While I Saved for Our Wedding, My Fiancé Married Someone Else

###

To save up for our wedding and the down payment on our future house, I started driving for Uber after my day job. I kept it a secret from my boyfriend, wanting to surprise him.

But when I picked up my last passengers tonight, I froze.

In the rearview mirror, my boyfriend of five years was getting into the backseat, his arm wrapped tightly around a young girl.

He looked up, met my eyes, and instantly stiffened. He couldnt say a single word.

The destination for this ride was a luxury hotel downtown.

Yet, just an hour ago, he had sent me a Snapchat saying he had to work overtime tonight and would be sleeping in the company dorms.

As I started the engine, the girl suddenly leaned forward. Her voice was bubbling with a happiness she couldnt hide.

"Hi, driver. Could you please drive a bit more smoothly? Im pregnant. Thank you so much!"

I nodded numbly, my mind going completely blank.

I stared at him through the rearview mirror for a long time. He kept his head lowered, refusing to make eye contact or say a word.

The girl nudged him. "Babe, do you know her?"

"No," I answered before he could.

In the rearview mirror, I saw him let out a visible sigh of relief, though he still didn't dare to look up.

I was already regretting taking this ride.

The girl looked very young. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and her makeup-free face had that natural glow unique to pregnant women.

She leaned against him, her hand resting naturally on his thigh.

The GPS instructed me to take a right turn ahead, and I flicked on the blinker.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

The girl, probably feeling bored, started scrolling through her phone's camera roll, occasionally holding it up to show him.

"Look, babe. This is the ultrasound I took last week. The doctor said we can already hear the heartbeat."

He muttered a weak "Yeah."

I kept my eyes on him through the mirror.

He kept his head down, trying his best to shrink into the seat.

Five years of love and devotion suddenly felt so cheap, completely outweighed by the unborn life in the backseat.

"How long have you two been married?"

The words left my mouth before I could stop myself.

The girl blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly.

"We just got married at City Hall last month. No big ceremony yet, just a small dinner with family."

She sighed, a hint of regret in her voice.

"My husband is always so busy with work. Weve been long-distancehe works here in the city, and I lived back in our hometown upstate. He finally got some time off, so I rushed over to visit him."

Long-distance.

My throat tightened.

His hometown was a four-hour drive away.

Over the past few months, he had told me countless times that he had to go back home to handle family emergencies. I had never once doubted him.

"Driver, your ring is really pretty," the girl suddenly said, leaning closer and pointing at my left hand.

I looked down at the small diamond ring on my ring finger.

He had proposed to me with it last Valentines Day.

I used to be too afraid to wear it, worried Id scratch it. But he had insisted, saying a wedding ring was meant to be worn every day. That was when I started wearing it constantly.

He had bought this ring with his very first project bonus. He told me that although it wasnt big, he would definitely upgrade it to a massive one once he saved enough money.

My mom had insisted on a solid financial foundationa decent wedding budget and a down payment on a house. She said it was about his attitude and security for my future.

To relieve the pressure on him, I drove Uber late into the night and took on freelance video editing gigs on weekends. I managed to save an extra seven hundred dollars every month.

We had planned to get married at the end of this year.

"It looks so much like mine," she said, waving her left hand.

"See? It's the same simple design. My husband picked it. He said classics never go out of style."

In the rearview mirror, his head sank even lower.

"What a coincidence," I replied.

"Youre already wearing the ring," she said with a smile. "When is the big day?"

I paused for a second, then spoke clearly.

"We broke up."

"I just forgot to take the ring off."

###

The girls smile froze on her face.

She looked at me, then at herself in the mirror, probably imagining some tragic love story.

"Oh, Im so sorry. I didnt know..."

"Its fine."

She leaned back into her seat. After a few seconds of silence, she couldn't help but whisper, "Its okay. Youll find someone better. My older sister was with someone for years before they broke up. Now shes married to an amazing guy."

I nodded.

The man in the backseat remained silent, not uttering a single word from beginning to end.

Finally, the car pulled up in front of the most luxurious hotel downtown.

The neon sign flashed brightly in the night.

Once the car stopped, the girl got out and wrapped her arm around his. Together, they walked into the hotel lobby.

She looked up to talk to him, and he nodded, never once turning back to look at my car.

I sat in my car for a long time.

