takeout. Now.”
I looked at her calmly. My eyes drifted down to her feet, shod in the thousand-dollar sneakers I’d bought her as a college acceptance gift. Her clothes were all brand-name, easily costing hundreds. Her outfit wasn't extravagant, but it was far nicer than anything I usually wore.
I had treated her like my own sister. In return, I never got so much as a kind word. When I bought her things, she’d coo “brother-in-law.” When I didn't, it was a curt “Alex Hayes.”
And I had put up with this for ten years.
Right in front of her, I pulled out my phone and texted Dia.
Your sister says she has no money for food. I’ve let you know. If you don't mind her waiting, she can. You’re in a different time zone, after all.
Wendy’s jaw dropped.
I didn't say another word and went into the master bedroom.
The next morning, I was woken by a series of loud crashes from outside. Wendy had turned the kitchen and living room into a disaster zone. Water was flooding out of the bathroom, making the tiled floor a slippery mess.
When she saw me, she showed no remorse. Instead, she defiantly flicked soap bubbles onto the floor.
I watched her silently. I didn't stop her. Nor did I, like the old me would have, grab a mop and clean up after her. I just went back to my room and packed the rest of my belongings.
It was almost funny. This wasn’t my house. Why should I be the one in a hurry?
Once I was packed, I walked out with my suitcase.
“Where are you going?!” Wendy blocked my path.
“Business trip,” I lied. “Half a month. Just grabbing some things from the office.”
She pursed her lips, crossing her arms with an arrogant air. “Some people go abroad for academic exchanges, true intellectuals. Others are just corporate drones pulling all-nighters. You know what that’s called? A pathetic life.” She held out her hand. “I’m meeting some friends this afternoon. Transfer me some money, or I’ll tell my sister you’re abusing me.”
She was so sure of herself, so certain I was still wrapped around her little finger.
It was laughable. I had been Dia’s doormat for ten years. For her, I’d even been her family’s doormat for ten years.
Now that I was done, they were the ones throwing a fit.
I burst out laughing. I pointed at her, looking her up and down. “I pay for your mother’s medical care. I paid for your sister’s tuition. I’m paying for your college. Your entire family lives off me. Even the clothes on your back, I bought them.”
“Next time you decide to run your mouth, maybe you should consider whether you can afford to pay me back first.”
Wendy’s face turned bright red. She was speechless. She spun around, ran back to her room, and slammed the door.
After settling into my new place, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a payment reminder for Dia’s mother’s medical bills. The hospital informed me the payment was due in five days and reminded me to ensure sufficient funds were in the account.
When Dia and I first got together, I couldn't bear to see her juggling work, school, and caring for her paralyzed mother and young sister. So, I offered to help. I thought if I treated people with sincerity, I would get the same in return. I just never expected to be dealing with a family of vipers.
With that thought, I didn't hesitate.
I cancelled the automatic payment and unlinked my card.
I was done being the fool. Let someone else play that part.
3
Late that night, the international call I was expecting from Dia came through.
The second I answered, her angry voice shot through the phone like a bullet.
“Wendy told me you didn't pick her up! She had to take a cab home by herself, and then you wouldn’t even make her dinner! She wanted to order takeout, and you complained about the cost?”
“Alex Hayes, is this how you treat my sister when I'm not around? If you don't change your attitude, I’m going to have to seriously reconsider our relationship!”
“Okay,” I said.
“When you get back, we’ll meet up and sort things out.”
My unexpectedly calm reaction seemed to throw her off. She was silent for a moment. “Sort what out? Is this about that stupid wedding plan again? You should focus on improving yourself instead of constantly nagging me about getting married. It's so annoying. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. If you want to convince me of anything, we’ll see how you behave.”
Her tone softened, but the dismissiveness was palpable.
She had probably forgotten.
In our first year together, she was the one who swore she would give me the grandest wedding the day she earned her PhD. I waited seven years for that day. When it finally came, I was the one excitedly comparing wedding planning companies.
The first year, I presented her with a carefully selected proposal. She looked at me with a hint of guilt and said her studies were too demanding, she didn't have the energy for a wedding.
The second year, she finally finished the busiest part of her program and even agreed to try on wedding dresses with me. I waited for her for 24 hours in my tuxedo, only to get a text saying she’d overslept.
The third year, I canceled the wedding planner.
I took a deep breath. “Dia, it’s not about the wedding…”
Before I could finish, I heard a boy’s exclamation on her end of the line.
Dia hung up without another word.
I stared at my phone, but I didn't call back.
The day of Dia's return arrived quickly. She texted, telling me to pick her up from the airport. I ignored it. Then she called, saying it was the only day she’d be free. The next day, she had to be back at the lab and would be busy for the foreseeable future.
To avoid any further complications, I went.
Traffic was bad. I didn't get there until eleven at night. The airport was brightly lit. Through the terminal glass, I saw Josh with his forehead resting on Dia’s shoulder, swaying back and forth like a child seeking comfort.
I honked the horn, hard. The two lovebirds jumped apart like startled birds.
Dia saw my face and stormed over, slapping the car window. “I told you to be here at seven! Look at the time!”
