I Gave Up Everything For Her

In order to marry Layla Weiss, I cut ties with my family. My dad, Dan Cruise, crossed my name out of the family tree right then and there. My mom, Maryam Cruise, slapped me across the face and told me that she no longer considered me her son. I had no regrets. The engagement party was set for the International Trade Center banquet hall. We sent out 200 invitations. I waited for three hours wearing a borrowed suit. She did not show up. I could not reach her by phone, and she did not reply to my texts. I smiled and told the guests that she had to go on a last-minute business trip. After the party ended, I cleaned up the mess all by myself. A trending topic popped up on my phone. [The Weiss Family’s Eldest Granddaughter Gets Married. The Groom Is Her Childhood Sweetheart] In the photo, she was wearing a floor-length gown, arm-in-arm with Alban Carter. They stood outside the city hall with their copies of marriage certificate in hand. The date on the certificate was three days ago. I folded the borrowed suit, packed it into a bag, and dialed a number I had not called in three years. “Mom, can I come home?” Chapter 1 “How dare you even mention home?” My mom, Maryam Cruise’s, voice came through the receiver. It was so hoarse I almost did not recognize it. I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck in my throat. “Your dad had a heart bypass last month and spent twenty days in the ICU.” My head was buzzing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Tell you? You said it yourself. You were determined to marry that Weiss girl and cut all ties with the family.” “Mom, I…” “Don’t call me Mom. You haven’t called me that in three years, so don’t start now.” The call ended. I called again, but the phone was turned off. Crouching outside the International Trade Center banquet hall, I stared at the trending topic. The comments had already surpassed thousands. Someone had screenshotted a post I shared on Stories three hours earlier with an attached caption. [Today, too, I’ll wait for you.] There was a comment below it that had the most likes. [Too bad she wasn’t waiting for you.] The banquet hall manager came running out, clutching the bill. “Mr. Cruise, the final payment is $36,000. If you don’t settle it today, there will be a penalty fee.” “Do you accept bank transfers?” “Sure.” I opened my mobile banking app. My balance was around $36,000. I had saved that up over three years. After making the transfer, my balance dropped to $2.4. The manager glanced at me, probably wanting to say something comforting. But in the end, he just took the bill and walked away. At the suit shop, the clerk took the suit with his head down. “Did you get it dirty?” “No.” “Here’s your deposit back.” “Okay. Thanks.” When I took a cab back to my apartment, the smart lock’s screen lit up. I scanned my fingerprint. Two words popped up. [Not registered.] I tried it three more times, but the result was the same. I texted Layla. [Can’t get in.] She read it. Eight minutes later, she sent me a six-digit code. There was nothing more than that, not even a single word. I entered the code and pushed the door open. The first thing I saw in the entryway was a pair of dark blue men’s slippers. They were not my size. On top of the shoe cabinet sat a bouquet of baby’s breath with a card. [Alban, congratulations on your new home.] [Signed: Layla.] I had lived here for three years. She had never even bought a single bouquet, not even on moving day. On the coffee table was a dark blue mug printed with “Mr. Alban.” A dark gray cardigan was draped over the sofa. It was not mine. The bedroom sheets had been changed to dark gray satin. The all-cotton comforter I bought was tucked away at the very bottom of the closet. My clothes were crammed into a corner. The extra space was filled with a few men’s jackets. The price tags were still on them. The cheapest one was $3,800. I had not bought myself a single piece of clothing costing more than $300 in three years. Stuck to the back of the bedroom door was a sticky note in Layla’s handwriting. [Dylan, why don’t you sleep in the guest room for a few days? Alban just moved in and isn’t used to the place yet. It’ll help him adjust.] I stared at those words and slowly peeled the sticky note off the door. I called Layla. This time, she picked up. The background was noisy. It sounded like a restaurant. “Dylan, it’s not a good time right now.” “Did you and Alban get married?” She was silent for a moment. “I’ll explain later.” “Why were my fingerprints deleted from the system?” “Alban had me reset them. We’ll