Without Our Love, Photographs Mean Nothing Chapter 2

When the image loaded, my fingertips went numb, and my heart dropped into a cold, hollow abyss.

In the photo, Austin, a man who was usually an absolute neat freak, was sitting on a dirty curb, happily eating street food with Mona.

No wonder he had replied instantly at three in the morning. He wasn't asleep; he was out on the town with her.

During his week-long trip, I had tried to text him about the wedding details.

Every single time, he brushed me off, saying he was too busy and telling me to stop suffocating him.

I had offered to fly out to help him shoulder some of his workload.

He’d claimed he didn't want me to exhaust myself, and that the extra travel expenses would be a waste of money.

Too busy? Too expensive?

He was just terrified I’d crash his romantic little bubble with Mona.

The business trip was a lie. His hatred of photos was a lie. His love for me was a lie.

I curled into a ball on the cold floor and wept until my chest ached.

I must have cried myself to sleep because I was startled awake by my phone buzzing at ten the next morning.

It was the confectioner, asking if I approved of the custom wedding favors.

I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, pressed it against my swollen eyes, and texted back: Please cancel the order. The wedding is off.

I sent the same short, cold message to the bridal boutique and the wedding planner.

Then, I texted Paige to ask about the other shoots Austin had booked with her.

She refused to answer, claiming it was "Austin’s private business."

But she did send me a cheeky cash-request meme.

A lifetime of friendship, reduced to a cheap transaction.

I let out a hollow, bitter laugh and locked my screen.

By the time I got home from work, Austin was already there.

He looked up, a faint scowl on his face.

"Fi, I asked you to pick me up from the airport. Why weren't you there?"

I checked my phone. He had sent over a dozen texts while I was working.

He wanted a ride, and he’d demanded I stop by a specific tea shop to get him a highly customized strawberry milk tea with boba, herbal jelly, and vanilla ice cream, no ice.

Austin hated sweet drinks.

"Austin," I said quietly, "can you order a boba for me?"

He looked confused but opened his phone anyway. After scrolling in frustration for a minute, he shoved the device into my hand.

"Just choose what you want and order it yourself."

I shook my head, handing it back.

"Never mind. I lost my appetite."

"Fiona, what is your—"

Austin started to snap, but he froze when he saw my eyes, swollen like bruised plums.

"What happened to your eyes?"

He grabbed an ice pack from the fridge and pressed it to my face, sighing.

"Did you stay up all night stressing over the wedding again? Fi, a wedding is just a formality. You don't need to drive yourself crazy over it."

Looking directly into his lying eyes, I couldn't help but ask,

"Then why are birthdays so important? More important than me?"

Austin had pursued me for two whole years before we started dating. I truly believed he loved me.

So when he said he hated photos and wanted AI portraits, when he brushed me off time and time again, I kept telling myself it was just his personality. That he was just pragmatic.

It was all a lie.

I couldn't help but wonder if those two years of chasing me had been about love at all, or just the thrill of the hunt.

A soft weight brushed against my hands. Austin was handing me something.

His expression turned pleading, trying to placate me.

"What birthday? Fi, what are you talking about? Of course you're my priority. Look, I even brought you a gift."

I had already seen this "gift" on Paige's Instagram.

It was a cheap, scratchy airline blanket given to first-class passengers. Every traveler got one for free.

Outside, the afternoon sun was blindingly bright, and the AC hummed in the background, blowing a chilly breeze through the room.

I managed a faint, empty smile and tossed the blanket onto the sofa.