I Was Never His First Choice,So I Became Someone Else's Only

I couldn't sleep. The bedroom door was ajar, and I could see him sitting on the bed, the faint glow of his phone screen illuminating his face. He was texting someone on the other end, smiling wide. Two months ago, he'd gone out for a business dinner and drunk himself into the hospital. I stayed by his side the entire night. When he woke up, the only thing I got was a “Why is it you who's here?” I sent my boss at the station a message accepting the overseas assignment. 【You sure you don't want to reconsider? Your wedding's right around the corner.】 【I'm sure. A career matters more than a wedding.】 I typed my reply to her question, compressing every ounce of heartache into a joke. She told me there was one last interview I needed to do before I left. I opened the interviewee's profile page, and the name “Sarah Harding” stared back at me. Fate, it seemed, had a sense of humor I didn't appreciate. The next day was Saturday. Julius was out the door early. He said something had come up at the office. But he'd dressed carefully, his hair styled neat, and he'd put on cologne. The scent was light with a trace of sweetness. Kapok blossom. My phone buzzed. A text from Julius. 【Won't be back for lunch. Ordered you some herbal soup for your stomach.】 【Okay, thanks.】 My stomach issues were last month's problem. I didn't bother correcting him. Then I made another call. “Roderick James, that interview subject the station assigned me, Sarah Harding. Send me her contact info.” I said, “I want to set up a chat with her.” After I hung up, I walked back to the bedroom. My mind drifted to an autumn evening three years ago. I'd gone deep into a rural village to investigate a trafficking ring when the locals caught on and cornered me in a pig pen. I was crouched in the corner, covered in filth and mud, my face bruised where they'd hit me. The villagers stood outside with hoes and carrying poles, hurling threats and slurs. My camera was smashed. My phone had no signal. I genuinely believed I was going to die there. Then Julius came. He charged through the crowd with a shovel in his hands, like a man with nothing left to lose. Later, I asked him how he'd found me. 【I couldn't get through to your phone. I checked your location and followed it all the way here.】 I asked him if he'd been scared. What if he couldn't fight them off? We both would have died there, and no one would have ever known. 【I was scared. But I was more scared of not reaching you in time.】 When he said those words, the way he looked at me was fierce with love, so bright it burned through every last shred of fear I'd been carrying. But last night, when he looked at me, his eyes were cold. All that blazing love seemed to have vanished in the weeks since Sarah Harding came back to the country. Or maybe it hadn't vanished at all. Maybe it had simply been transferred, every last drop, to her. I picked up my phone and, through the contact Roderick forwarded, added Sarah Harding on WhatsApp. Her profile picture was a kapok blossom. Julius had recently changed his to the same thing. Her latest post on social media was from an hour ago. The photo showed two people's shadows, close together, hands overlapping. The caption read: 【Revisiting old places with the one who got away.】 Underneath was Julius's reply. 【This time, I won't let you slip away again.】 I stared at that photo for a long time. Long enough that my eyes began to sting, and the tears came before I could stop them. I was a social news reporter. I'd seen every kind of photograph that could break a person's heart. But this was the only one that made me cry the moment I saw it.

I dried my tears and sent Sarah Harding a message. Once this interview was done, I could leave. Our brief exchange on WhatsApp revealed something I hadn't expected: Sarah and I had spent time in the same orphanage as children. We agreed to meet at three o'clock at a coffee shop on the south side of town. Maybe it was some petty competitive instinct, but I made sure I looked good. I wore the most expensive dress in my closet, did my makeup light and natural, and curled my hair on the spot. Going to meet Julius Henson's first love, the least I could do was look the part. She was already there when I arrived. Prettier than I'd imagined. Just like her name suggested, she was vivid, full of life, with a stubborn spark that refused to quit. “Alma!” The moment she saw me, she stood and waved. On her wrist was a red string bracelet threaded with a tiny bell engraved with a blessing. “Over here, over here.” Her wrist swung and the bell rang, crisp and clear. I recognized it. Julius and I had picked it out together not long ago. He'd said it was a gift for a business partner's daughter. I'd believed him. I walked over and sat down. “I remember you liked sweet things. Even at the orphanage, you'd add an extra spoonful of sugar to the plain oatmeal.” She pushed a mango smoothie across the table toward me. We'd only overlapped for six months, yet she remembered details like that. Julius didn't. Last month, for my birthday, he'd gone ahead and swapped the mango cake I'd ordered for a matcha one. And when he brought it home, a corner was already missing. He said he'd given that piece to Sarah. “You have a good memory,” “Of course I do,” She looked at me and smiled, her eyes curving into warm crescents. “Alma, you saved my life!” “The winter I came to the orphanage, I had a fever so bad I started seizing. You were the one who got up and woke the caretaker and got me to the hospital.” “The doctor said if I'd been brought in even an hour later, the fever could have caused brain damage.” My fingers stiffened around my cup. I never knew there was that kind of history between us. “I remember now,” I said, my voice suddenly thick. There were words I swallowed back down. I should have confronted her about her relationship with Julius. I should have questioned her character, thrown the drink in her face. But looking at the girl beaming at me with such open warmth, I couldn't do it. “Alma, how long have you and Julius been together?” As we were leaving, she asked the question out of nowhere. “Three years.” “Three years,” she repeated, her face glowing with genuine happiness for us. “You two must be so solid. Julius seems cold on the surface, but he's actually the most devoted person I know.” “Once he decides something matters to him, he never, ever forgets.” She was right. And she was wrong. Julius was devoted, yes. But the person he was devoted to was her. The one he never forgot was her. On the drive home, a message from Julius came through. 【Dinner meeting tonight. Won't be back.】 【Got it.】 I took a detour to the store and bought a bunch of fresh gardenias, then went home and arranged them in a vase. On impulse, I snapped a photo of the flowers and posted it to Instagram with a single line. 【Love yourself before you love anyone else.】 Then I booked a flight overseas. The day after tomorrow. By the time I finished packing, I noticed Sarah had liked the post, and Julius had left me a rare WhatsApp message. 【You interviewed Sarah today?】 【She's not in the best health. Don't ask too many questions that might upset her.】 Aside from his usual "working late, won't be back," that was the most he'd said to me in weeks. Make do.