re-register them tomorrow.” Her tone was as casual as though she were talking about the weather. “200 people watched me wait for three hours. You didn’t even call once.” “Don’t get so worked up. It’s not what you think—” Suddenly, a voice came from the background. It was deep and soft, with a playful, whiny inflection at the end. Chapter 2 “Layla, the food’s getting cold. Come on over already.” She kept her voice low. “I’ve got to go now. We’ll talk later.” There it was again: “We’ll talk later.” It had been three years, and all her promises had been left at “later.” I sat on the bed in the guest room, clutching my phone. Five minutes later, I got a call from an unknown number. “Dylan? It’s me, Alban.” His voice was warm and soft. “Layla told me to tell you that she won’t be coming back tonight. She said not to wait up for her and to get some rest early.” I did not say anything. He paused for a few seconds, then added, “Dylan, Layla says you’re the most understanding person there is. You definitely won’t get upset over something so trivial, will you? “She said you never hold a grudge.” … “Dylan, open the door. I’m here to pick something up.” The next day at noon, Alban was standing at the door. He was wearing a light gray knit sweater. His short hair was neatly styled, and he was holding two cups of coffee. I opened the door. He slipped into the dark blue slippers and walked in. His movements were so practiced that he did not even have to look for the switch before turning on the living room spotlights. That switch was hidden behind a decorative panel in the corner of the wall. It took me a whole week to find it back then. He sank into the sofa and set the coffees down on the table. “I got you one. Less sugar. Layla said you don’t like it too sweet.” I did not take it. “Why are you here? “I needed a change of clothes. It’s been a bit inconvenient staying at a hotel with Layla lately.” He smiled, got up, and walked into the bedroom. Then, he opened the closet. As he passed the nightstand, he casually picked up a photo frame. It was the only photo Layla and I had together. That day, I had begged her for a long time before she reluctantly agreed to take one. She remained expressionless the whole time. Alban stared at the photo for two seconds. Then, he flipped the frame face-down on the dresser. “We probably don’t need this anymore, do we?” I walked over and turned the frame back over. He tilted his head to look at me. His tone carried a hint of cautious probing. “Dylan, don’t you know it?” “Know what?” “Layla said your engagement was just a formality. Her grandma’s health isn’t good, and she’s been pushing for her to get married. So, she just went along with it.” Just went along with it… Three years ago, when I cut ties with my family to marry her, she said, “Dylan, I’m here for you.” She told me to quit my management trainee position at that company in Southshire and come to Kingston Vale to help her start her business. I crumpled up the offer for a $300,000 annual salary and tossed it into the trash. She said we would work hard together. She promised that everything would be ours someday. I had readily said, “Okay.” Then, she told me that we were short on cash for the time being and asked me to cover the company’s operating expenses temporarily. I said, “Okay.” But all those “okays” became “I just went along with it” whenever she told the story. Alban pulled a stack of clothes out of the closet. He spotted my plaid shirt buried at the very bottom. “This shirt’s really old. Why are you still keeping it?” “I bought it in college.” “No wonder.” He put the clothes away and was about to leave when he paused at the door to the guest bedroom. “By the way, you’d better pack up your stuff. Layla said we’re officially moving back next week.” I looked at him. He quickly waved his hands. “I don’t mean to chase you out. I’m just worried our stuff will get mixed up and be hard to sort out. “Layla said you’re really understanding. She said you definitely won’t read too much into it.” As he crouched down to put on his shoes, I noticed that he was wearing a watch on his wrist. That watch used to be in the drawer of my nightstand. It was a birthday gift my mom gave me when I turned eighteen. “Where did you get that watch?” He looked down at it. He said sheepishly, “Layla gave it to me. She said she found it at a flea market. Isn’t it pretty?” She had taken the birthday gift my mom gave me and gave it to someone else. She not only gave it away but also reduced it to something she found at the “flea market.” I stood there, frozen in place. Alban opened