Not Your Bride Anymore

Chapter 3

My mother went quiet for a moment, then gave a little huff.

"Then come home and get married, just like you promised. I told you Derek wasn't someone you could count on. Who dates a woman for 7 years without ever bringing up marriage? He's been wasting your youth."

Her voice was cool, but she knew I deserved better, and it hurt her to watch.

I shook my head. I'd been such a fool. Out of sheer stubbornness after our argument, I hadn't gone home in 7 years. Now I could finally go back and spend some time with her.

When I returned to the house, I automatically entered my birthday into the lock. The code was wrong.

I paused, then entered Megan's birthday instead.

I'd almost forgotten. I'd lost the door code on our eighth bet.

I went inside and took one last look at the home I'd lived in for 7 years. Everything, from the decor down to a toothbrush, had been chosen to suit Megan's taste.

I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. There hadn't been a place for me here for a long time.

In the end, 7 years of my life fit into a 20-inch suitcase.

I stopped outside the study and looked at the wooden box on the desk. Derek never let me touch it.

I paused with my hand on the suitcase handle. On an impulse I couldn't explain, I walked over and opened the box.

Inside were ten neatly stacked boxes of shortbread cookies.

I started to shake and had to brace myself against my suitcase to stay upright.

The front door opened. Derek came in with Megan right behind him.

He crouched and helped take her shoes off, as though it were something he did all the time.

Derek had always been obsessive about cleanliness. Once, when I'd sprained my ankle and couldn't put my shoes on, I'd asked him to help. He'd only frowned.

"That's disgusting."

Now I understood. His obsession with cleanliness only applied to me.

He looked up and froze at the sight of the open box. In two strides, he was beside me, gripping my hand.

"Claire, I can explain."

My eyes burned as I looked at him. The hand holding the box shook badly.

"Explain what? How you've been lying to me for 7 years?"

He turned his face away, unable to meet my eyes.

"Claire, Megan's competitive. Losing would really upset her. It's different for you. You still have me."

The absurdity of it left me feeling utterly helpless. I looked at the face I'd loved for 7 years and felt nothing but disgust.

I picked up my suitcase and headed for the door. Megan tearfully blocked my way.

"Claire, don't go. This is all my fault. I'm the one who should leave."

She stumbled to her feet and reached for the door. Before she could open it, Derek rushed over and pulled her tightly into his arms. His eyes were red with anger.

"Claire, if you want to blame someone, blame me! Megan hasn't done anything wrong!" he shouted.

I said nothing. I opened the door and walked out.

As my suitcase passed Derek, he reached out and brushed my clothes. Megan started crying harder in his arms, and he immediately pulled his hand back to wipe away her tears.

How many times had he chosen her over me? I couldn't remember, and I no longer cared.

Through the gap in the door, I watched Megan struggle and cry in his arms.

"Let go of me, Derek! I shouldn't be here. You and Claire are a couple!"

He held her firmly.

"It's just a label."

They looked like two lovebirds the whole world was trying to keep apart.

At some point during all of this, I'd dug my nails into my palm. The pain was sharp and relentless. Slowly, I unclenched my hand and eased my nails out of the bloody marks they'd left.

'Derek, why bother? You can have each other.'