Chapter 3: Cutting the Strings, Chasing the Future

The next morning, I pulled myself together and opened my closet. The air felt fresher, lighter somehow.

Sunlight streamed through the window, catching dust motes in the air. I stared at the row of blue shirts, each one a reminder of who I used to be. My hand hovered, uncertain.

When we were dating—she was still in school and I was working—she didn’t like me dressing too formal. She always had me wear blue casual clothes, said it looked better. I thought it was cute, a sign she cared. Now, I saw it for what it was—a way to mold me into someone else.

She’d tease me about my suits, insist I wear jeans and a hoodie to blend in. I thought it was cute, a sign she cared. Now, I saw it for what it was. She was dressing me up like Tyler.

But after she died and I was sorting through her things, I found an old photo. It was tucked away, hidden like a secret.

It was tucked in the back of a drawer, faded and creased. Savannah and Tyler, side by side, grinning like fools. The happiness in their faces was unmistakable.

It was from back in school—Savannah and Tyler, standing close together, smiling sweetly. Tyler was wearing a blue hoodie. My stomach twisted.

The same shade she always picked out for me. The realization was a punch to the gut. I felt sick.

After Savannah started grad school, she suddenly started to hate my blue clothes. One time when she was home, she tossed them all out without giving a reason. I didn’t argue. I just bought more, trying to please her, trying to win back something that was never mine.

She said they were childish, that I should dress my age. I didn’t argue. I just bought more, trying to please her. The truth was, I was chasing a ghost.

Later, after hearing what my daughter said, I realized I’d always just been Tyler’s stand-in! The truth hit me like a slap. I felt the sting deep in my chest.

Every choice, every compromise, was just me chasing someone else’s shadow. I felt like a fool. The weight of it pressed down on me.

Now, I grabbed an old suitcase and stuffed all my blue clothes into it. I changed into a suit, went out, and tossed the blue clothes away. The act felt final, a line in the sand.

I watched them fall into the donation bin, a small act of rebellion. I was done being someone else’s backup plan. My heart beat a little faster.

From today on, I’d start a new life. The thought scared me, but it also felt like freedom.

The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. I took a deep breath, ready to face whatever came next. My hands steadied.

Speaking of new beginnings, there was always one regret I had—my coworker, Lillian Monroe. The memory of her made my heart flutter.

Lillian was a breath of fresh air—smart, kind, with a laugh that could light up a room. I always wondered what might have been. Her presence lingered in my mind.

Every time we had a meeting, Lillian would pretend she just happened to buy an extra coffee, always the kind I liked best. The smell of hazelnut always made me smile.

She’d wink and slide it across the table, pretending it was no big deal. I knew better. Her eyes told me more than her words ever did.

When I had to work overtime and was drowning, she’d act like she just happened to be free and help me out. She always seemed to know when I needed her most.

She never made a fuss, just quietly picked up the slack. I owed her more than I ever admitted. Her kindness was effortless.

Once, when there was a problem with my project and I was embarrassed in a meeting, Lillian stood up for me. Turned out, she’d secretly studied the project herself. Her confidence made me feel seen.

She took the heat, deflected the blame, and made me look good in front of the boss. I never forgot it. Her loyalty left a mark.

In the end, I just brushed it off with a smile, joking that she was always two steps ahead, and she just grinned and said I should buy her dinner sometime. It sounded playful, but her eyes said she meant it.

She made it sound like a joke, but her eyes said otherwise. I was too blind to see it then. Regret tugged at me.

I knew she liked me… The thought made my chest ache. I was the last to figure it out.

Everyone in the office did, except me. I was too wrapped up in my own mess to notice. My focus was always elsewhere.

If I hadn’t been so foolish back then, I wouldn’t have missed out on such a great girl. The regret gnawed at me.

Regret is a heavy thing. I carried it with me, day after day. It weighed down every step.

Going by the timeline, last night I made things official with Savannah and posted it on Facebook. The notification buzzed in my pocket, making my skin crawl.

