Part 1One Way

I got together with Adrian when I was eighteen.

At twenty-two, I moved to the bustling city for him.

But all I got in return was him saying, "I never planned on marrying her, you guys are just messing around."

After eight years with no commitment, I gave up.

I was gone for three years.

The day I returned, a friend asked me, "It's been three years. You two must have made up by now, right?"

They all thought I was back to beg for him back.

But what they didn't know was, I was back to get married.

* * *

"You're getting married?"

I was sorting through the guest list. "Yeah," I replied. "The wedding is next week."

My friend was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, then asked, "What about Adrian?"

Hearing his name after three years felt strange, like a ghost from a past life. But he and I had ended things three years ago.

I was the one who broke up with him.

It was his birthday. I had come back early from a business trip to surprise him, but instead, I overheard him talking to his friends.

One of them asked, "You're twenty-six, man. When are you gonna pop the question to Clara?"

Adrian leaned back, a lazy, half-mocking smile on his face. "I never planned on marrying her. Don't start that."

His friend was stunned. "You've been together for years. If you're not marrying her, who are you gonna marry?"

"Like you said," Adrian replied, "we've been together for years. Where's the excitement in that?"

Honestly, in that moment, I couldn't believe my ears. We had just been on the phone half an hour earlier. He had been so sweet, whispering and coaxing me to come back and celebrate a belated birthday with him. But now, I couldn't even picture that tenderness.

The thought of breaking up hit me right then.

That night, I didn't push open the door to confront him. I turned around, went home, and calmly packed my bags.

Adrian came home at two in the morning.

He walked in and stopped short, seeing me with my suitcase. He was only stunned for a second before he rushed forward, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my neck affectionately. "Surprise? I love it."

I pushed him away. "Adrian."

"Hmm?"

"Let's break up."

We had threatened to break up before, but it was always me who caved first. Our mutual friends used to say, "Adrian is an insecure guy. He needs a partner who will never leave him. If you really want to be with him long-term, you have to be more patient with him."

Back then, I really did love him. So I was willing to soothe him, to put his feelings first. From eighteen to twenty-six, I loved him fiercely and without reservation.

And all I got in return was, "I'm not going to marry her."