Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On the way to the City Clerk's office for the twentieth time, Hayden Fletcher hesitated again.

Over the past eight years, this was our twentieth attempt to get a marriage license.

Every time we reached the courthouse steps, he'd find an excuse. He'd say he needed more time to care for his chronically ill childhood best friend, Seraphina Quinn. He just couldn't commit to being my husband yet.

This time, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I finally confronted him.

"Is she going to be sick forever? Are you never going to marry me because of her? What am I to you, Hayden?"

Hayden's face darkened instantly. He started screaming at me right there on the sidewalk.

"I promised I'd take care of her for the rest of her life! Can't you stop being so damn selfish for once?"

"Besides, we've been together for eight years. Does a piece of paper really change anything?"

...

Once again, I was abandoned on the way to the courthouse. I stood there in a daze as strangers blurred past me. I saw happy couples, families with kids, and elderly pairs holding hands.

Their happiness felt like a stinging slap across my face. It was a brutal reminder that he didn't love me. If he did, he wouldn't leave me behind over and over again.

Tears blurred my vision. I tilted my head back, walked to a quiet corner, and just started sobbing.

Eight years. A person doesn't get many eight-year chunks in their life. Yet, all my devotion had been traded for a mountain of lies.

I was wearing my favorite dress, looking like the most pathetic person on the street. No one was more miserable than me in that moment.

But I had endured this humiliation nineteen times before. This was number twenty.

People say third time's the charm, but I had gone way past that. I allowed myself to cry one last time. This would be the final time I let myself be this broken.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

A little girl in a pink tutu walked up to me. She smiled and handed me a piece of butterscotch candy. Through my blurry eyes, I felt like I was transported back to the day I first met Hayden.

Back then, my family was falling apart. My mother was in the ICU, and I was hiding in a hospital corner, crying my eyes out. Hayden appeared and gave me a piece of candy. He told me to keep going, that the path is under my feet no matter how hard it gets.

That candy was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. His comfort meant everything to me. Later, when my life got back on track, I searched everywhere for him.

I truly believed he was my lucky charm. I thought we were soulmates brought together by fate.

Now, looking at the candy in my shaking hand, I took it. When I swallowed it, the taste was bitter. It was so bitter my chest ached.

It turns out he was just a poison pill coated in sugar. I was too stupid to notice it until now.

I forced a smile for the little girl. she waved and ran off, taking a piece of my heart with her.

When I finally pulled myself together to call an Uber, my phone buzzed. Seraphina Quinn had just posted a new update.

She was Hayden's little porcelain doll. Her post was short: "With you here, the pain doesn't feel so bad anymore."

The photo showed Hayden feeding her dinner. He was literally spoon-feeding her.

They looked so much in love. I shut off my phone, my heart heavy, and walked into a nearby dive bar.

I rarely drank over the years. Hayden hated the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. I had spent my life catering to his every whim. He knew how to take care of someone, clearly. It just wasn't me.

I downed shot after shot of cheap bourbon. My stomach burned, but my mind finally went quiet.

I held my phone up. My face was flushed, my eyes were glassy and swollen from crying. I looked like a complete mess.

I didn't care. I raised my glass and snapped a selfie.

"Cheers to my wasted eight years," I captioned it.

As soon as I posted it to my story, comments and messages flooded in.

"Did the courthouse trip fail again?" one friend asked.

"Did that prick dump you on the curb again? Stay there, girl, I'm coming to get you!" another wrote.

Then came the notification from Hayden. It wasn't a check-in. It was an attack.

"What the hell is this? It's the middle of the night and you're not home? What are you doing, acting like a psycho at a bar? Are you just trying to make me look like the bad guy?"

He didn't ask why I was drinking. He didn't tell me to get home safe. He just lashed out at me for "acting crazy."

My heart hit rock bottom. This wasn't the first time he had verbally abused me, but every insult felt like a fresh wound.