He Erased Me From The Photo I Erased Him From My Life Chapter 03
On our fourth anniversary, Owen and I both took the day off.
At nine in the morning, we went to the Cook County Clerk’s Office to get our marriage license.
The lobby was packed.
Couples leaned against each other, checking their paperwork. Others took selfies with their number slips. Owen adjusted my scarf and smiled.
“Once we have the license, the wedding is all that’s left.”
I smiled back.
At that moment, I still believed we were going to get married.
In my arms, I clutched a large manila envelope.
Inside were the notarized property documents for the sale of my mother’s old house in Santa Fe. Her Parkinson’s was getting worse, and the money from the sale was for her long-term care.
There was only one original copy of the paperwork.
As soon as we finished at the clerk’s office, I had to get back to the apartment, package it securely, and take it to be shipped overnight.
We stood in line for nearly an hour. There were only two couples ahead of us.
Then Owen’s phone rang.
The instant he saw the name on the screen, he answered.
“Sloane? What’s wrong?”
Her crying on the other end was so loud I could hear it.
The smile vanished from Owen’s face.
“Okay, don’t cry. Is Lucy hurt?”
He paused for a few seconds, his voice softening.
“Alright, I know. What did the teacher say?”
“Where did the car break down? Send me the location.”
I stood beside him, clutching the envelope, watching him soothe her again and again.
“Lucy getting into a fight with a classmate doesn’t make her a bad kid.”
“It’s okay if you can’t handle it alone. You’ve got me.”
He even turned away, pressing a hand to his free ear to hear Sloane better.
As if I weren’t there at all.
As if our number for the marriage license we’d waited an hour for wasn’t about to be called.
The call lasted nearly ten minutes.
By then, only one couple was left in front of us.
The clerk was already signaling for us to have our IDs ready.
Owen finally hung up and immediately glanced toward the exit.
“Sloane’s car broke down. Lucy got into a fight at school, and the teacher wants a parent there.”
“Is Lucy okay?”
“She’s not hurt, but she’s really upset.”
“The teachers are at the school. And Sloane can call an Uber or a cab.”
Owen frowned.
“She’s panicking.”
“So?”
“I need to go get her.”
For a second, I thought I’d misheard him.
“We’re next.”
“We can get the license another time.”
“We took today off for this. The planner is waiting for the license number, and we both have to be present to apply.”
Owen glanced at the line, his expression hardening with impatience.
“Sloane never calls me unless it’s an emergency. She wouldn’t be crying like that if she wasn’t completely out of options.”
“Her car broke down. She and Lucy aren’t stranded in the middle of nowhere.”
I struggled to keep my voice calm.
“Calling a car takes two minutes. You could order one for her right now.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
He didn’t answer.
But I already knew.
What Sloane needed wasn’t a ride.
She needed Owen to drop everything the moment she called and run to her side.
And Owen liked being needed that way.
The clerk waved us forward.
“Next!”
I looked at Owen.
He took a step back, his car keys already in his hand.
“Nat, just go home. We’ll come back another time.”
Then he turned and strode toward the exit.
No apology.
No looking back.
The clerk called again. “Next?”
The people behind us were starting to shift impatiently.
I had no choice but to step out of the line, giving our spot to the next couple.
Hand in hand, they walked up to the counter.
And I stood alone in the middle of the government building, clutching my mother’s property papers, the whole thing feeling like a cheap, absurd joke.
An hour in line for a marriage license meant less than a single phone call from Sloane—a problem that could have been solved with a ride-share app.
I glanced at the time.
It was already close to eleven-thirty.
The shipping office cut off overnight service at four p.m. My mother’s buyer needed the original documents on time. A one-day delay could postpone the closing and trigger a steep penalty.
The marriage license could wait until “another time.”
My mother’s medical bills could not.
I tightened my grip on the envelope, called a car, and headed straight back to the apartment Owen and I shared.
At the time, I still thought the worst part of the day was over.