I Was Just His Compromise
I dated Julian Thorne for three years, and for three years, he called me by his ex-girlfriend's name during our most intimate moments.
When we were cooking, he’d absentmindedly call out, "Lila, honey, grab the silverware. It's time to eat."
The birthday gift he gave me came with a card that read, "To my darling Lila, happy birthday."
During our most private moments, he'd whisper in my ear, "Lila, am I being gentle enough?"
After being called the wrong name for the hundredth time, the initial sting of irritation faded into numb resignation.
I could only turn his face to mine, look him dead in the eye, and correct him, over and over.
"My name is Ava. Not Lila."
Eventually, Julian started to pause for a full two seconds before saying my name.
Then, he would carefully utter the two syllables: "A-va."
I thought he had finally changed.
I was wrong.
It wasn't until his obsession, the real Lila Hayes, joined our company that things truly unraveled.
The gift card at the company's annual party was, once again, addressed to Lila Hayes.
The bouquet of red roses sent to the office on Valentine's Day also had Lila Hayes's name on it.
And then, when he proposed, he got down on one knee in front of me and called out:
"Lila Hayes, will you marry me?"
The "I do" was stuck in my throat.
The excitement that had been building in my chest instantly shattered.
Suddenly, it all felt meaningless.
...