Chapter 3

I didn’t reply to Naomi’s voice message.

I texted Aaron instead.

Noon tomorrow. Harbor Street Café. We need to talk about the wedding, our things, and how you’re going to stop using my name to explain this.

He replied almost immediately.

Clara, don’t make decisions by yourself. We need to talk this through.

I stared at the word we.

Aaron used to mean him and me when he said it.

Now, I assumed he meant him and Naomi.

I got to the café ten minutes early.

I chose a table by the window. The journal sat in front of me beside a note with three points written on it.

Aaron came in with his suit jacket draped over one arm. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He hadn’t shaved, either.

But when he sat down, the first thing he said was, “Naomi cried all night.”

I pushed my coffee aside.

“Then you should be with her. You shouldn’t have asked to meet me.”

His mouth tightened.

“I know you hate me.”

“You don’t.”

He looked up.

I placed the note between us.

“First, the wedding is canceled. Not postponed. Not something we revisit after everyone has calmed down. You contact your guests today. I’ll contact mine.”

Aaron pressed his fingers to the edge of the table.

“The wedding is seven weeks away. A lot has already been arranged.”

“How far away was it when you and Naomi had been together for six months?”

He didn’t answer.

I went on. “Second, you don’t get to tell anyone I didn’t want children, so you went to Naomi. You can say you cheated on me. Or you can say nothing. But you don’t get to use my words as an excuse anymore.”

“Clara—”

“Third, we separate everything. You take your things out of my apartment. I’ll collect mine from yours. The wedding account, the shared subscriptions, every arrangement with both our names on it. We untangle all of it.”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, his face drawn.

“You’ve already made up your mind.”

“Until last night, I thought I was going to marry you.”

I didn’t cry when I said it.

Aaron looked down at the journal.

“I never planned for this to happen.”

“Then how did it happen?”

The café door opened, and the bell above it rang.

Aaron didn’t answer right away.

He picked up a packet of sugar, then put it back down.

“Six months ago, when you went to your cousin’s wedding, Naomi came with me to look at that apartment.”

I looked at him.

That weekend, I’d gone to Chicago to help my cousin deal with last-minute wedding disasters. Aaron had said he couldn’t come because of work.

Naomi had told me she was home taking care of her sick mother.

“And then?” I asked.

“We had a few drinks.”

“And then?”

He looked up. For the first time, there was something in his face that couldn’t hold itself together.

“Then it happened.”

“One time, and she got pregnant?”

He said nothing.

I understood.

“When did you start seeing each other?”

“After that day.”

“So you didn’t get close because there was a baby.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened.

“I was confused then. You always said we should wait. Wait until the wedding. Wait until later. Wait until we were ready. I started to think you didn’t want that kind of life with me at all.”

I turned the journal toward him and showed him the page he’d gone back to again and again.

“I said I didn’t want to carry that kind of life alone.”

“I know,” he said.

“You knew, and you still told my parents I didn’t want children.”

He didn’t deny it.

That hurt more than an excuse would have.

I gathered my note and started to stand.

Aaron spoke again.

“I’m not going to tell everyone that.”

I stopped.

“What did you say?”

“Naomi is pregnant. The baby’s stability matters most right now. Not letting everyone know our private business.”

“You already let everyone know mine.”

“I didn’t—”

“My father told me last night that I would never change. Those weren’t his words. They were the version of me you gave him.”

Aaron’s face went pale.

He reached for my wrist.

I moved back.

“You can cancel the wedding if you want,” he said. “You can take your things back. But I’m not dragging Naomi and the baby through a public reckoning.”

“You already brought them into this.”

I picked up the journal and left the café.

When I reached the sidewalk, a new email appeared on my phone.

It was from Diane, my college roommate.

Clara, I just got your notice. I hope this time gives you and Aaron a chance to think things through.

Below it was a screenshot.

The subject line read: Wedding Postponement.

The sender name was mine.

And the last line was something I had never written.

Thank you for respecting our privacy during this difficult transition.