His Ninety-Nine Betrayals, My Freedom

mbled, but my resolve was solid steel. I walked directly to the large, ornate wooden chest in the corner of my liv

attered dreams. I looked at the pristine white fabric, at the delicat

pair of scissors from my desk. The sharp bl

n

gged line through the bodice, then dragged the scissors across the delicate train. F

oor, her eyes wide with horror. She' d heard me on the phone, heard Bryc

violent symphony of destruction. "It's just a dress, Maya," I

magining the day I would walk down the aisle, Bryce waiting for me. Each fitting had been a negotiation, a hopeful compromise between my practical sid

en. I had believed in a future where we would build a life together, where my career, my passions, would be celebrated, not threatened. I had seen us growing

ed with shared dreams. It

Navy, visiting his sister, Kendall, my childhood friend, during a brief leave. I had known Kendall since kin

ded soldier. Floy, my mother, and Gerry, my father, gravitated towards her drama, her "fra

ho was ten, had immediately declared it "too babyish" for Amelie and had thrown a fit, claiming she wanted it. My mother, without a second

treaming down my fac

immediate, physical. "Don't you dare talk back! You're selfish.

myself huddled under a bridge, the cold concrete a poor substitute for comfort. Hours passed.

andwich, sitting with me in silence until I felt brave enough to go home. He had looked at me with an intensity that made me f

tened to my dreams, encouraged my studies, praised my intelligence. He promised me a life wh

me. After we got engaged, his concern for Kendall deepened. He started asking me to "be understanding" when Kendall needed something. "

ttle while" tu

I lend her money from my savings. When she struggled with her mental health, he insisted I drop my weekend plans to be with

ture, was real. It was the ultimate prize, the prom

icated crisis from Kendall, each time Bryce by her side, pushing our wedding date further

all, after a particularly nasty breakup, had checked herself into a private clinic just days before. Bryce had been besid

promised me he'd make it up to me, that he'd "move heaven

t pushing our then-scheduled wedding by a month. Bryce had been furious. "Are you serious, Amelie? After all these delays, you want to postpone our wed

d her. My heart had soared. This was it. No more drama. No more postponements.

eymoon, our future home, the quiet moments of companionship I craved. I start

in a fit of manufactured despair, refused, claiming she couldn't leave her family, couldn't leave Bryce, c

wedding was postponed

hat I was a backup plan. The sheer audacity of his plan to marry Kendall to access a thera

anything, just put a comforting hand on my trembling shoulder. The tears finally came, hot and stinging, blurring my vision. They weren't tears of

he words raw and choked wit

trange, fierce exhilaration. For the first time in years, the future felt like an open road, not a n

y, wonderfully free. The ruined dress lay in a he