There.
Finally.
“Would you have dated him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you have kissed him again?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you have slept with him?”
“Michael.”
“That’s what the break was for.”
“No.”
“Then what was it for?”
Emma began crying so hard she had to stop speaking.
When she finally recovered, she said:
“I needed to know if what I feel for him is real.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
She looked confused.
“For what?”
“For finally saying it.”
She closed her eyes.
“I hate myself.”
“I don’t need you to hate yourself.”
“What do you need?”
I looked at the cancellation forms.
“Distance.”
Panic crossed her face.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t decide this tonight.”
“You already asked me to put the marriage decision on hold tonight.”
“Engagement.”
“Exactly.”
“You were allowed to reconsider marrying me.”
“I’m allowed to respond to what I learned while you were reconsidering.”
Emma shook her head rapidly.
“This is not what I wanted.”
That sentence broke something open in me.
“What did you want?”
She stared.
“Tell me.”
“What did you want?”
“A month where I stayed emotionally available while you tested another man?”
“Then if Alex disappointed you, we put the ring back on and continue ordering centerpieces?”
“No.”
“That is exactly the structure.”
“I didn’t think of it that way.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
She whispered:
“I thought maybe space would show me I was making a mistake.”
I nodded slowly.
“And who was supposed to absorb the cost while you found out?”
Emma had no answer.
My phone rang.
Mom.
I silenced it.
Emma saw.
“Did you tell your parents?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“You already told people?”
“I told my parents the wedding may be canceled.”
“Michael!”
“I also told yours.”
She stared at me in disbelief.
“You called my parents?”
“Yes.”
“Before talking to me?”
“I called them because they have money tied up in the wedding and because I was not going to spend the weekend pretending everything was normal while people kept planning.”
Emma looked horrified.
“What did you tell them?”
“That there is someone else.”
“You had no right.”
I stared at her.
“Your mother is finalizing hotel rooms for our wedding.”
“My father put a deposit on transportation.”
“They deserved to know planning needed to stop.”
“You’re humiliating me.”
“No.”
“I did not send screenshots.”
“I did not call your coworkers.”
“I did not tell friends.”
“I told four parents there will probably not be a wedding.”
Her face crumpled.
“I wasn’t ready.”
“Neither was I.”
Silence.
That was the first moment I saw her understand that discovery had removed her control over the timeline.
She had planned to reveal exactly enough truth to create space.
Now the whole arrangement was moving without her permission.
I stood.
“My bag is already at James’s.”
Emma stared.
“You packed?”
“Yes.”
“So you planned all of this.”
“I prepared.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You planned a three-month relationship with another man while we were engaged.”
“I spent one afternoon preparing for what that meant.”
“Do not make those equal.”
She looked away.
“Are you leaving tonight?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
She gave a broken laugh.
“That’s my line.”
“Apparently.”
I picked up my keys.
Emma stood in front of me.