Stranded by My Fiancé, Free for the First Time

Chapter 3

The car felt so stifling that it was hard to breathe. I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes. The conversation and laughter in front slowly receded, while a memory of an exhibition wall crowded with artwork came sharply into focus.

During my junior year, Vincent sponsored an exhibition for young artists. I checked the list for him, arranged transportation for the paintings, and sprained my wrist while moving them. Even in a brace, I worked through the entire night before the opening.

"Who selected these pieces? What an excellent eye!" a collector said before the exhibition wall.

Daisy tightened her hold on Vincent's arm and smiled sweetly. "Vincent and I always like the same work."

"No wonder. You two work so well together."

Vincent raised his glass with a smile. I stood behind the door, gripping the delivery form and waiting for him to mention me, but he never even looked my way. I looked down, too humiliated to step inside.

In the winter of my senior year, he suddenly decided to travel to Norland to see the northern lights. I contacted guides, prepared warm clothing, checked the weather for two weeks, and even made contingency plans for flight delays. Before they left, he looked at my suitcase and frowned. "There's no room on the private plane. Stay in Ashbourne and wait for me. You hate the cold. You'd only suffer if you came."

I stood outside the apartment building with my suitcase for a long time. That night, Daisy posted an update.

We're on board. Vincent says he finally has someone willing to wait in the snow with him for the northern lights. People who are truly compatible don't ask how hard it will be before they even leave.

Vincent liked the post. I deleted the message asking him to let me know when he landed. My throat tightened with hurt, but I sat down without a word and unpacked the clothes from my suitcase.

Six months ago, I had also painted Vincent's portrait. I carried it into his office and asked, "Could we hang it here?"

He frowned without even taking the painting. "Board members are in and out all the time. It wouldn't be appropriate to hang a portrait my fiancée painted of me."

The portrait remained at the apartment.

At a dinner after our engagement, I was carrying a portrait I had painted for his father. Just as I reached the terrace door, I heard someone laugh. "Vincent, why didn't you bring your fiancée on the last ski trip?"

Vincent replied, "She's timid. If I brought her, everyone would have to accommodate her."

Daisy added, "That's why he took me. We never have to accommodate each other."

Laughter drifted out. I stood there holding the frame for a long time before lowering my eyes and sending a message.

Fiona: The paint is still wet. I'll bring it another day.

His only reply was a single word.

Vincent: Okay.

I typed, "Why did you say that about me?" My finger hovered over Send. After a long moment, I erased the words one by one and left with the portrait still in my arms.

The car jolted, snapping me out of the past. We had finally reached the gas station. I pushed the door open and stepped into the slush. My legs buckled, and I nearly fell to my knees.

Daisy slipped her gloved hand into Vincent's palm. "Does this pair suit me, or did the last pair look better?"

I held on to the car door, unable to straighten against the pain. "I'm going in to buy ibuprofen. Wait for me."

He didn't look back. Only Daisy glanced at me through the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes for an instant. I thought that at least she knew I had gotten out, and that they would wait for me.

The little drugstore across the lot was crowded with skiers. When my turn came, the cashier took one look at my face and asked if I was okay.

"Period cramps. I forgot my medicine."

"Sit down for a minute first."

I sat on a bench with a cup of tea, then took the medicine to the register. When I came outside carrying the paper bag, the parking space was empty.

I walked around the lot searching for them, growing more frantic with every step. The ski shuttles were still there, as were cars with skis strapped to their roofs. Only Vincent's black SUV was gone.

I called him. No answer. The second call also went unanswered. More than 40 minutes had passed since I got out of the car. The wind blew snow from the eaves down the neck of my coat. I backed against the wall and was about to call again when Vincent's name finally appeared on the screen. Relief rushed through me as I answered.

"Fiona, why didn't you get back in the car?"

"I went to buy medicine. I told you when I got out."

"I thought you were asleep in the back."

Then Daisy's voice came over the line. "I thought she was asleep too. Vincent, hurry! The sky is already changing color!"

"How long will it take you to come back?" I asked, keeping my voice level.

There was a pause before Vincent answered, "If we turn around now, it'll take more than an hour. Daisy has been looking forward to painting the sunset the whole way. We're almost at the overlook."

"My stomach still hurts, and it's snowing. Are you really going to make me ride up the mountain alone with a stranger?"

"There are cars at the gas station. Grab a cab or an Uber."

A snowplow drove through the lot, spraying filthy slush over my boots. Looking down at them, I asked one last time, "Vincent, are you sure you won't come back?"

At last, irritation entered his voice. "We didn't leave you on purpose! Fiona, you're an adult. Can't you handle one little thing on your own?"