Part 1Her Other Marriage Certificate

December 23rd. The day my girlfriend, Chloe, and I were supposed to get our marriage license.

I waited at City Hall until the clerks started packing up for the holiday, but she never showed.

Just as I was about to call, a message from her lit up my phone. “Hey honey, something came up. Can we do this another day?”

Something came up?

My eyes fell to the post she’d just made on her private social media account. “A lifetime with you, Mr. Cole.”

The picture was a sweet, close-up shot of Chloe and her high school sweetheart, holding a freshly issued marriage certificate.

My world turned to ash. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry.

I threw the ring in the trash, canceled the wedding venue, and went home to pack, methodically erasing every trace of myself from the apartment we shared.

Later, she called, sobbing and indignant. “You promised you’d love me no matter what I did! Why are you breaking your promise?”

“Leaving without a word like this… does it mean you don’t love me anymore?”

The day I left for good, she chased my car down the street, a frantic bride in a white wedding dress, crying and begging me to marry her.

* * *

The main hall of City Hall was a sea of festive red decorations. Couples were everywhere, clutching their new marriage certificates, hugging, kissing, and snapping photos to announce their new status to the world.

I was lost in a daze, staring at the pictures on my phone, when my own documents—my ID and a photo of Chloe and me—slipped from my numb fingers and scattered on the floor.

I bent to pick them up, but another hand got there first.

A flicker of hope sparked in my chest.

I looked up. It was a stranger, his own new bride smiling at his side. He handed me my things with a friendly grin. “Hey man, you here to tie the knot, too?”

I nodded, a bitter laugh catching in my throat. Chloe was off living her happily ever after with Cole. Why would she be here with me?

The man glanced around. “So… where’s your fiancée? It’s a zoo in here today. You don’t want to lose her. She might get mad and call the whole thing off.”

He and his wife exchanged a look, their happiness a tangible thing.

A pang of nostalgia hit me, sharp and painful. Chloe and I used to be just like that.

At sixteen, Chloe’s skin was so pale it was almost translucent in the sun. When she looked at me, her eyes were filled with stars, and her voice was like a melody.

“Lucas,” she’d said, “when I grow up, can I be your wife?”

It felt like yesterday.

But the image on my phone—the two of them, so blissfully happy—dragged me back to the brutal present. I shoved my phone into my pocket, forcing a grim smile.

“Her? Oh, she’s getting married to someone else.”

Without waiting to see the shock on his face, I turned and walked away, terrified I was about to fall apart.

I collapsed into the driver’s seat of my car. The ceiling was a collage of photos of Chloe and me, and memories washed over me like a tidal wave.

A month ago, at my birthday party, Chloe had appeared in a flowing white wedding dress, a bouquet in her hands, walking towards me through a crowd of our childhood friends.

“Mr. Hayes,” she’d said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m twenty-seven now. Will you… will you finally marry me?”

My eyes burned. I took the flowers from her, dropped to one knee, and pulled out the ring I’d been carrying for years. As I slid it onto her finger, my own voice shook.

“Miss Collins… I… I will.”

The joy of that moment, the culmination of eleven years of love, had been so overwhelming I couldn’t sleep that night. I remembered every anniversary, every birthday, planning for days in advance just to see her happy. I picked her up from work every single day, and we’d go to the supermarket together, choosing groceries, planning our meals. Her colleagues were green with envy.

“Wow, Chloe, your boyfriend is perfect!”

“You must have saved the galaxy in a past life to find a guy that thoughtful.”

Whenever she heard that, she’d blush, and the look she gave me was pure, syrupy sweetness.

“Mr. Hayes,” she’d whispered that night, her lips brushing against mine amidst the cheers of our friends, “here’s to the rest of our lives.”

I thought our eleven-year marathon had finally reached its perfect finish line.

I never imagined it would all turn to smoke.

A profound sadness bloomed in my chest. I had to see her. This had to be some kind of mistake. A lifetime of shared memories couldn’t possibly lose to some ghost from a decade ago.

I pulled up to our apartment and saw the door was ajar. Through the crack, I could see Chloe talking to her best friend, Zoe.

“Zoe,” she said, her voice a strange mix of tears and triumph, “I did it. I married Cole.”

A hammer blow slammed into my chest, stealing my breath. On the drive over, I’d clung to the fantasy that this was all some elaborate, cruel prank.

But it was real. I was the one fooling myself.

Inside, Zoe’s voice was sharp with disbelief. “Chloe, are you insane? Why in God’s name would you marry Cole?”

Chloe’s reply was choked with sobs, yet strangely defiant. “He’s back, Zoe. He has terminal cancer. He only has three months to live. We were in love, back in high school. If my parents hadn’t interfered, I would have been with him all along. Lucas would have never even been in the picture.”

“I lost him once. I can’t lose him again!”

“So, yes, I am perfectly calm. I’m going to have a wedding with him. I’m going to be his wife. Because… I love him!”

It felt like a thousand needles were being driven into my skin. The pain was so intense, so all-encompassing, that my whole body started to shake.

Twenty-seven years of friendship. Eleven years of love.

All of it erased by a fleeting, teenage crush.

“Chloe!” Zoe’s voice was a raw, furious roar. “Even if you wanted to give him some peace, you could have done it secretly! Why did you have to broadcast it to the entire world?”

“Don’t you see what a horrible person you’re being?”

I thought, maybe, Chloe would finally see the enormity of her mistake. That she would break down, consumed by guilt.

But what she said next ripped my heart to shreds.

“Do it secretly? Are you kidding me? That would be an insult to the pure, true love Cole and I share! Our love transcends time and space! The whole world should be moved to tears by our story. What have I done that’s so wrong?”

My fist clenched.

I slammed it into the concrete wall beside me.

Your love is pure and true.

Your grand, tragic romance.

Then what were our eleven years?

What the hell was I?

Zoe stamped her foot in frustration. “You love Cole?! What about Lucas? He’s the one who’s been with you your entire life! You’ve been together for eleven years!”

“How could you do this to him?”

I slowly raised my head, feeling as if I could see Chloe right through the door.

Her voice was full of arrogant certainty. “How is this hurting him? I’m only marrying Cole. It’s not like I’m going to sleep with him or have his children. My body, my heart… they’ll always be Lucas’s. I’m not cheating.”

“Besides, Lucas swore he’d never marry anyone but me. A man can’t go back on his word, can he?”

“So, even though I married Cole, I know he’ll still marry me. If he doesn’t, then he was lying when he said he loved me.”