I rolled the window down a crack and saw her face, pale from the cold. “There was traffic.”
She was about to launch into another tirade, but I cut her off. “If you don't get in the car, your precious junior is going to freeze to death.”
That stopped her. Forgetting her anger, she quickly opened the back door and ushered Josh in. Then she looked at me, her eyes silently ordering me to get out and help with the luggage.
I ignored her, pretending to be busy texting a colleague.
Inside the car, Josh studied me through the rearview mirror. I met his gaze calmly, my eyes landing on the very familiar scarf wrapped around his neck. It was Dia’s. She wore it all the time in the winter.
Last Christmas, she had finally agreed to see a movie with me. When we came out, I was shivering from the cold. I saw a guy next to us wrap his scarf around his girlfriend, telling her not to take it off. Envious, I nudged Dia, hinting.
She just frowned. “Don't even think about it. I don't like sharing my scarf with people.”
But now, her scarf was wrapped snugly around Josh’s neck.
So, it wasn't that she didn't like sharing. She just didn't like sharing with me.
Josh noticed my stare and gave a sheepish smile. “It was really cold while we were waiting,” he said softly. “Dia let me wear it. Don't get the wrong idea, Alex.”
I smiled back. “It’s just a scarf. But really, Dia, you should know better. It's freezing out. You should have just gotten a cab for him instead of making him wait for me. What’s the point of saving a few bucks on a fare if he gets sick? The doctor’s bills would cost more, right, Josh?”
The smile on Josh's face vanished.
4
The roads were empty this late at night, and I drove fast. As Dia had instructed, I dropped Josh off first.
Soon, it was just the two of us in the car.
I glanced over at her. “Let’s talk.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, her voice laced with irritation. “Does it have to be right now? I just got off a ten-hour flight. Can’t you let me rest?”
Unlike before, I didn't show any sympathy. “No,” I said flatly. “Some things are better sorted out now.”
She scoffed. “What is there to talk about? It’s the same old thing, isn't it? Marriage…”
Her sarcastic remark was cut off by her ringing phone. She answered, and her expression changed instantly.
“Okay, stay put! I’m coming!” She hung up and immediately tried to get out of the car.
“We’re not done here,” I said, stopping her.
She looked at me in disbelief, as if I were some kind of monster. “Josh fell in the bathroom! This is a life-or-death situation, I have to go check on him!”
I let out a breath. “If he fell, he should call a doctor. By the time you get there, if it’s serious, a broken bone or something, do you really think you’ll be more help than a professional…”
“Enough!” she roared. “You’re just jealous, aren’t you? You’re just afraid I’m going to leave you! Fine! You want to hear it? We’re breaking up! I, Dia Vance, am done with you! Is that clear enough?!”
With that, she turned and ran toward the entrance of a nearby apartment complex.
I watched her go, mouthing a single, silent word.
“Yes.”
Perhaps it was a case of misfortune in love, fortune in career. Two days later, my boss called. I was being recommended for a position at a new branch to develop a new market. It was a significant promotion with a substantial pay raise.
I accepted without a second thought and booked a flight for the next day.
That evening, some colleagues threw me a farewell party at a well-known local restaurant. As we walked in, I saw Dia disappearing into a private room nearby. I looked away, treating her like a stranger.
Later, on my way to the restroom, I overheard her voice coming from that same room, loud and clear.
“Marriage? When did I ever say I wanted to get married?”
“I have a successful career and a bright future. Do you really think I’d settle for a man with no looks, no education, and no money?”
Someone else chimed in, stirring the pot. “But Dia, you’ve been with him for ten years. If you break up with him, won't he make a scene?”
Dia was quiet for a moment, then laughed. “That’s easy. I’ll just string him along. He’s already in his thirties, completely wrapped around my finger. I can make him do whatever I want.”
“Like for his birthday this year. He was begging me for a watch. I tore into him, and he didn't dare say a word. But I still got him one. A cheap, twenty-five-dollar knockoff from some sketchy website. And you know what? He treasures it like it's gold. Hahaha.”
The room erupted in laughter.
The fragile peace I had found was shattered. The old wounds were ripped open, and the pain was fresh and raw.
I clenched my fists and walked away.
After the party, I contacted a colleague whose family had a law firm. I handed over ten years’ worth of financial records. The lawyer took one look, raised an eyebrow, and assured me he’d get every penny back.
The next morning, I was on a plane to a new city.
When I landed and turned on my phone, there was a call from Dia. Her voice was more frantic than I had ever heard it.
“Alex, what is wrong with you? You forgot to pay my mother's medical bills! How could you forget something so important? You nearly killed her!”
“And you haven't been to see her at all this week, have you? What kind of son-in-law are you? I'm giving you one more chance. You have three minutes to transfer the money. Otherwise, we are done!”
Listening to her shrill voice, all I wanted to do was laugh.
It was her mother lying in that hospital bed. If she truly cared, she wouldn't need me to remind her. If she were such a dutiful daughter, she would have paid the bill herself long ago.
I flagged down a taxi and took one last look at her name on my screen.
“Then, as you wish. We’re done.”
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