I turned off the AC and rolled down the window. The cool night breeze rushed in, making my eyes sting.

The security guard walked over and tapped on my window, telling me I couldn't park here for long.

I told him I was leaving right away. I started the engine, but I had no idea where to drive.

I looked down at the ring on my finger.

They got married last month.

Which meant, while I was driving Uber to save money, while I was staying up late editing videos to make extra cash, and while my heart was bursting with anticipation for our wedding at the end of the year... he had already signed the papers with someone else. He was already another woman's husband. He was already going to be a father.

And I was still working myself to the bone to ease his financial burden.

I pulled over to the curb, pulled out my phone, and opened our Snapchat chat.

The last message was from him at 6:23 PM: *Working late tonight. Its going to be too late, so Ill just crash in the company dorms. Go to bed early, babe.*

I typed a few words, deleted them, typed again, and deleted them again.

In the end, I only sent three words: *Lets break up.*

Sent.

I slipped the ring off my finger and placed it on the center console.

The top of the screen immediately showed "Ethan is typing..."

I waited for a long time. The status kept flickering, but no message ever came through.

I put the car in drive, ready to leave.

Just as I shifted gears, a familiar figure appeared in my rearview mirror.

He was running toward my car from the hotel lobby, panting heavily as he slapped his hand against my window.

"Open the door! Let me explain!"

His forehead was drenched in sweat, and his hair was a messy nest from the wind.

I had never seen him look so pathetic.

"Open the door!" he pleaded, tapping again.

I unlocked the passenger side.

He pulled the door open and climbed in, breathing heavily. The scent of the hotel lobbys expensive cologne clung to him.

"How did you..."

"Were done," I cut him off. "You saw the message, right?"

He froze, his lips trembling. It took him forever to say, "Its not what you think."

"Then what is it?"

"I..." He wiped his face in frustration. "She was just an accident."

###

I looked at him, waiting to see what kind of lie he would spin next.

"A few months ago, I went back to my hometown. I got too drunk... and I mistook her for you," he explained frantically, his words spilling out of him.

"It was just that one time. Who knew she would get pregnant? Her parents showed up at my family's house, threatening to make a scene at my office if I didnt take responsibility. I had no choice, Chloe. I really had no choice."

I stared at him.

A few months ago.

He did go back to his hometown, claiming his mother was sick.

During that time, he kept saying how busy he was at work. He rarely came home, and whenever I called, he would hang up after just a few hurried words.

"You got married last month."

"You went back home to get married, and then you told me you were traveling for a business trip."

He fell silent.

"Did your parents know?"

He nodded slowly.

"So your entire family kept this from me."

"It wasnt like that. I just... I didnt know how to tell you." He grabbed my hand. His palm was slick with cold sweat. "I really love you, Chloe. Cant you feel it after five years? She was just a mistake. Once the baby is born, well get a divorce. Just wait for me, okay?"

I looked at him, feeling a chill run down my spine.

"You want me to wait for you?"

"Just one year. Two years at most. Once she gives birth, we'll get divorced."

"And then?"

"And then well get married!" he said eagerly. "Well have the wedding exactly as planned. Ill pay for everything, and we'll get the house. We have five years of history, Chloe. Can you really throw all of that away?"

I yanked my hand out of his grip.

"On the day of your wedding, I was out driving Uber to save up for our future."

He froze.

"I drove for three to four hours every single night. I took on freelance editing gigs on weekends just to save an extra few hundred dollars. I thought you were working hard, sleeping in a cramped company dorm, but you were actually cuddling with your pregnant wife."

"Chloe..."

"And now youre asking me to wait? To wait for your divorce, wait for you to sort out your child, and then come back to marry me?"

I didn't wait for his answer. I reached over and pushed open the passenger door. "Get out."

"Chloe, let me finish."

"Finish what? Tell me more about when you got married? How you managed to lie to my face? Or how your parents helped you cover it up?" I looked at him, my voice deadly calm. "Actually, you reminded me of something. Your parents knew. So from the very beginning, your family never saw me as one of their own."

"Chloe, my mom really likes you."

"Likes me? Is that why she let you get married behind my back? Is that why she expects me to be your secret little option on the side?"

He had no answer.

"Get out."

"Chloe..."

"Get out!"

He sat there, stubborn and unmoving.

