Sing Through the Pain

I thought I had been subtle enough. After all, I didn't confront her about what she'd done.

All I wanted was for her to leave us both some shred of dignity.

I expected her to get angry, maybe feel guilty, or at least just nod and agree.

But instead, her face darkened.

"What's wrong with you? Just because I said a few words to Keith, you threaten to call off the wedding?! You're almost thirty. You're not a kid anymore, so stop acting so childish!"

Childish?

My throat tightened, voice rough as I spoke, "Didn't you and Keith—"

"That was a long time ago!" Nancy cut me off impatiently. "Can you stop bringing up the past?"

I felt a bitter ache inside.

I knew it wasn't right to keep bringing it up. But how was I supposed to hold it in?

Nancy said she hated taking pictures. In five years together, the only photo we had was from a company dinner.

I thought that was just who she was.

But her tablet was filled with hundreds of pictures of her and Keith—holding hands, hugging, kissing.

We had fought about it, hard.

But after we cooled off, she swore up and down that Keith was history, that he was just like a brother to her now.

I had believed her. But how did she repay my trust?

If I hadn't found that abortion notice, I wouldn't have known what she'd done.

I stared at her, steady and silent. After a long pause, I lowered my head and apologized first, as I always had before. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"Well, don't let it happen again."

With that, Nancy went to take a shower.

Then she lay down on the bed, turning her back to me as she drifted off.

But I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

My mind wandered back to the past.

Nancy's parents had died in a plane crash, leaving her to take over the company overnight.

Back then, I was the only one by her side, helping her through the pain of loss and standing with her against every challenge the company threw at us.

She drank so much during business dinners that her stomach bled, and I stayed up all night by her bedside.

When she couldn't sleep, I told her stories to lull her into rest.

She'd buried herself in my arms more than once.

"Gideon, you have to love me forever. You're the only one I have left."

But as the company steadied, everything changed.

Keith came back.

They did almost everything together—eating, shopping, watching movies.

Nancy said that Keith was like a brother, that he was family.

And family always came before me.

She kept warning me to show Keith respect, to treat him like an older brother.

But what kind of older brother would get tangled up with their so-called sister like that?

I stared at the ceiling, sleepless through the night.

After all these years, I couldn't just let Nancy go.

But I wasn't going to marry a woman who didn't love me.

I decided I wasn't going through with the wedding.

That was my choice after a restless night.

But before I could tell her my decision, I fell ill the next morning, my head pounding like it would split apart after a sleepless night.

Nancy looked at my pale face, brows furrowed with irritation.

"You're a grown man. Why are you acting so weak? Anyway, I'm taking Keith home first so you don't infect him. I'll take you to the hospital when I get back."

With that, she grabbed the car keys and left.

As I watched her walk away, my chest tightened with dull pain.

Even though I'd prepared myself for this, I still couldn't accept it.

All these years, there was no way she would just leave me to die, right?

So, I waited silently at home.

I figured that if Nancy showed even a hint of care for me today, I would call off the wedding myself to save the last bit of dignity for her.

But after I waited all day, what greeted me wasn't Nancy, but a post from Keith on social media.

[Thanks for being here with me, babe.]

The photo showed them at a restaurant, where Nancy was feeding him a piece of meat with a soft expression.