The Fiancé Who Wouldn't Hold My Hand

1: 1

While we were waiting for our number at the restaurant, my hand accidentally brushed the hem of Dylan Henson's jacket.

He let out a sharp tch and shoved me away, his face cold.

Didn't I tell you not to touch me unless it's necessary?

I froze, then apologized on reflex, ducking my head to dig through my bag for a disinfectant wipe.

Dylan's junior from his old school sidled up to him, grinning, and looped her arm through his.

"Carmen Summers, don't worry, I'll help him with his desensitization!"

The irritation between Dylan's brows vanished in an instant, and he ruffled her hair with open indulgence.

"Good girl. You're different from everyone else."

The server called our number, and the two of them walked into the restaurant side by side without sparing me another glance.

I stood there, staring blankly at their two retreating backs.

Dylan had a severe fear of physical contact.

Seven years together, and he never once held my hand or kissed me. Even sharing a bed, he drew strict boundaries.

If I brushed against him by accident, Dylan would wipe his hands with a wipe ten times over, disgusted, and remind me again and again to keep my distance.

But Ursula Swanson could touch him however she liked, and he never pushed her away.

The server asked me.

"Miss, are you with them?"

I swallowed the sourness in my throat and gave a small shake of my head.

"No."

Then I turned and left.

The person I could never touch. I wasn't going to keep following him anymore.

I found a fast-food place instead.

I'd barely sat down when Dylan's video call came through.

He opened with nothing but accusations.

"What are you throwing a fit about now?"

"Ursula went out of her way to order the dishes you like, and now the food's all here and you've vanished."

"Carmen, can't you be a little more mature?"

I listened in silence.

Dylan didn't care where I was.

He hadn't even noticed I was gone until the food was all on the table.

I was about to speak.

Then Ursula shoved her way into the frame, smiling as she smoothed things over.

"Carmen, it's fine, we can pick a different restaurant next time."

"He's a little short-tempered, don't take it to heart."

Through the screen I could see Ursula and Dylan sitting shoulder to shoulder, their elbows resting cozily against each other.

When Dylan and I ate together, the two of us always sat on opposite sides of the table.

Even to pour water or pass a napkin, I would carefully avoid him, never brushing against Dylan by so much as a hair.

So it turned out it wasn't that he couldn't stand physical contact with anyone.

It was just that the person allowed to touch him wasn't me.

I didn't bother explaining, made an excuse, and hung up.

After I finished eating, I thought it over and over, and still went to the movie theater.

I'd meant to sit through a quiet movie with Dylan.

The date was ruined now, but I didn't want to break the plan with myself.

Once I'd handed over my ticket and gone in, I'd just found my seat when someone tapped my shoulder.

Ursula smiled and winked at me.

"Carmen, he guessed right, you really are here!"

Dylan came in behind her and stiffly handed me a popcorn.

"Carmen, we'll let earlier go, just don't be so willful from now on."

Then he took Ursula's hand himself and led her toward the front rows.

Their seats were right next to each other, a milk tea between them, sharing the same tub of popcorn.

My eyes stung.

When we watched movies, Dylan never bought seats next to mine.

He said theaters were cramped, that the slightest movement would bump the person beside you and cause physical contact.

But now, he was breaking a principle he'd held for years, and he was doing it for Ursula.

I dully tasted a piece of popcorn, but couldn't feel any sweetness at all.

My phone buzzed. A message from Ursula.

Carmen, he's a typical guy, he doesn't know how to comfort a girl, don't be mad at him.

Once I cure his fear of physical contact, you have to treat me to a meal!

Doesn't know how to comfort a girl?

I looked up at the back of Dylan's head in the front row.

The movie was moving, and he was gently handing Ursula a tissue to wipe her tears, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to her face.

It was like a boulder pressing on my chest.

I stood, hunched down, and slipped out of the theater.

I didn't expect Dylan to follow me out.

He folded his arms and stared at me coldly.

"Carmen, what has gotten into you today?"

"Walking out before the movie's over. Trying to ditch me and Ursula here again?"

I didn't want to argue with him, and was just about to leave.

Then someone slammed into me from behind, and my body pitched uncontrollably toward Dylan.

It happened fast, and I instinctively reached out to grab him.

"Dylan, catch me!"

Dylan hesitated for a moment.

The next second, he quickly dodged out of my way.

2: 2

I hit the ground hard, a dull, bone-deep pain shooting through my knee.

The look on Dylan's face was awkward.

"Carmen, are you okay? Can you stand up?"

"You know I'm afraid of physical contact with people."