The likes and comments poured in, everyone congratulating us. I wanted to delete it all, to rewrite history. My fingers hovered over the screen.

Today, someone else would ask Lillian out, and she’d say yes. The thought made my chest tighten.

I remembered the way she smiled at him, the way she said yes like she meant it. I missed my chance. The regret burned.

No—I had to seize this chance in this life! My heart pounded with determination. I wasn’t going to mess it up again.

I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. Not this time. I set my jaw, ready to change the script.

I drove to a flower shop and bought a huge bouquet of roses. The scent filled the car, making me smile for the first time in days.

The florist raised an eyebrow, but I just smiled. I was a man on a mission. Nothing was going to stop me.

But just as I was about to head to the office, Savannah appeared in front of my car. My heart lurched, dread settling in my gut.

She stepped into the parking lot, arms crossed, blocking my path. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding. The roses tumbled onto the seat.

She frowned and asked, “Who are those for? Why are you wearing a suit again?” Her tone was sharp, demanding answers I didn’t owe her.

Her tone was accusatory, as if I owed her an explanation. I didn’t. I kept my eyes on the road.

“Savannah, that’s none of your business, is it?” I kept my voice calm, refusing to let her get to me. I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

I kept my voice even, refusing to let her get under my skin. My patience was running thin.

She looked awkward and nodded, “Yeah, it’s not my business.” Her words were small, almost swallowed.

She shuffled her feet, glancing away. For once, she had nothing to say. The silence was thick.

I waved for her to move—if I was any later, someone else would ask Lillian out. I couldn’t let that happen.

I tapped the steering wheel, impatience growing. I wasn’t about to let her ruin this for me. My knuckles whitened.

But Savannah just stood in front of my car. She stared me down, refusing to move. I felt my frustration spike.

She dug in her heels, refusing to budge. I sighed, frustration mounting. The clock ticked louder in my ears.

I was exasperated and asked what she wanted. My voice came out sharper than I meant.

I rolled down the window, trying to keep my cool. "Savannah, what is it now?" My tone was clipped, my nerves frayed.

She started crying and said, “I’m pregnant.” Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. I felt nothing but numbness.

The words hit me like a slap. Her tears were real, but I was numb. I stared straight ahead, refusing to react.

“I know you’re pregnant. Yesterday you wanted me to drive you home—just like last time, trying to use the baby to tie me down, right?” My words were sharp, edged with old hurt.

I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. I’d played this game before, and I was done. My chest felt tight.

“Savannah, we both know we’ve come back. What’s the point of saying all this?” My patience was gone. I just wanted her out of my way.

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. My jaw clenched, eyes narrowed.

“Move, I have something important to do!” I gestured to the flowers, to the road ahead. My future was waiting, and she was blocking it.

I gestured to the flowers, to the road ahead. I wasn’t going to miss my chance at happiness. Not this time.

She ran up to me and said, “Don’t you feel any responsibility, since I’m pregnant?” Her voice was desperate, pleading for something I no longer had to give.

Her voice was desperate, pleading. I felt nothing but exhaustion. My shoulders sagged.

Me? The word echoed in my mind, full of disbelief. Was she really asking this of me?

I shook my head, incredulous. Was she really trying to guilt me now? My patience snapped.

“Are you kidding me, Savannah?” My voice cut through her tears, sharp and cold.

My voice was sharp, cutting through her tears. I was done playing along.

“I’m not kidding! Forget about me and Tyler for a second—since you sponsored me, why didn’t you give me any sex ed?” Her words came out in a rush, her anger flaring.

She glared at me, defiant. "I slept with Tyler without any idea what I was doing. It’s all your fault!" Her eyes burned with blame.

I stared at her, speechless. The absurdity of it all was almost too much. I wanted to laugh, to scream, to walk away and never look back. But instead, I just sat there, clutching the bouquet, wondering how I’d ever let myself get this lost. The weight of it all pressed down, and for a moment, I couldn’t move.

This time, I refused to let her steer my life.