The Pillow That Ended Our Twelve-Year Engagement Chapter 1

I had managed to score tickets to the World Cup, which was my fiancé's absolute favorite sporting event.

I rushed to his office, eager to surprise him, but as I approached his door, I overheard his close friend trying to reason with him.

"Elena cleared her entire schedule to watch the games with you. She went through absolute hell to get those tickets. It really isn't right for you to take Giselle instead."

Stefan took a slow drag from his cigarette, his tone entirely indifferent as he replied, "Watching the game with Elena is boring. I'm used to having Giselle with me for every World Cup."

Boring.

Used to it.

Those words felt like a dozen sharp slaps across my face, mocking the twelve years I had spent by his side.

In our twelve years together, there had been three World Cups. The first two times, he had gone with Giselle. I had cried, I had fought, and each time he had held me close, whispering, "Giselle and I grew up together, Elly. It's just a habit. She was there before you came along. Please, honey, next time I promise it will be just the two of us."

I believed him.

I waited four long years.

Yet, when the time came, his habits still had no room for me.

I stared down at the pristine tickets in my hand, a quiet laugh escaping my lips. Then, I tore them down the middle and tossed them into the trash can.

Twelve years of running alongside him, only to realize I was nothing but a spectator.

It really was boring.

* * *

When Stefan came home that evening, he was carrying Giselle's fluffy white Persian cat, Honey.

"Elly, do you mind watching Honey for a few weeks?"

He only looked up after he finished speaking, his expression hardening when he saw the open suitcase on the floor.

"Stop packing," he said, his voice flat. "For Giselle's birthday last month, her only wish was for us to watch this World Cup together. I already promised her."

His tone was gentle, but there was no room for discussion. It was a simple notification of a decision already made.

I didn't answer, quietly tucking my birth certificate and social security card into the secure lining of my suitcase. Our parents had sent them from my hometown two weeks ago, intended for our marriage registration next month.

Now, I realized a clean break was far better than a messy divorce.

Without looking at him, I said quietly, "You promised me four years ago that you would take me this time."

"You can't compare the two," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Giselle is a guest. When you make a promise to an outsider, you have to keep it."

I stopped folding my clothes and looked up at him. "Out of the three of us, I am the outsider."

Stefan's jaw tightened. "Are you being petty and jealous again? Please, not this. Giselle and I grew up together. I've told you a thousand times that our friendship is completely innocent. We're getting married next month. Do you really have zero trust in me? You are exhausting me, Elena."

He rubbed his temples, adopting the same weary expression he always wore whenever Giselle’s name came up.

I kept my voice calm and even. "I am exhausted too. If you are used to having her by your side, then go with her. I won't stop you."

Stefan blinked, momentarily taken aback by my lack of an argument. Assuming I had surrendered just like every other time, he let out a long sigh of relief.

"Don't overthink things. I'll bring you back a nice souvenir."

The white cat jumped out of his arms, wandering over to sniff at my suitcase.

"Giselle's family is on vacation, and my parents can't stand cat hair," Stefan explained. "She couldn't find anyone else to watch Honey on such short notice. It's only for a little while."

She takes my fiancé, and I watch her cat. It was almost comical.

Suddenly, Stefan's phone rang. From the sudden softness in his eyes, I knew it was Giselle. He turned and headed toward the study, pausing at the threshold to call back to me.