I got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, and yanked the door wide open. "Get out of my car!"

Only then did he slide out, standing by the curb, looking at me helplessly.

"Chloe, we've been together for five years. Our parents have met. How can you be so heartless to just end it like this?"

###

I didn't answer. I got back in, slammed the door shut, and started the engine.

He tapped frantically on the glass from the outside, his mouth moving, but I couldn't hear a word over the engine's roar.

In the rearview mirror, he chased the car for a few steps before being swallowed by the darkness of the night.

When I got back to my apartment, I stood at the door for a long time, unable to bring myself to go in.

A sliver of warm light peeked through the crack under the doorthe living room light I had forgotten to turn off before leaving.

I pushed the door open.

His slippers were sitting in the entryway. Black ones, bought on a "buy one, get one free" sale. Mine were pink.

His suit, which he had picked up from the dry cleaners last week, was hanging on the coat rack. He had told me he needed it for an important meeting tomorrow.

On the coffee table sat his half-finished can of soda, right next to his gaming controller.

His favorite grey blanket was draped over the sofa. He always said it was the coziest thing to wrap himself in while watching TV.

On the nightstand in the bedroom lay his pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and a mystery novel he was halfway through.

His presence was everywhere.

I sat on the sofa, staring at the floor lamp.

He had picked out that lampshade, saying the warm yellow glow made the place feel like a real home.

My phone buzzed.

It was a Snapchat from him: *She's leaving tomorrow. Once shes gone, Ill come over so we can talk this through.*

I stared at it for a long time.

Then, I clicked on his profile and hit block.

The chat history vanished.

Five years of "good morning" and "good night," five years of "I love you" and "I miss you," five years of daily banterall gone in an instant.

I began to pack.

His clothes, his books, his video games, his skincare products, his toothbrush, his towels.

I shoved everything into two large suitcases.

By the time I was finished, it was 3:00 AM, and the apartment felt half-empty.

The floor lamp was still glowing.

Staring at the pattern on the lampshade, I remembered the day we went to the home decor store. He had told me that when we finally bought our own house, he would put tons of lamps in the living room so we could adjust the brightness at night.

I had smiled and said yes, because I loved warm light.

I stood up and switched the lamp off.

The room plunged into darkness, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the window.

The next day at noon, a loud pounding on the door woke me up.

I didn't even know what time I had finally fallen asleep. My phone had died and shut down overnight.

The pounding started again, louder and more urgent this time.

I looked through the peephole.

It was him.

He was holding a bouquet of red roses wrapped in cheap, tacky paper.

I decided to ignore him and turned to walk back to the bedroom, but the knocking only grew louder.

"Chloe, I know you're in there. Open the door!"

"If you don't open up, I'm not leaving!"

I stood behind the door, refusing to move.

"Mom, you talk to her," his voice called out.

I froze.

I cracked the door open slightly. He was standing there, but right next to him was his mother. His father stood a few paces behind them.

I had met his mother many times.

Whenever I visited them during the holidays, she was always polite. She would give me cards with cash and tell me we should get married early so she could help take care of the kids while she was still young.

When my parents came to the city, our families had dinner together. His mother had held my mom's hand, promising, "Don't you worry, Sarah. Once Chloe marries into our family, I'll treat her like my own daughter."

"Chloe, dear, open the door. Let's have a chat," his mother said.

I opened the door fully.

His mother walked in, scanning the living room. When her eyes landed on the suitcases piled near the sofa, her lips thinned.

"Oh, come on. Is all of this really necessary? Why make such a big scene?"

Ethan held out the flowers. "These are for you."

I didn't take them.

His father stood by the doorway, refusing to step inside, his face completely expressionless.

His mother sat down on the sofa, patting the spot next to her. "Come, Chloe, sit down. Let's talk."

I stood my ground.

"Why are you just standing there? Come, sit."

"If you have something to say, say it."

His mothers smile faltered. She glanced at Ethan, then back at me.

"Chloe, look. We know our family is in the wrong here. We should have told you sooner. But think about ithow could we possibly bring this up? The girl was pregnant, and her family came banging on our door. We couldn't just ignore it, could we?"

I remained silent, listening to her excuses.

"And besides," his mother paused, "you can't put all the blame on him. Think about it. You two have been together for so many years, but your mother's financial demands for the house and the wedding... weren't they a bit too high?"