The Past Is in the Past

That night, I saw Zeke's update on social media. It was a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, with the caption, "Finally married the love of my life."

In the comments, his friends all assumed it was me and kept tagging me.

"Congratulations! You finally married Heidi! When's the wedding?"

"Man, you're lucky to have married our campus belle!"

"Where's Heidi? Why isn't she saying anything?"

…

Zeke and I had been together for eight years, from college until now. All of his friends knew me. Even I felt dazed when I saw that post, let alone his friends.

However, it wasn't me. It was never me.

I clicked into the comments, ready to explain, but Zeke called me before I could type anything.

The moment I answered, he lashed out at me.

"Heidi, you're disgusting! You deliberately told my friends to comment like that just to make Brooke feel bad, didn't you?

"Listen up. Brooke is crying now. You'd better post on your feed and clarify that it wasn't you. And say that all these years, you were the one interfering in my relationship with Brooke. Tell them you're the other woman!"

My boyfriend had just publicly announced his love for another woman, yet he was demanding that I, his actual girlfriend, clear things up for him. He was even willing to brand me as the homewrecker—all for her.

A chill immediately spread through me, numbing every inch of my body.

So, eight years of my devotion meant less than a few tears from Brooke? It wasn't my fault. So, why was I the one who had to take the blame?

Just because I loved him, did that mean I deserved to have my dignity trampled like this?

He never considered my feelings. Not once did he stop to think about what kind of backlash I would face if I made that statement.

From beginning to end, the only person he cared about was Brooke.

I had once loved him so much that nothing else mattered. But now, I refused to keep on holding back.

When I stayed silent, he pressed on, "There are only two ways to solve this. Either you post an apology to Brooke, or we don't get married."

Whenever we fought in the past, he had always used this threat to force me into submission. I used to be so afraid of losing him that I gave in every time.

But all that ever did was make him push his limits further. People online always said that if you didn't love yourself, others would trample all over you.

Zeke was the perfect embodiment of that truth.

"Do whatever you want," I said and hung up.

He had never intended to marry me—he had only used it as a leash to keep me tied to him.

After I ended the call, Zeke flew into a rage, bombarding me with hateful messages. His words were vicious. It was as if we had never loved each other at all.

I simply blocked him before I packed my things and left them with a friend for safekeeping.

Then, I went to my company and resigned.

Hampsville was Zeke's hometown. After graduating from university, I had followed him here from Jacobsville, thinking it would be the start of my happy life.

Hampsville was a beautiful place, but I no longer had plans to return. After settling everything, I met up with a few friends for a farewell dinner.

When we finished eating, they went to the restroom. I waited outside, only to unexpectedly run into Zeke, who was also waiting for someone.

At that moment, he was holding Brooke's coat.