the door. Then, he turned back and smiled. “Oh, by the way, Layla’s going to cancel that supplementary card you have. Only one supplementary card can be linked to a primary card, so she’s going to get me one.” “I’ve been the one paying off that bill all along.” “Oh, really? Thank you so much.” He took a couple of steps away with his coffee. Then, he turned back again. “Layla told me to tell you that she remembers everything that’s happened lately. She’ll make it up to you later. “But you’ll have to wait a little while. We still haven’t paid the deposit for our honeymoon hotel." Chapter 3 “Dylan, it’d be better if you don’t go online today.” Aidan Wright, my best friend, sent me a text at 2 a.m., but I did not see it until 7 a.m. I called him. “What’s wrong?” “Your photos have been doxxed online.” I checked social media. The trending headlines were about me. [The Weiss Family’s Engagement Farce: Groom-to-Be Left Alone in the Banquet Hall for Three Hours] The accompanying photo was a candid shot taken by a guest. There I was, sitting all alone at the empty head table in a borrowed suit, smiling and toasting people around me. The comments were all over the place. [Getting engaged in a borrowed suit is way too tacky. How can you even force this kind of engagement?] [Hahaha… Getting stood up in front of 200 people? Yet, he’s still covering it by saying she was on a business trip.] [The winner of the ‘Unluckiest Person of the Year’ award has been announced.] I locked my phone screen. Two minutes later, the phone rang. I picked it up. It was not Layla calling. It was her mother, Molly Weiss. “Dylan, I’d like to discuss something with you.” Her tone was much more polite than usual. It was so polite that it was almost unsettling. “Don’t look at those things online. I’ll find a way to have them taken down.” “They can’t be taken down, Molly.” “Then, let’s handle it another way.” She paused for a moment. “Dylan, I’ll be honest with you. When Alban came back from abroad the year before last, he seemed wary. So, Layla came up with a plan.” “What kind of plan?” “To find someone to go through the motions of an engagement first, just to give Alban a little nudge.” My ears were ringing. “Are you saying the engagement was fake?” “I wouldn’t say it was fake. It was just… a formality.” I looked down at the silver ring on my finger. It had cost $300 and came from a street vendor. I was the one who picked them out and bought a pair. She wore hers for two days before taking it off, but I wore mine for three years. “Molly, I printed 200 invitations and paid the deposit for the banquet hall.” “Layla will pay you back.” “When?” There was a pause of a few seconds on the other end of the line. “When she’s a little better off. Oh, by the way, Dylan, the $200,000 you invested in her company…” “What about it?” “The company’s been tight on cash lately. Could you maybe—” I did not let her finish. I hung up, opened my mobile banking app, and checked the joint savings account I shared with Layla. [Balance: 0.] The last withdrawal was three days ago. It was the day she and Alban got their marriage certificate. She had taken out $120,000. There was a note attached to the transaction. [Honeymoon Fund.] That $120,000 was what I had saved up after six months of freelancing. She said a joint account would be convenient and that once we were married, it would be joint property anyway. I had believed her. My phone vibrated. It was a text from Aidan. [Dylan, there’s something I shouldn’t have kept from you.] He sent me a screenshot of a group chat. The group had a name. [Layla’s Exclusive Planning Team.] Layla had sent a text there the night before the engagement party. [Once tomorrow’s charade is done, it’s all over. Make sure Dylan doesn’t find out.] The replies that followed were unanimous. [Got it.] [Layla, you’re amazing!] [That dunce Dylan actually believed it!] The last text was from Layla herself. A giggling emoji accompanied it. Aidan sent me another text. [Sorry, I only found out yesterday that you were with her. She told everyone you were just helping out temporarily. If you don’t have a place to stay, come over to my place.] I stared at the screenshot for a long time. ‘Dunce…’ I thought. They called me a dunce, and she posted a giggling emoji underneath it. At 9 p.m., Layla finally called. “Dylan, don’t take what my mom said to heart. She’s just not good with words.” “What about those screenshots from the group chat?” There was silence on the other end. “Who showed them to you? It’s just friends messing around.” “Was the giggling emoji just a joke too?” She