He Canceled Our Wedding for His Sister's Party, So I Canceled Him

My boyfriend suddenly told me that our wedding date had to be postponed. "Melody’s 18th birthday gala is on the same day, and she really wants the Crystal Ballroom.

I already canceled our booking and transferred it to her." It was because of his sister. Again. In the past, I would have screamed, fought, and cried.

But now, all I felt was an overwhelming, soulcrushing fatigue. Austin glanced at me guiltily after delivering the news.

To his surprise, I just smiled. "Of course Melody’s birthday is more important.

It doesn't matter if we have a wedding at all." He froze for a second, then quickly wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. "I knew you’d understand.

Honestly, I’ve always thought weddings are just a waste of money anyway.

Saving that five thousand dollars means we can use it for something else." "Don't worry, even without the ceremony, I'll make sure you get everything you deserve." With that, he turned around and immediately called his sister to share the good news.

I put down the halffolded wedding invitation in my hand, picked up my phone, and texted my mom. "Mom, the wedding is off.

I'm done." After hanging up the phone, I stood on the balcony, staring blankly at the city lights. From the living room, Austin’s voice drifted over. "Chloe?

What are you doing out there? Come here and help me look at something." I took a deep breath, turned around, and walked back inside.

He was lounging on the sofa, his phone screen glowing as he scrolled through a luxury jewelry website. "What do you think of this necklace?

It's six thousand dollars, and the design is so elegant." He held the phone up to my face. "Melody likes simple things. I think this one is perfect." I stared at the screen.

It was a solid gold necklace with a delicate crown pendant. It really was beautiful. We had been together for five years.

Over those five years, through every birthday, holiday, and anniversary, the only thing he had ever given me was a single lipstick.

It was a free sample he got from buying a skincare gift set for his mother. At the time, I had been thrilled for days, thinking he had finally remembered to get me something.

It wasn't until I found the receipt in his bag weeks later that I saw the words "GIFT WITH PURCHASE" printed clearly in bold letters. "It’s nice," I said, my voice flat.

He didn't notice the lack of warmth in my tone. He kept scrolling. "Or this one? It's seven thousand.

Which one do you think is better?" "Either is fine." "Come on, help me choose," he frowned, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "This is Melody’s 18th birthday.

It has to be perfect." I watched him obsessively compare the two necklaces, his fingers sliding across the screen with absolute dedication.

Just last week, we went to look at wedding rings. He sat in the jewelry store, staring at his phone the entire time.

The sales associate brought out five or six rings for me to try on, but he didn't even look up once. In the end, I chose the cheapest set of plain silver bands.

They cost three hundred dollars. When he swiped his card, he muttered, "Rings are just a formality anyway.

You’ll get tired of wearing them in a couple of weeks." "You're buying her a sixthousanddollar necklace," I said quietly. "Don't you need to discuss that with your parents first?" "Why would I?

It’s my own money." He shrugged. "Besides, my parents already got her a whole matching gold jewelry set.

As her older brother, adding a necklace is the least I can do." I thought back to the night we picked our wedding date.

He had told me we needed to keep the entire wedding budget under five thousand dollars. "We have to save wherever we can, Chloe." He also suggested we skip the honeymoon. "We'll go somewhere nice when we have more money later." A fivethousanddollar wedding was too expensive for him, but a sixthousanddollar necklace for his sister was a nobrainer.

I sat down on the sofa and picked up one of the halffolded invitations. The pastel pink card had our names printed on it, with the date set for the sixteenth of next month.

I had spent a whole week picking these out. They were the cheapest ones online, only fifty cents each.

I had bought fifty of them. "You can stop folding those," Austin said, barely glancing at me. "We won't be needing them anyway." My hands froze. "Austin," I called his name. "Yeah?" "Melody’s birthday gala is more important than our wedding, isn't it?" He finally took his eyes off his phone and looked at me.