"It happened so fast, I dodged on instinct."

He stood exactly where he was, not moving, not the slightest intention of coming to help me up.

I clenched my teeth against the pain, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

A young man rushed over, flustered, and helped me to my feet.

"I'm so sorry, I've got something urgent and I was running too fast, I didn't mean to knock into you!"

He was so anxious he kept circling around me. I waved him off and told him to go.

Dylan watched me, uneasy.

"Carmen, go to the hospital and get it checked. Call me if anything comes up."

"I told Ursula I was going to the restroom. If she can't find me in a bit, she'll worry."

I gave a bitter smile and shook my head.

Even after watching me fall with his own eyes, watching my face go white with pain,

Dylan still chose to go back and finish the movie with Ursula.

Anyone who didn't know better would think the two of them were the couple.

I limped away and went to the hospital alone.

By the time I got home, it was deep into the night.

A dim yellow night light was on in the bedroom, and Dylan was already fast asleep.

I looked at the empty notifications on my phone.

The whole evening, Dylan hadn't sent me a single message, hadn't made a single call.

But Ursula had posted three times to her social media, and he'd liked every one of them.

On the nightstand, Dylan's phone kept flashing.

As if something moved my hand for me, I picked it up and opened his chat history with Ursula.

There were a lot of photos together. Dylan letting Ursula hug him from behind, their faces pressed close, both of them grinning.

Dylan, maybe the two of us are the ones who should be a couple!

With someone you really like, of course you'd want to be all over them.

You won't let Carmen touch youprobably because you don't like her, right?

To all of that, Dylan replied with just three words.

You have a point.

I set the phone down gently.

Seven years together, and Dylan and I had fewer than seven photos of us together.

When I wanted to hug him, he'd pull away with a look of open reluctance.

When I got upset and made a scene, Dylan would tell me coldly,

"Carmen, my fear of physical contact isn't about you. Don't read into it."

"I'm seeing a therapist and working on it. You have to give me time."

So I waited seven years.

What I got was him holding hands and hugging another girl, and a "You have a point."

Down the middle of the bed lay a thick, wide comforter, cutting the bed clean into two halves.

That was what Dylan used to mark the boundary between him and me.

I thought for a few seconds, then picked up my own pillow and blanket and went to the couch in the living room.

Before I fell asleep, I sent a message to my boss.

Mr. Fox, I agree to the overseas transfer. I can leave in a week.

The next morning, the moment I opened my eyes, I saw Dylan frowning at me.

"Why did you sleep on the couch last night?"

I got up calmly and gave a short answer.

"I haven't been sleeping well. I need to make some adjustments."

That much was true.

I'm a restless sleeper. I turn over and kick off the covers without knowing it, and I couldn't help brushing against Dylan.

He never let it slide. He'd push me awake on the spot and correct my sleeping posture.

Over time, my nerves grew so tight that the smallest sound would jolt me awake.

To stay by Dylan's side, I'd never once brought any of this up.

From now on, I didn't want to accommodate him anymore.

Dylan frowned slightly, then turned and left for work.

Once I got to the office, I started the paperwork for my transfer.

Dylan texted me a reminder.

Dinner at Mom's tonight.

I replied okay.

After work, I bought a big bag of fruit and went to Dylan's mother's place.

Lily Henson opened the door for me, her face breaking into a smile.

"Perfect timing, Carmen. Dylan just got here too. Come in!"

I looked toward Dylan by the entryway.

He was bent over, changing Ursula's shoes for her. When our eyes met, his hands froze.

3: 3

Lily cleared her throat, a little awkwardly.

"Ursula's such a good girl. Dylan dotes on her like she's his little sister."

Ursula stuck her tongue out playfully.

"Carmen, you're not upset, are you?"

"I'm really just helping him get past his condition, that's all."

"Don't read too much into it, okay?"

I gave a small shake of my head and carried the bags inside.

"I don't mind."

"Where should I put the fruit?"

Seeing how calm I was, something flickered across Dylan's face, but he didn't say anything.

At dinner, Lily suddenly spoke up, all smiles.

"Carmen, Ursula's parents are coming to New York the day after tomorrow to see her, and Dylan and I will be helping host them."

"So maybe your parents shouldn't come just yet."

"You two are solid anyway, and the wedding's a done deal."

"I'll pick a good day later and we'll all have dinner together then."

The hand holding my chopsticks trembled.

Mom and Dad had bought tickets for tomorrow afternoon. They were coming to talk over the wedding with me and Dylan.

Half a month early, they'd already chosen what to wear, called the hotel, put together generous gifts to bring.