sighed. She seemed impatient. “Dylan, can’t you just let these things go? I told you I’ll come back and explain everything.” “Haven’t you always said that?” “What exactly do you want?” I clutched my phone and said nothing. She waited a few seconds. Then, her tone softened a little. “Don’t get so worked up. It’s not what you think. “I’ll come back and explain everything in person." Chapter 4 “Have you packed your things yet?” Layla did not show up until three days later. When she pushed open the door, Alban followed right behind her. He slipped into the dark blue slippers, curled up on the sofa, and made himself at home as if this was his house. I stood at the doorway of the guest bedroom, watching them. She glanced at the suitcase in the guest bedroom. “Looks like you’ve made up your mind. I found a studio apartment, fully furnished. I’ll cover the security deposit and the first three months’ rent.” “I put $80,000 into the down payment for this house.” “I’ll pay you back later.” “What about the $120,000 in our joint account?” “Well… Alban was booking a hotel, so I borrowed it.” “What about the $200,000 I put into the company?” “The company is in a tight spot right now. You’ll have to wait a little longer.” I looked at her and realized that she did not even flinch as she said all this. It was so natural and casual for her. Everything was just as it should be. My gaze fell on Alban’s neck. He wore a silver necklace with a small star pendant. That was the birthday gift I had bought her after saving up for two months. She had said the style was too masculine and did not want to wear it. Presently, it was hanging around Alban’s neck. “I bought that necklace.” Alban instinctively touched the pendant and turned to look at Layla. “Layla, didn’t you say you picked this out for me?” She frowned. “It’s just a necklace. Let’s not make a big deal out of it. Dylan, sit down. Let’s talk.” I did not sit down. She sighed. Her tone turned serious. “You’ve sacrificed a lot over the past three years helping me build this business, and I remember all of it. But you can’t force feelings. After Alban came back, I realized I couldn’t let him go.” “So, you got married to him three days before the engagement party.” “Alban suddenly gave in, and the timing was right. I couldn’t back out.” “You could back out of a party with 200 guests, yet you couldn’t make a single phone call?” She looked away and finally admitted it. “I was definitely in the wrong that day.” Alban tugged at the hem of her shirt from beside her. “Layla…” She patted his hand. I knew that gesture all too well. Three years ago, she patted my hand just like that and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” It was exactly the same gesture, but a different person. I looked down and chuckled. “Fine. I’ll pack these things myself. I don’t want anything else.” She looked taken aback. “You… aren’t going to demand an explanation from me?” “What you just said was explanation enough.” I turned and went back to the guest bedroom and closed the door behind me. Through the door, I heard her speaking softly to Alban in the living room. He chuckled. “See, Layla? I told you Dylan wouldn’t give us a hard time.” She said softly, “That’s just the kind of person he is. He doesn’t make a fuss. Don’t worry.” Her words rang in my mind. ‘That’s just the kind of person he is. ‘He doesn’t make a fuss. ‘Don’t worry.’ I crouched down and pulled the suitcase out from under the bed. That suitcase had been with me for three years. I had dragged it all the way from Southshire to Kingston Vale. The paint was chipped off at the corner, and the zipper did not work well. I folded my clothes one by one and put them inside. I placed the plaid shirt on top. I had not brought much with me to begin with, so I was done packing in half an hour. Next, I took off the keys and left them on the shoe cabinet in the entryway. As for the necklace, Alban had taken it with him. I did not go after him to get it back. Perhaps that was the last trace of my existence in this house. I did not look back as I closed the door. I went outside and hailed a cab. Before my phone shut down, I sent one last text. [The keys are on the shoe cabinet. Don’t bother looking for me.] Then, I went to the service center to get a new SIM card. That evening, Layla returned to the apartment. She saw the keys on the shoe cabinet. She pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. It was completely empty inside. She paused for a moment, then dialed my number. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please verify the number before dialing again.”