I stared at that message for a long time. Then I laughed. Sarah couldn't be too upset. But what about me? Julius came home after midnight. No trace of alcohol on him. Just the faint scent of kapok blossoms. “You're still up?” he asked quietly. “Julius,” I said his name like it was the last time I ever would. “Do you remember the first bouquet you gave me?” He went quiet for a moment. “I do.” “Gardenias. Because of my name.” “The florist said they were sold out. Told you to settle for red roses instead.” “You said no. Then you ran three blocks to find another shop and bought them anyway.” I walked him through the memory, piece by piece. "But this time, you told me the shop only had gardenias left. That I should just settle.” His mouth opened, but nothing came out. I understood him, really. He wanted to make up for old regrets with Sarah so he could come back to us with a clear conscience. He assumed I'd always be right here, waiting. But I was done waiting. I looked him in the eye and said it word by word. “Let's break up, Julius.” “You want to break up with me?” Irritation crept into his voice. “Over a bouquet of flowers?” I lowered my head and laughed. At him, for still not seeing it. At his arrogance. I stood up and kept my voice level. “I'm going to bed.” “You should get some rest too.” The next morning, I was jolted awake by a barrage of calls from Roderick. “Alma, I need you. It's an emergency.” He explained that the reporter assigned to cover a story at a construction site on the outskirts of town had come down with food poisoning. No one else was available, so they were pulling me in despite my imminent departure. I threw on clothes, splashed water on my face, and rushed to the scene. The construction site was packed, workers blocking every entrance. Only then did I realize what this assignment was: a wage-theft protest. Bad luck must have been following me. During the commotion, a bottle came flying out of nowhere and cracked against my skull. Glass. Blood poured down my face immediately. I was still conscious when the ambulance brought me in. On the stretch from the hospital entrance to the ER, I saw someone I never expected. Julius. With Sarah on his arm. He brushed right past my gurney. “You just came out here with me without telling anyone?” “No. I didn't need to.” The hand I'd been about to reach out to him pulled back. His name died in my throat. Then everything went black from the blood loss. When I woke up, there were less than twelve hours before my flight. The only new message on my phone was from Julius. 【Not coming home tonight.】 I didn't reply. My head was still heavy and throbbing, but I grabbed my suitcase and boarded the plane. At the same time, Julius was at the airport seeing Sarah off. “Will you come back?” His voice was calm, as though some unfinished chapter had finally closed. “If I get the chance, yes.” Sarah smiled and nodded. “Don't forget to tell Alma to touch up my interview photos!” She waved goodbye from the security checkpoint entrance. Julius watched her disappear, then dialed Alma's number. No answer. He smiled to himself, a little helpless. She was probably sulking because he'd been neglecting her lately. A hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. It was Roderick, Alma's assistant. “Julius, are you here to see Alma off too?” “See her off for what?” Something was slipping out of his control. Panic surged from somewhere deep in his chest. “Alma accepted the overseas correspondent assignment.” Roderick's voice carried a note of confusion. “Weren't you two about to get married? Why would she leave now?” Julius grabbed Roderick's shoulder, his voice tight with urgency. “What's the flight number!” “MU5013. She didn't tell you?” The roar of an engine tore past overhead, and Julius's gaze snapped to the window.