The day we were supposed to get our marriage license.

My boyfriend turned off the alarm and intentionally drove away, ensuring I’d miss the appointment. By the time I reached the registry office, I was greeted by the sight of his friend Miriam standing beside him, both dressed in matching white shirts, posing for the camera. Their closeness was evident, their smiles bright and carefree. Upon noticing me standing nearby, she had the nerve to blame me.

"It’s your fault for being late! We almost lost our spot!"

"Thankfully Miriam was here to help. We just took a little keepsake photo, you don’t mind, right?"

"Not at all."

I laughed softly as I slipped off my engagement ring and handed it to his so-called friend. The ring, which had always been a bit loose on my fingers, fit hers perfectly. My smile grew.

"Wear the ring for the photo; it feels more genuine that way."

Clayton's expression shifted immediately.

"Adaline, what are you doing?"

"Nothing much. I was up late working last night, feeling a bit worn out, so I'm heading home."

I turned to leave, but Clayton caught my arm suddenly.

"Hold on, it’s almost our turn. Don’t worry, the photo with Miriam is just digital. Only ours will go on the documents."

Miriam approached, her demeanor fake-friendly as she linked her arm with mine, her voice overly sweet.

"Oh, Addie, I’m so sorry."

"I just thought it’d be a shame to end things right before the wedding, so I wanted a photo to remember it by. Had I known it’d cause a misunderstanding, I wouldn’t have come."

"How about this? Once you two get your license, lunch is on me!"

She waved her ring-clad hand teasingly in my face.

I glanced at the two of them holding onto me, their matching shirts, identical rings, and even their unconscious synchronized movements indicating a long-standing familiarity.

"No thanks, you two enjoy yourselves."

I shook them off and left amid the curious stares of the staff.

Miriam pouted charmingly, tugging at Clayton's sleeve.

"Clay, is Addie mad at me? I shouldn’t have come; it’s all my fault."

Clayton’s expression darkened, and he dismissed her concerns.

"Miriam, it’s not your fault. If Adaline can’t appreciate what she has, that’s her problem. Forget her, let’s continue."

After leaving, I hesitated for a moment before setting my phone to do not disturb. Then my stomach growled, so I found a place to eat.

Thinking back over the past five years, all our arguments leading to near breakups were because of Miriam. Barely an hour into our dates, Clayton would invariably be called away by her messages.

So when I saw them posing so affectionately for their photo, it felt like a weight lifted off my chest, and for the first time, I felt a profound sense of relief, a release from a stifling atmosphere.

After getting home, I washed up and fell into a deep sleep.

I slept soundly, with dreams where familiar voices called my name.

The next day, I woke naturally to find Clayton sitting at the table, sipping coffee. As soon as he saw me, he adopted a superior attitude.

"Adaline, what’s up with you? Waking up so late, my suit isn’t ironed, my tie isn’t ready. What am I supposed to wear to work?"

I looked at him perplexed.

"You can handle it yourself, can’t you? I didn’t plan on preparing anything for you."

Clayton was furious.

He slammed his coffee down and hit the table, glaring at me.

"What’s your problem? Is it really worth it over something so trivial from yesterday?"

"I’m not upset at all."

"I know you’re still mad about yesterday, but I only see Miriam as a friend. Of course, I’d help a friend in need. Look, next time we’ll get an afternoon appointment; surely you won’t oversleep then?"

"I’m not angry. If you want to help her, go right ahead. I have no problem with it."

"Could you at least be nicer to Miriam? She..."

"There’s no need to explain further about you and Miriam; I get it. You’re like two peas in a pod. I’ve got things to do, so let’s drop this."

I cut him off, grabbing my makeup bag and heading into the bathroom.

It was the first time I didn't want to hear him defend Miriam, and I faced him with indifference.

Clayton stood there, stunned, not even noticing as coffee stained his sleeve.

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