The Canceled Engagement

The night before we were supposed to sign our marriage license, Gavin Quinton's intern posted a photo on her Instagram story.

It was a shot of their hands intertwined, captioned: Finally found the one I'm spending forever with~

I left a simple comment wishing them a happy life. Seconds later, the post was scrubbed from her profile.

A few minutes later, Gavin called me. I could hear his little intern sobbing in the background as he barked at me for being petty.

He told me to stop acting like a psycho or he'd leave me. Then, both of them changed their profile pictures to that same photo of them holding hands.

If this were the old me, I would have stormed into his office. I would have demanded he fire her and screamed until I got an explanation.

We would have had a massive, messy scene, and he would have ended up loathing me even more.

But this time, I just felt a strange, hollow exhaustion. I was done.

......

I first noticed the weird vibe between Gavin and his intern on my birthday.

To celebrate my birthday and our anniversary, his friends had booked a private room at a high-end steakhouse downtown.

Gavin had spent an entire year chasing me before I finally said yes.

On the night he asked me out, he held a massive bouquet of lilies and asked if I'd be his girl.

I really liked him back then. The patience and tenderness he showed during that year made me fall for him hard.

I genuinely wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. He used to treat me like I was made of glass, his eyes always fixed on me.

Back then, if we went a single day without seeing each other, he'd call me just to hear my voice.

I loved how clingy he was. It made me feel like I was truly, deeply loved.

When I arrived at the restaurant, Gavin wasn't there yet.

I knew his company was going through a busy season, so I didn't mind that he was running late.

"Hey, Lana! Long time no see," one of his friends said as I sat down. "I saw Gavin's posts about your trip to Aspen. How was it?"

My heart skipped a beat. Aspen?

When did we ever go to Aspen? I certainly wasn't there.

Lately, I'd been drowning in work opening my new boutique flower shop.

Since it was a new business, I had to handle every little detail myself.

I used to ask Gavin for his opinion on things.

But he was always so busy that I eventually stopped bothering him.

"When did you see those posts?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

His friend didn't seem to notice my tension.

"Just last week. Gavin and I grabbed drinks, and I asked about you. He said you were feeling burnt out, so you stayed in for a bit."

I looked down at my lap and let out a cold, silent laugh.

Last week, Gavin told me he was out of state on a grueling business trip.

He claimed he'd be too slammed to even text me.

Meanwhile, I had been home alone, working sixteen-hour days to get the shop ready for the grand opening.

"Yeah, I was pretty exhausted," I lied, forcing a smile.

I didn't want to humiliate him in front of his friends. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of a scene.

I would deal with this privately.

Before I could dig for more info, the restaurant doors swung open.

I watched Gavin walk in, accompanied by a young woman I'd never seen before.

I had never seen this girl in my life.

Gavin had never once mentioned her name to me.

Seeing the confusion on my face, Gavin walked over and handed me a small, wrapped jewelry box.

"This is my intern, Cleo. We have some urgent files to go over later, so I had to bring her along," he explained.

Before I could say anything, he nudged me to open the gift.

"I managed to snag a rare pink diamond recently. I thought it would look perfect on you."

Maybe it was just my gut feeling, but I could swear Cleo was looking at me with pure hostility.

I frowned but kept my mouth shut.

"It's beautiful. Thank you," I said flatly.

"Why so formal all of a sudden?" Gavin laughed.

Once he sat down, the table was full. He waved over a server and demanded they squeeze in an extra chair for Cleo.

"Everyone, this is Cleo, the new assistant at the firm," he announced.

I could feel a shift in his tone. He sounded much softer, much gentler, when he spoke to her.

"Mr. Quinton, I really can't drink," Cleo whispered, sounding shy.

They were sitting so close their shoulders were practically touching.

She was physically closer to him than I, his actual girlfriend, was.

"It's fine. You don't have to drink in this kind of setting," he reassured her.

I felt a pang of annoyance. This was my birthday dinner.

Even if it was just a small group of close friends, shouldn't he be focusing on me?

We hadn't seen each other in ages. It was my special day, and I was his partner.

The fact that he was being so cozy with an intern right in front of me was a slap in the face.

