Chapter 7
I couldn’t help but laugh when Oliver insisted on getting the marriage license. first, the seriousness in his gaze both endearing and amusing.
“Really? You want to get the license even before the proposal?”
Oliver held my hand, his tone calm yet. unyielding. “It’ll put my mind at ease, Emily.” There was a vulnerability behind his words, a quiet promise that, after years of uncertainty, he would ensure this future.
for us was secured.
By that afternoon, Oliver had taken care of everything–he’d set the date, chosen the venue and even picked out the day for a proposal. I watched him as he went
through a list on his phone, making calls,
arranging each detail with quiet
confidence. The look on his face was one of pure focus and intent and my heart
warmed. I remembered an old saying:
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“Those who love you will take care of everything for you. Those who don’t will only ever make excuses.”
When the month had passed, it was both my birthday and the day Oliver had chosen for the proposal. He’d planned everything down to the smallest detail–a candle–lit dinner, soft music filling the room and a pathway of rose petals leading to where he stood, ring in hand. As he knelt down, his eyes glistened with excitement and I could feel the sincerity in his voice when he said, “Emily, will you marry me?”
Just then, my phone buzzed on the table, disrupting the moment. I almost ignored it, but the number was unfamiliar and something in me couldn’t resist picking up. To my surprise, it was Leon on the other end. His voice wasn’t the brash, confident tone I knew so well; instead, it sounded soft, almost pleading.
“Emily, why haven’t we gotten married yet? Weren’t we supposed to? I… I thought you’d
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be waiting…”
The irony hit me hard. Here I was, with Oliver’s hopeful face looking up at me, a diamond ring glinting in his hand, while Leon’s voice droned on, laden with entitlement.
I took a deep breath, meeting Oliver’s patient gaze. “I’m preparing for marriage, Leon,” I replied, my voice cold. “Just not with you.” I hung up, letting the finality of those words sink in.
I turned back to Oliver, whose hand was still extended, his face glowing with love and hope. “Yes, Oliver. I do.”
Oliver’s face broke into a radiant smile and in one swift motion, he swept me into his arms, spinning me around as if we were the only two people in the world. He hugged me tightly, his whisper tickling my ear, “Emily, I’ve wanted this since we were kids. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”
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After the proposal, he turned down the celebratory drinks his friends had suggested, opting instead to take me home. Once inside, with a slight tipsiness in his step, Oliver became a nostalgic storyteller, recounting the days of our childhood, hist voice soft and brimming with fondness.
I laughed as he shared embarrassing memories and stories and he chuckled too, reaching for my hand, his fingers brushing against mine. Suddenly, he grew quiet, his gaze turning intense. He leaned closer, his lips meeting mine in a tender, lingering kiss that gradually deepened, the passion igniting between us. His breath grew heavier, his hands firm yet gentle as they settled around my waist.
“Wow,” I murmured, teasingly pulling back, “who would’ve thought? Even the little snotty kid knows how to kiss now.”
Oliver’s eyes sparkled, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. Without hesitation, he scooped me up, his arm strong around
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my waist, carrying me towards the bedroom. But just as we reached the
hallway, the loud, insistent chime of the doorbell shattered the moment. Oliver sighed, visibly annoyed, his brow furrowing as he set me down and went to
answer it.
When he opened the door, there stood Leon, his face flushed with a mixture of frustration and desperation. The tension in the air was palpable and I felt my stomach tighten as his eyes met mine.
“Emily.” he started, his voice loud and accusatory, “wasn’t it agreed that we would get married? Seven years, you’ve been begging, planning, pushing me every day- why haven’t we done it yet? Tell me, why haven’t we done it?”
The entitlement, the arrogance, it was all so familiar. And yet, standing here, with Oliver’s warmth still lingering in my arms, I felt only disgust. I walked over to the cabinet, grabbed the marriage license I’d
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signed with Oliver and thrust it into Leon’s hands.
“We did get married, Leon. Just not with you.”
Leon’s face fell as he looked down at the document, his eyes darting over every detail, disbelief etched into every line of his face. He turned it over, inspecting the seal and then the photo of Oliver and me, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked back up.
“Emily,” he scoffed, a bitter edge in hist tone, “you really expect me to believe this? You know, they sell these kinds of things on the streets for a few bucks. You can’t be serious. You’ll only marry me in this lifetime, Emily. Come on, stop this nonsense and let’s go home.”
His audacity took my breath away and I stared at him, feeling a sudden surge of pity and revulsion. I couldn’t believe I had
ever loved this man. With a calmness I
hadn’t felt in years, I pulled the license
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from his hand.
“Leon,” I said, my voice steady, “do you know how disgusting that sounds? Once, I loved you. You were my fiancé, someone I would have done anything for. But now? I don’t love you anymore. To me, you’re nothing but a bad memory.”
It was the first time I’d ever spoken to Leon with such blunt honesty. His expression twisted in anger, his lips forming a thin line as he struggled to mask his shock. But he quickly recovered, stepping forward as if to reach for my hand, his voice slipping into a whiny tone.
“Emily, I’m sorry. I know I made mistakes, but men… they’re like kids, you know? They make mistakes. But we’ve been
together for so long. Don’t let something so trivial end us. Look, I’ve booked tickets for tomorrow. We’ll go see my mom, talk things over. Let’s go, please?”
