My Fiancé Swapped My Wedding for His Best Friend

"They all look great. Just pick one. It's not like you can see the details clearly anyway." He hurried to swipe his card. The receipt showed it cost exactly three hundred dollars. So, he was capable of planning grand, thoughtful surprises. He just didn't want to waste them on me. On my drive home that day, I bit my lip until it bled, but the tears still spilled over. Five years. For five whole years, I was stupid enough to think he truly understood me. When I first told him I wanted a wedding in the snowy mountains, he had smiled, ruffled my hair, and said, "Whatever you want, babe." At that moment, I was so touched. I thought he remembered. I thought he cared. I thought he remembered that the mountains were where we first met. He had forgotten how I had scraped myself bloody trying to pull him up from a ledge, how I had held his hand in a freezing blizzard and whispered, "Don't be scared, I've got you." But he didn't remember. Or rather, he just didn't care. I remembered my doctor's warning: heavy emotional stress would ruin my optic nerve recovery. I forced myself to look up, trying to swallow my tears, but my throat ached with a suffocating tightness. Julian called me later. The background noise was deafening, the bass of the music shaking the speaker. "Clara, Carter and the guys are throwing me a bachelor party tonight. I'm not coming home." I paused for two seconds. "Okay." This "bachelor party" had already lasted three days. At 1:00 AM, unable to sleep, I opened Snapchat. Carter had posted a story with the caption: My brother's last night of freedom! In the center of the screen was a photo of Chloe, her cheeks flushed, drunk and clinging tightly to Julian's chest. Julian's hand was resting casually on her waist. Underneath the post, several of their friends had commented: "They look like a power couple. Honestly, what a waste." "They're childhood sweethearts, you guys. Stop stirring the pot." "@Julian Watch yourself, man. Don't make Clara mad!" Julian had replied directly under that comment: "Clara won't care. If she wants to pick a fight over this, then maybe we shouldn't get married at all." I double-tapped the post to leave a like, turned off my phone, and went to sleep. He was so sure I would just take it. Just like I took him changing the venue, just like I took him spending seventy thousand dollars on another woman's dress, just like I took every single "she's just a friend" excuse. But this time, I was done. The next day, I went to the hospital for my follow-up exam alone. The doctor frowned when he saw me. "I told you last time, your vision is highly unstable. You need someone to accompany you." I offered a polite smile. "I can handle it on my own." As I left the clinic, it started pouring rain. Across the street, inside a cozy café, I spotted two familiar figures. Julian was holding up his phone, and Chloe was leaning against his shoulder, flashing a peace sign as they took a cozy selfie. Clung to Chloe's shoulder was a brand-new designer bag—the very one Julian had claimed last week was "for a client." I let out a self-deprecating laugh, pulled up my hood, and walked home through the freezing rain. When Julian finally came home, I was just changing out of my soaked clothes. He blinked in surprise. "Why are you so wet?" "I had my hospital appointment." Julian froze. "That was today?" I let out a soft, dry laugh. "Yeah. I reminded you three times." Julian ran a hand through his hair, looking annoyed. "I've been crazy busy lately. It slipped my mind. Besides, your vision is mostly back. Missing one appointment isn't going to kill you." I stared at him quietly. "The doctor said my optic nerve is still degenerating." Julian choked on his words. He was silent for a moment before his face hardened with irritation. "Are you seriously trying to guilt-trip me again? Are you going to bring up the fact that you got hurt for me?" Ah. So that was it. In his eyes, my permanent medical condition was just a tool I used to demand attention. Seeing my silence, Julian's annoyance flared into anger. "Don't give me that silent treatment! I forgot one time. Why do you always have to make a federal case out of everything?"