One of Gavin's friends seemed to pick up on the awkward tension.

He quickly raised his glass to break the ice.

"Hey, we're all friends here! Let's have a toast to the birthday girl and Gavin."

I forced a polite smile and stood up with my glass.

He was trying to be nice, so I wasn't going to be the one to ruin the mood.

I'm not a big drinker, but I was willing to take a sip for the occasion.

Gavin frowned as if he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent.

Just as he was about to stand up and clink glasses, Cleo spoke up.

"Mr. Quinton has a contract to sign later tonight. He really shouldn't be drinking."

I felt my face heat up as Gavin actually lowered his glass.

I knew for a fact that Gavin had a high tolerance for alcohol.

A single toast wouldn't have affected him at all.

I hadn't even said anything yet, so who did this woman think she was?

Gavin's friend lowered his glass too, looking incredibly awkward.

"Oh, I didn't know. My bad."

"It's no problem at all," Cleo chirped with a sweet smile.

"Tell you what, I'll drink on Mr. Quinton's behalf as an apology to everyone."

I felt a surge of rage. What right did she have to drink for my boyfriend?

"Gavin, it's my birthday. Can't you have just one drink with me?"

I decided to speak up. This was my night.

I wasn't about to let some random girl steal the spotlight.

"Miss Winslow, he really can't. Please, let me take it for him," Cleo said, looking right at me.

My grip tightened on my glass.

She knew my name. She knew exactly who I was, yet she was shielding my man in public.

She wasn't being helpful; she was marking her territory.

"Cleo, if you can't drink, then don't force it," Gavin said, immediately reaching out to grab the glass from her hand.

I was honestly speechless.

"Fine. If nobody's drinking, then let's just forget it," I said, slamming my glass back onto the table.

The joy of the night had vanished completely.

"Lana, don't be so immature. Cleo really can't handle her liquor. Don't make a thing out of it."

Hearing him call me immature sent a shock through my system.

Since when was expecting my boyfriend to toast me on my birthday considered being immature?

And I hadn't even brought up the Aspen trip yet.

Who the hell did he go with if it wasn't me?

"Miss Winslow, we should exchange numbers. Mr. Quinton is so busy lately, you might have trouble reaching him. You can always check in with me."

Cleo chose that exact moment to speak.

I noticed that wherever Cleo was, Gavin's eyes followed.

What the hell was going on?

I stood there, momentarily stunned by her audacity.

"Fine. Let's do that," I said.

I wanted to see exactly what kind of game this Cleo was playing.

The second we connected on social media, she flashed me a look that was nothing short of a challenge.

I kept my face like stone. I wasn't going to let her see me crumble.

Seeing that she couldn't get a rise out of me, Cleo eventually turned her attention back to the table.

For the rest of the dinner, she interacted with Gavin more than I did.

To anyone watching, she looked more like his girlfriend than I did.

The rest of the guys at the table looked like they wanted to crawl under their chairs.

When the dinner finally ended, I expected Gavin to drive me home.

"Lana, take an Uber back. I have some stuff to finish at the office, and it's on the way to Cleo's place, so I'm dropping her off."

I stared at him, my jaw practically on the floor.

I knew perfectly well that our house was in the same direction as his office. Dropping me off would have been zero extra effort.

The absurdity of it almost made me laugh.

"You're going to drop off some random woman and leave your girlfriend standing on the sidewalk? Who is your actual partner here, Gavin?"

The frustration I'd been bottled up all night finally exploded.

Gavin's face darkened with a scowl. "Can you stop being so dramatic? There is nothing going on between me and Cleo. Why do you always assume the worst? I'm just being a decent boss."

His blatant impatience made me flinch.

There was a time when he would have driven across the state just to spend ten minutes with me.

He used to go out of his way even if it was completely inconvenient.

Something was fundamentally broken between us. I took a deep breath to steady my voice.

"Gavin, you haven't been home in days. And today is my birthday."

Gavin's expression softened for a split second, replaced by a flicker of guilt.

"It's okay, Mr. Quinton. You should take Miss Winslow home. I can wait for a cab here," Cleo said softly, playing the martyr.

