I Saw the Name in My Fiance’s Heart So I Walked Away Chapter 02
Derek’s hand stopped on the door handle. He turned back, brows pulling together.
“Look, you feel like crap tonight. I get it. But don’t throw the breakup word around like that.”
“Riley’s still waiting. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
I lay there wide awake for what felt like forever, my stomach still churning. Then the meds finally kicked in, and I crashed.
The next morning, I checked my phone. No missed calls from Derek. But Riley had posted on Instagram.
The photo was taken at the coffee shop below her office building. Derek sat beside her, blowing gently on her coffee to cool it down.
The caption read: [Up till 3 a.m. getting every last detail wrapped. This guy? Somehow even more on top of it than I am. He definitely earned a reward.]
Someone in the comments teased: [Bro is way too attentive. Riley, if you ever marry him, you’re gonna be one lucky girl.]
Riley replied: [Cut it out. That’s Maya’s fiancé. He’s helped me with my presentation stuff before–he knows I’m a total scatterbrain, so I called him in as backup.]
I stared at those words, my throat so tight it hurt.
In seven years, Derek always said he didn’t understand my work. Whenever I asked him to glance at my performance review, he pushed it off.
Somewhere I wasn’t looking, he’d already helped Riley polish her materials more than once.
I typed a comment right under that thread: [If he cares
about you that much, take him. I don’t want him anymore anyway.]
Seconds later, Riley’s call flooded my screen. I didn’t pick up. I powered the phone off and dragged my suitcase out of the closet.
I was halfway through packing when the old ipad on the nightstand lit up. It was the one Derek and I used for movie nights. He’d synced his messages and cloud photos onto it just so he wouldn’t have to switch accounts.
A photo memory slid onto the screen. One week ago.
Crescent Dunes.
My hands went still mid–air. Crescent Dunes. That was our pre–wedding trip. The one I’d planned.
I spent two full days researching, building the itinerary, marking every spot where the light would hit just right for photos that looked like engagement shoots.
Two weeks ago, Derek suddenly said a work trip came up.
The pre–wedding trip had to be pushed. I said okay.
Now the photos kept coming, one after another. Riley, sitting inside that tiny brisket shop on Old Main Street, a loaded barbecue brisket sandwich steaming on the table in front of her.
That tiny hole–in–the–wall was stop number one on my trip. I’d starred it in red.
Next photo: she stood on the leeward side of the dunes, Derek’s jacket draped over her shoulders. In my notes, I’d written that the wind died down there in the evening and the light turned soft as butter.
I scrolled further. Campfire sing–along at Crescent Dunes. The glow fell across the water, Riley laughing and waving a glow stick while Derek stood behind her, blocking the wind.
The whole desert was lit up, but his eyes only stayed on her.
I stared at those photos, my stomach flipping violently. Every bit of hope I’d poured into that trip was now being fed back to me in the ugliest way possible.
I finished packing, dragged my suitcase into the elevator, and turned my phone back on. I booked the next flight to Crescent Dunes.
The payment went through. Derek’s call came through right after.
His voice was strained over the noise in the background. “Maya, something happened to Riley.”