His eyes flickered with a brief moment of guilt, but he quickly recovered his usual selfrighteous attitude. "It’s not like I had a choice, Chloe.

The venue coordinator said the Crystal Ballroom only had one slot left that weekend, and Melody absolutely had to have it." "We're just postponing our wedding.

It's not like we're canceling it." "Next spring will be better anyway. The weather will be nice, and we can do an outdoor wedding." Next spring.

I let out a soft, humorless laugh and said nothing. Thinking I had agreed, he went back to his phone. "Let's go with the seventhousanddollar one then.

It's pricey, but Melody will love it." "I’m taking tomorrow off to pick it up from the store. You should take the day off too and come with me." "I can't.

I have to work tomorrow." "Just request a day off. Don't you have a bunch of paid time off left?" "I don't want to." He finally sensed something was off.

He put his phone down and turned his body to face me. "What is wrong with you?

Are you throwing a tantrum again?" "No." I stood up. "I'm going to take a shower." He grabbed my wrist. "Don't be like this, Chloe. I know you feel slighted.

But I swear, this is the absolute last time."

"Once Melody’s birthday is over, I won't interfere in her life anymore. We'll focus on us, okay?" The last time. I had heard that phrase so many times before.

The last time he said "the last time" was when Melody came to stay at our apartment for a month during her summer break.

For thirty days, I got up at 6:30 AM every single morning to make her breakfast, and I had to bring her takeout after a long day at work because she refused to cook.

She locked herself in her room playing video games until three in the morning with the speakers blasting. I could hear every explosion through the thin apartment walls.

I told Austin, "Can you ask Melody to wear headphones? I have to get up early for work." He replied, "She's just a kid on break, Chloe.

Don't be so uptight." The time before that, we had saved up for six months to go on a trip to Hawaii. The hotel was booked, the flights were paid for.

But the night before we were supposed to leave, Melody called. She said she was feeling depressed and needed her brother.

Without a second thought, Austin canceled his ticket, losing over a thousand dollars in cancellation fees. He told me, "Melody has been under a lot of stress with school.

I need to be here for her." And the time before that, on our second anniversary, he promised to take me to a fancy steakhouse.

I did my makeup, put on a beautiful dress, and waited for him for two hours. When he finally showed up, he brought Melody with him. He said, "Melody was home alone.

I couldn't just leave her." During that dinner, I sat across from them, watching him cut her steak, put food on her plate, and wipe her mouth.

The dessert we got was a strawberry cheesecake—which Melody chose, even though he knew I was allergic to strawberries. He just shrugged and said, "Sorry, Chloe.

Melody loves strawberry." Every single time was supposed to be the last time.

But it never was. "Austin," I said, pulling my wrist out of his grip. "Does your 'last time' actually mean anything anymore?" His face darkened. "What is that supposed to mean?" "Nothing.

Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly stood up, raising his voice. "It’s just one birthday gala!

Why can't you just let her have this? Are you really that petty?" I didn't argue. "I’ve told you a thousand times, Melody’s health isn't great, and our parents are getting older.

If I don't look after her, who will? Why can't you just show some empathy?" Just then, the doorbell rang. Austin walked over and opened it.

The moment the door swung wide, Melody bounded into the apartment. She was holding two cups of iced boba tea, smiling brightly as she hugged Austin.

Then, she finally noticed me standing in the living room. "Chloe!" She ran over to me and shoved one of the cups into my hand. "I got this for you!

Your favorite, Taro Boba!" I looked down at the cup in my hand and said nothing. Taro was her favorite flavor. I absolutely hated it. Melody tilted her head, watching my face.

Her eyes blinked rapidly, and her expression instantly shifted into one of pure innocence and worry. She set her drink on the table, wringing her hands together.

Her voice trembled. "Chloe... are you mad at me?" "No," I said. "Really?" She took a step closer, staring into my eyes. "Is this about the Crystal Ballroom?

