"My life?"
"House. Kids. Savings. Retirement. Everything scheduled."
"You wanted those things too."
"Maybe because I didn't know there were other options."
"Liam showed you?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
At least that part was honest.
I asked the one question that still mattered.
"Are you sorry?"
Sarah looked at me.
I don't know what I expected.
Maybe tears.
Maybe guilt finally breaking through.
Instead she smiled slightly.
"I'm not going to apologize for what I did."
Everything inside me stopped.
She continued.
"It was wrong, technically."
"Technically."
"But I needed it."
I stared.
"It showed me what I was missing."
I don't remember blinking.
"We're on different paths."
Sarah seemed almost relieved now that the words were leaving her.
"You're happy with normal."
"And you're not."
"No."
"You could've told me before cheating."
"I didn't know until Liam."
"That's not an excuse."
"I didn't say it was."
"You literally said you won't apologize."
"Because I'm not going to pretend I regret discovering what I need."
That sentence ended us.
Not the cheating.
Not Liam.
That sentence.
Sarah stood.
"Please don't turn this into some dramatic thing."
I looked at her.
"Our wedding is six months away."
"I know."
"My family has paid deposits."
"I know."
"We sent save-the-dates."
"I know."
"Your mother has spent months planning."
Sarah sighed.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"What?"
"Everything is logistics with you."
I almost laughed.
"What do you want me to talk about? Your spiritual discovery through sleeping with your boss?"
Her face hardened.
"See? You're being cruel."
That was so absurd I couldn't respond.
Sarah looked toward the kitchen.
Her mother was coming back.
"Can we discuss this later?"
I looked at her.
"No."
She frowned.
"No?"
"There is no later."
"Alex."
I removed the engagement binder I'd been reviewing with Diane earlier.
It sat on a side table.
I opened it.
Several receipts inside belonged to me.
I took them.
Then I removed the key to the apartment that Sarah's parents kept for emergencies and placed it on the table.
"What are you doing?"
"Leaving."
"Don't be ridiculous."
I looked at Sarah one last time.
"I'm not making a scene."
That shut her up.
It was exactly what she'd asked for.
No shouting.
No family confrontation.
No dramatic accusations.
I simply walked out.
The front door closed behind me.
The walk to my car felt longer than any walk I'd ever taken.
My hands shook when I unlocked it.
I sat behind the steering wheel.
For several minutes, I didn't start the engine.
I expected tears.
Nothing came.
I expected rage.
Nothing.
Only a strange emptiness.
Five years of love didn't disappear instantly.
But the future did.
That was what shocked me.
Ten minutes earlier, my future contained Sarah.
Wedding.
Honeymoon.
House.
Children.
Now those images were gone.
Not delayed.
Gone.
I drove home.
Sarah texted twice.
Where did you go?