On Monday I returned to work. I arrived early, carrying a coffee that had gone cold because I had spent most of the drive thinking about whether people could see what had happened on my face. Evan met me near the elevators and said only that he was glad I had come in. We spent the morning reviewing freight projections, and I found comfort in problems that did not change their meaning depending on who described them. The company didn't need to know my personal situation, and I was determined not to bring it into meetings if I could help it.
At lunch I checked the replies from wedding vendors. The venue had received my notice and would calculate any refund or outstanding liability according to our contract. The photographer offered to return a portion of the payment if the date could be rebooked, and the florist said most of the flowers hadn't been ordered yet. Some vendors required both of us to sign an acknowledgment because the reservation listed both names. I made a note that cancellation wasn't as simple as writing one word in an email, but the process had begun and there was no reason to reverse it.
The wedding website was still visible online. I opened it during my lunch break and saw the engagement photograph, the story Lauren had written about our first date, and the countdown to a day that no longer existed. For a moment I couldn't make myself touch anything. The photographs were of two people who had believed in the future, and removing them seemed more final than shutting a door. Eventually I disabled the public page and sent a short notice to the person who managed our guest communications.
A few guests had already purchased plane tickets. I worried about them, especially relatives who had saved to travel, and I asked my mother whether she would help inform that side of the family. She said yes without asking for a full explanation she could pass along. I told her to say the engagement had ended, the wedding was canceled, and that we were sorry for any costs people had incurred. I didn't want guests to discover the news because a rumor made its way across a social media feed.
Lauren's sister called that afternoon. She was polite, although I could hear how confused she was, and she said Lauren had been crying and barely sleeping. She asked whether we could sit down with a counselor or at least talk once more before abandoning the wedding. I told her I had considered counseling earlier and that Lauren and I had reached a point where our responses to conflict were fundamentally different. I didn't expect her sister to agree with me, and I didn't ask her to persuade Lauren of anything.