I looked at his collar and spoke softly. "You have blueberry jam on your shirt." Julian's hand flew to his collar, and he stiffened. "You..." "Chloe's bag is really nice, by the way," I added casually. Julian's face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. He pointed a finger at me, raising his voice. "Were you stalking me?! Seriously, Clara? She was having a bad day and just needed to vent!" "You know what her family situation is like. I'm all she has!" "Can you just be a little more open-minded? This constant jealousy is getting exhausting!" I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "How ironic... because during my doctor's appointment today, I was the only one I had, too." It was as if my words had pierced a nerve. Julian stammered, looking defensive. "That's different... you have people who care about you..." Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Chloe again. Julian answered immediately. Chloe's sobbing voice filled the quiet room. "Julian... I fell down the stairs. It hurts so bad..." "Don't panic. I'm on my way right now." He hung up, grabbed his jacket, and headed straight for the door. Right before he left, he paused and looked back at me. "You need to cool your head and think about your attitude. Tomorrow I'll take you to the bakery to choose the wedding favors." "And stop stalking me. You're making yourself look pathetic." The front door slammed shut. But his words kept ringing in my ears. Pathetic? He was right. I was pathetic. I was only surprised it had taken me this long to finally see it. I guess I really had gone blind a long time ago. The next day, the drive to the bakery was suffocatingly quiet. I put in my AirPods, closed my eyes, and ignored him. Julian kept tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly anxious. "The weather lately is perfect for a beach trip..." I could feel his eyes drifting toward me. When I didn't respond, he cleared his throat and raised his voice. "I heard the Malibu Ocean Resort is super popular right now. A ton of celebrities have had their weddings there." My eyes remained closed. I just let out a soft hum. Julian frowned, his tone turning sharp. "Clara, are you even listening to me?" I opened my eyes slowly. "I am. So what?" Julian choked on his words, looking lost. "...Nothing. Just making conversation." The cool breeze drifted in through the window, clearing my head. "Julian," I turned my head to look at him. "Is there anything about the wedding you want to tell me?" This was the first time I had asked him directly. It would also be the last. He avoided my gaze, letting out a nervous laugh. "Everything is in your hands, babe. I trust your judgment." I lowered my eyes, the last shred of my hope dying. He was still playing games. Even now, if he had just been honest with me, I might have... No, I wouldn't have. I clenched my fists. Trust was such an easy thing for him to trample on. Julian let out a dry laugh, his heart pounding with unease. She definitely knows, he probably thought. She's just sulking. I'll make it up to her later. When we walked into the bakery, I saw the custom cookies I had ordered. They were beautifully crafted in the shape of snowy mountains. Just as I was about to taste one, a familiar, high-pitched voice came from behind us. "Julian? Did you come to buy me those cinnamon rolls?" My chest tightened. Why was she always here? Chloe looked at me, covering her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh my gosh, Clara! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there..." "Wait, are you guys picking out wedding favors? This place has the best cinnamon rolls! Julian brings me here all the time!" My fingers curled tightly. Julian had brought her here countless times, while I only found out about this place from my best friend, Becca.

Chloe picked up a new pastry from the display. "Clara, you should try this one! It's perfect for a beach vibe, especially paired with champagne!" I took a step back. "No, thank you. I've already made my choice. Enjoy your dessert." Chloe blinked, her face instantly melting into a look of hurt innocence. "Are you... mad at me? I-I should just leave." Julian immediately grabbed Chloe's wrist. "Clara didn't mean it like that. You don't have to leave." He turned to me, his eyes hard. "Clara, Chloe is going to be your maid of honor. Don't be so harsh. You're scaring her." I froze. When had this been decided? Wasn't the maid of honor supposed to be my choice? But then I mocked myself. He could change the entire wedding venue without telling me. Why would he need my permission for a bridesmaid? I looked at them blankly. "This is just how I am. If you don't like it, don't look." Both of them stared at me, clearly shocked by my coldness. Chloe's eyes brimmed with tears. "Never mind. I should go. I don't want to ruin your day." But Julian didn't let go of her hand. Instead, his fingers slid down, interlocking with hers. "Clara, you're about to get married. Why are you acting so childish?" "Ever since we set the date, you've been throwing tantrums left and right. Is this fun for you?" Chloe pulled at his arm, whispering, "Julian, don't..." but she only leaned closer to his shoulder. Julian was practically shaking with anger. "No, Chloe! I'm sick of this!" "Clara, keep pushing me. Keep acting out. Don't come crying to me when you cry yourself blind again!" The entire bakery fell dead silent. The staff lowered their heads, pretending to be busy. My heart felt like it had been dropped into a bucket of ice water. So, in his eyes, my blindness... was just a result of me "crying over jealousy." And to think I had actually hoped he would remember what the snowy mountains meant to us. How many times had Chloe called him away for a "migraine" or "low blood sugar" during our dates? Julian had dropped everything every single time. When I had a 102-degree fever, Julian had gone shopping with Chloe, texting me a simple: Drink some water, babe. I'll check on you later. He never showed up. And whenever I complained, he would snap at me. "Why can't you be more understanding? Chloe actually needs me!" On our anniversary, Julian had promised to take me to see the mountain sunrise. I had spent weeks preparing a gift, only for him to forget the date entirely. "It's just a calendar date, Clara. Why do you have to be so dramatic?" Yet, for Chloe's birthday, he booked a Michelin-star restaurant a month in advance, bought her a designer gift, and posted it on Instagram. Happy birthday to the most important person in my life. I looked at the two of them standing hand-in-hand. I was so tired. I should have walked away a long time ago. I turned and walked out. Julian didn't follow me. He only threw one last line at my back. "She's probably just stressed about the wedding. Don't take it personally, Chloe." Through the glass window of the bakery, I saw him pick up a fork and feed Chloe a bite of the cinnamon roll. They looked like the perfect couple. That night, Julian sent me a voice note. "Clara, stop being mad." "I'm working so hard, trying to balance my job and take care of both of you. Can't you show a little appreciation?" "We're about to be husband and wife. I need you to grow up." He sounded slightly drunk, his voice slurring as he rambled on. I deleted the voice note without finishing it. He was right. He had it so hard. So, I was going to make things incredibly easy for him. I was going to take myself out of his equation entirely. The day before the wedding, Julian finally called me, sounding anxious.