Gavin looked relieved, then shot me a cold, resentful glance as he got into the driver's seat.

"Just get in. I'll take you home."

I had never seen him look at me with such icy indifference.

The man who used to be so warm and passionate was gone.

He had never even raised his voice at me before. Now, he acted like I was a burden.

I swallowed my pride and got into the car.

The silence during the drive was suffocating.

I was trying to find the right words, trying to figure out where we went wrong.

"Lana, you were really out of line tonight. Thank God Cleo was mature enough to step back, or you would have completely embarrassed me. What is wrong with you lately?"

His words felt like a physical blow to my chest.

He had never spoken to me like that before. Never.

"You honestly think I'm the one being unreasonable?"

"What else would you call it?"

"Then I have nothing left to say to you."

I leaned my head against the window and sighed.

When he pulled up to our house, he didn't even turn off the engine.

"You need to sit and think about your behavior. I have a lot going on, so I won't be coming back for a few days."

It didn't even hurt that much. He hadn't been home in so long that his absence felt normal now.

Whether he stayed or left didn't seem to matter anymore.

The first thing I did when I got inside was jump in the shower to wash off the grime of the night.

My mind kept drifting back to when we first started dating.

Back then, he brought me flowers every single time we met.

He said I deserved to have fresh blooms in my life every day.

He wanted to be the one to give them to me so they would mean something.

When he picked me up in the mornings, he'd always have a homemade breakfast waiting in the car.

He claimed that store-bought food was too greasy and unhealthy. He wanted to personally take care of my health.

Every anniversary, every minor holiday, I was always the first person to get a gift.

In the beginning, he didn't have much money, so he'd make me things by hand.

As he got successful, the gifts turned into expensive jewelry.

But every piece was chosen with so much thought.

But as his company grew, he stopped coming home.

The gifts stopped being unique. They felt like something a secretary had picked out.

The daily flowers disappeared somewhere along the way.

Even breakfast was now just something the housekeeper whipped up.

Anniversaries became rushed dinners where he'd check his watch every five minutes before rushing back to work.

Sometimes, he didn't show up at all.

He had stopped caring a long time ago.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a notification.

I opened it to find a photo from Cleo.

In the picture, Gavin was kneeling on the floor, gently helping her slip into a pair of flat shoes.

My hands started to shake as I stared at the screen.

A sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest.

I used to be the only one who received that kind of tender devotion.

I knew exactly what kind of mindset a man had to be in to kneel before a woman like that.

And I knew exactly why Cleo had sent it to me.

She unsent the message almost immediately, pretending it was a mistake.

But she knew I'd already seen it.

It was a power move, a warning that she was moving in on my life.

My Gavin didn't belong to me anymore.

I'd dealt with girls trying to get close to him since his company took off.

But back then, he had zero tolerance for it. He never let anyone disrespect our relationship.

He used to be so loyal, so beyond reproach.

I never felt an ounce of insecurity because he made me feel so safe.

But that confidence was gone now.

It wasn't just because of how he treated Cleo.

It was because, given the choice between me and her, he had chosen to protect her.

I scrolled through Cleo's Instagram feed.

The top pinned post made my stomach turn.

It was a photo of her and Gavin together.

It wasn't the photo itself that hurtDit was the location. They were at the Grand Canyon.

Since the day we started dating, I had told Gavin that my dream was to go there.

We were broke back then, so we planned to go once we made it.

I'd brought it up dozens of times over the years, but he always shot me down.

He always had the same excuse: too busy with work.

Eventually, I stopped asking.

I never imagined the man I loved would take someone else to the one place I had always dreamed of going.

At that moment, my heart finally shattered into pieces.

The love I had been so proud of turned to dust in my hands.

I tossed and turned in bed, wondering where it all went south.

I kept going back to that photo on Cleo's feed.

I got out of bed, feeling like a ghost, and accidentally knocked over a glass of water on my nightstand.

The sound of it shattering against the floor was deafening.

But in that instant, everything became crystal clear.

Our relationship didn't just fail. Gavin failed.

His heart had wandered to a place I could no longer reach.