Faded Love

"Tell me you're joking," Mira whispered into her phone, her breath fogging in the crisp morning air outside the registry office.

She'd been standing on the stone steps for nearly twenty minutes now, watching couples drift in and out while her world slowly collapsed.

"I'm not joking, Mira. I can't do this," Ethan's voice crackled through the speaker, each word landing like a punch to her stomach.

"But we planned everything. Your parents are already at the restaurant waiting for us," she said, her voice breaking despite her best efforts to stay composed. They'd decided on a small civil ceremony followed by lunch with his family. Nothing extravagant, nothing she couldn't afford on her librarian's salary.

"That's the problem. It's all been planned. I never asked for any of this," Ethan said, his tone carrying an edge she'd never heard before.

Mira pressed her palm against the cold stone wall, steadying herself. They'd been together for three years. He'd proposed to her six months ago in the same library where they first met. What changed?

"Ethan, please. Just come here and we can talk about this face to face," she pleaded, hating how desperate she sounded.

"There's nothing to talk about. I've made up my mind."

"Is someone there with you?" Mira asked suddenly, catching the sound of movement in the background. A door closing, perhaps. Or footsteps.

"Don't be paranoid," Ethan said quickly. Too quickly.

"I heard something. Ethan, who's there?" Her heart hammered against her ribs.

There was a long pause, and in that silence, Mira heard it again. A soft laugh, distinctly feminine, unmistakably familiar.

"Is that Claire?" The words came out barely above a whisper.

Claire. Her colleague at the library. The woman who'd helped her choose the modest dress she was wearing right now. The friend who'd promised to stop by the registry office later with flowers.

"Mira, this isn't how I wanted you to find out," Ethan said.

"Find out what?" But she already knew. The late nights Ethan claimed he was working. The way Claire had been avoiding eye contact for weeks. The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity.

"We didn't mean for it to happen," Ethan continued, his voice taking on a defensive tone. "It just did. Claire and I, we're better suited for each other. You have to understand."

"I don't have to understand anything," Mira said, surprised by the steadiness in her voice even as tears began streaming down her face. "Don't ever contact me again."

She ended the call before he could respond, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone. Around her, the city continued its usual rhythm, completely indifferent to her devastation. A bus rumbled past. Someone's dog barked in the distance. The ordinary sounds of a Wednesday morning that had just become the worst day of her life.

Mira sank onto the steps, not caring that the cold stone would ruin her dress. The dress she'd saved up for three months to buy. The dress she'd planned to wear as she became Mrs. Ethan Foster.

What a fool she'd been.

She cried and cried until the conversation of the man who stood not quite far from her struck her.