Chapter 3

3.

I saw my friend's brow furrow, so I quickly covered for him. "It'll probably be the end of the year. Planning a wedding is a lot of work."

To save my face, Merrick stayed quiet and didn't argue further.

But the moment we got home, he exploded.

"Maren! Why are you pushing me?! I'm only twenty-five!"

So what?

I looked at him, feeling nothing but a cold sense of irony.

We had been together for three years. In the beginning, he used to cling to my arm, talking about how he couldn't wait to marry me.

Even his birthday wishes for the past two years were about us getting married.

Had he forgotten all that in just twelve months?

That argument ended with no resolution.

It was just him venting his frustrations while I stood there, exhausted.

Looking at his stubborn face, I didn't have the energy to explain that I wasn't the one doing the pushing.

Merrick slammed the door and didn't come back that night.

I suspect that was the night Yara reached out to him.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have told me the next day that he was attending a series of bachelor parties.

Even tonight, it was the same excuse.

Yara was rushing him on the other end, and before I could say another word, Merrick hung up.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that a text arrived.

"Babe, I love you the most. I'm coming home tomorrow night."

I once read a quote online.

When a man who stayed out all night suddenly sends a sweet text in the middle of the night, it means the woman next to him is finally done with him.

Sure enough, another number sent me a photo.

In the picture, Merrick's cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were glazed with lust.

"I should thank you for taking such good care of his body for me."

The constant provocations were starting to seem pathetic.

I locked my phone and didn't reply to Merrick.

There were less than six months until the wedding date I had set. If I didn't take a stand, he would spend the entire time at these so-called parties.

He was acting out to satisfy his ego and show his resentment toward me.

After three years, he thought I was incapable of leaving him.

He was wrong.

I have always been a realist.

Nobody is indispensable.

Marriage is a choice. I chose him because he was easy on the eyes and stayed close.

If he was obedient, I spoiled him. If he cheated, I replaced him.

I just needed someone clean, loyal, and agreeable. It was that simple.

Merrick didn't pester me for a reply like he used to.

I checked the time. It was 3 AM.

I picked up my phone and sent a final message. "When I said you don't have to come back, I meant we're over."

Relationships need a proper ending.

I was the one who started this, so I would be the one to end it.

I had given him plenty of chances, but he threw them away.

I felt I had been more than fair.

My grandmother's health was failing, and I had to get married according to the plan.

If he couldn't do the job, someone else would.

I sent a message to a group chat, asking my friends to introduce me to some new candidates.

Just then, there was a knock at my door.

The steady, rhythmic sound was startling in the silence of the night.

I got up and opened the door. A young man stood there, looking nervous and small.

He was holding a cake box. When he saw me, a bright smile broke across his face.

"Maren."

His voice trembled, but his tone was firm.

Before I could speak, he looked me in the eye.

"I'm here to steal my brother's girl."