Chloe, I swear I didn't do it on purpose. I had no idea you guys booked it for that day. How about I go talk to Mom and Dad and ask them to change the venue?

Please don't be mad at me, okay?" "It’s fine," I smiled faintly. "Have a great birthday.

The Crystal Ballroom is beautiful." She bit her lower lip, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you're really unhappy about it...

I don't even have to have a party." Austin walked over and threw his arm around Melody’s shoulders. "Alright, that’s enough. Chloe said she’s fine with it.

You already apologized, what more does she want?"

Melody looked up at him. "Austin, don't blame Chloe. She must be feeling hurt.

I would be too if I were in her shoes." "Hurt?" Austin sneered, grabbing his jacket from the couch. "Why would she be hurt?

We're still getting married, we're just pushing the date back." "You only turn eighteen once in your life.

Why is she keeping score with you over this?" He patted Melody on the head, his voice instantly softening. "Come on, I'll take you out to dinner." "What about Chloe?" Melody looked back at me. "Leave her.

She needs some time alone to cool her head." Austin dragged Melody toward the door. The door slammed shut behind them. The apartment fell dead silent.

I sat back down on the sofa, looking around the place we had shared for the past two years.

The beanbag chair in the corner of the living room was bought by Melody because she said it was comfortable for gaming when she visited.

The anime figures on the TV stand belonged to Melody because she thought they looked cute there. The refrigerator door was covered in Polaroid photos of Melody, smiling brightly.

I walked into the guest bedroom, which was originally supposed to be my home office. I pushed the door open. The room was decorated completely differently from what I had planned.

The bed was covered in pastel pink sheets, the walls were lined with posters of her favorite bands, and the desk was cluttered with her makeup and trinkets. I opened the closet.

Her clothes took up twothirds of the space—all expensive brandname pieces that Austin had bought for her, some with the tags still on. I looked at a designer hoodie. It cost $250.

Austin had bought it because "Melody said she wanted it." Meanwhile, last winter, I wanted to buy a $100 winter coat, and he told me it was too expensive and that I should wait for a clearance sale.

I walked back to the master bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing. I folded my clothes one by one and packed them away neatly. It didn't take long.

In less than an hour, my entire life was packed into two suitcases. The framed photo of us on the living room shelf stared back at me.

I hesitated for a second, then decided to leave it. I pulled my house key out of my bag and placed it quietly on the shoe rack by the door. My phone buzzed.

It was a notification from the family Snapchat group. Austin had posted a photo of him and Melody at a highend steakhouse downtown. The table was piled with expensive dishes.

I knew that restaurant. It cost at least $150 per person.

I had wanted to go there for my birthday last year, but Austin said it was a waste of money and took me to a cheap diner instead.

In the group chat, his mother replied: "Spoiling your sister again! You’re such a good brother." Austin sent back a smiley face.

Melody followed up with a long string of texts: "Austin is the absolute best! He ordered all my favorites! ❤️" I didn't read any further.

I locked my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and dragged my suitcases out the door. I called an Uber and headed to the train station. I bought a ticket on the way.

It was a onehour ride back to my hometown. I sat on the cold metal bench in the waiting area, watching people rush past as the overhead speakers announced departures.

My train was arriving in twenty minutes. Suddenly, my screen lit up with Austin's caller ID.

I answered. "Where are you?" his voice sounded confused, with the faint sound of Melody’s laughter in the background. "Why are your keys on the shoe rack?" "I went home," I said calmly. "Home?

To your mom's place?" He sighed. "Well, that actually works out.

Melody wanted to stay at our apartment for a few days to visit some friends anyway." "It's good for you two to have some space.

It’ll prevent any more stupid arguments." He said it so casually, as if my leaving was just a convenient way to make room for his sister.

As if it were a thoughtful arrangement. "Austin," I said, my voice steady. "I'm never coming back. We're not getting married."