The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good.

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The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good.

From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't.

When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early.

The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought.

Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend."

I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media.

I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me.

Simple as that.

For the be ...