And now all of it was thrown into disarray because of Ursula.

I looked at Dylan.

"Should we push the visit to another day?"

He was peeling shrimp for Ursula and didn't even lift his head.

"Whatever Mom says."

I stalled for a moment, then nodded and said okay, softly.

Except there was no need to find another day to have dinner with my parents.

Dylan and I no longer had a future.

Lily beamed and kept praising how sensible I was.

Before we left, Ursula bounced along behind Dylan and went down first to bring the car around.

I helped Lily take the trash down.

When I reached Dylan's car, through the windshield I saw Ursula in the passenger seat, arms hooked around his neck, kissing him like she couldn't bear to let go.

I paused for two seconds, then pulled open the back door and calmly got in.

They both startled and broke apart in an instant.

Ursula covered her face with her hands, flustered, and started explaining.

"Carmen, I was only helping him with his treatment, you"

I cut her off.

"I know. I won't read into it."

"Just drive."

Dylan pressed his lips tight and started the car without a word.

After dropping Ursula off, Dylan pulled over at the curb, his tone cold.

"Come sit up front."

I stayed curled in the back seat, not moving.

"No need."

He looked at me in the rearview mirror, displeased.

"Carmen, what are you sulking about now?"

As if remembering how close he and Ursula had been these past two days, Dylan stiffened, and his tone softened a little.

"Ursula's different from other people. Even I find it strangeI don't mind being touched by her."

"Maybe she really can cure my condition."

"What happened in the car just now... I couldn't hold back for a moment. It won't happen again."

I said nothing, just quietly stared at the compact mirror she'd forgotten to put away in the passenger seat.

Seven years together, and Dylan had never once let me sit in his passenger seat, afraid we might accidentally touch.

Riding in the same car, I always sat in the back, like a fare a driver had picked up.

He kept his distance from me on purpose, never mind a kiss or anything closer.

And Ursula, without fighting for a thing, got every privilege he had to give.

So it turned out one person's favoritism could be this obvious.

My voice was flat.

"Dylan, stop explaining. I really don't mind."

"Let's go home. I'm tired and I want to rest."

Dylan paused, holding back his anger.

"Carmen, I've already smoothed things over with you. If you still want to throw a fit, then suit yourself."

With that, he slammed the gas, and the car shot forward.

Back home, Dylan shut himself in the bedroom with a bang.

I paid it no mind. I just signed my name on the transfer confirmation the company had sent.

And I let my parents know they didn't need to make the trip to New York after all.

The next day, coming back from work, I found my things dumped in a heap by the door.

4: 4

Ursula came out of the kitchen, her face full of apology.

"Carmen, the truth is, I lied to my parents. I told them Dylan and I are together."

"You know how it is, older folks nagging about marriage, it drives you crazy. I didn't have a choice."

"They're coming to see me tomorrow. I'm sorry, but you'll have to move out first."

Dylan sat on the couch flipping through documents, not lifting his eyes to me.

"I'll reimburse you for the hotel."

"Don't come back for a few days. If you run into Ursula's parents, it'll be awkward for me to explain."

My hand tightened on my bag.

When we'd first gotten together, Dylan had bought this apartment outright, in cash, and said it would be our home from then on.

We picked out the furniture together, brought home so many cute fridge magnets.

And now this home was about to welcome its new mistress.

The air went stiff. Ursula spoke up with a smile.

"Carmen, you're the best. Once I get past my parents, I'll thank you properly, I promise!"

"I already packed up all your things for you. See? Aren't I thoughtful?"

Dylan let out a cold scoff.

"Ursula, you don't need to say so much."

"She's been short-tempered lately. Any minute now she'll get jealous and start sulking."

I bit down gently on my lower lip.

Dylan was a cold man by nature. The smallest friction between us and he'd freeze me out, saying things that cut.

Every time, I was the one who came to make peace, who saved us.

But this time I didn't want to give in anymore.

I set the apartment key down in front of Dylan.

"Here's your key back. I won't be coming around anymore."

"And let's break up."

Dylan raised his head from the documents, a thin anger rising between his brows.

"Carmen, what exactly are you so upset about? Enough to use a breakup to needle me?"

Ursula quickly switched to a pitiful expression.

"Carmen, if you really mind me being close to Dylan, I don't have to stay here."

"Dylan did help you once, after all. He doesn't mind your past."

"If you leave him, what other man would want you? Carmen, don't do something rash!"

Something detonated in my head.

"What did you say?"

Ursula looked all innocence.

"Carmen, when you were assaulted, it was Dylan who went with you to report it to the police."

"He even found someone to handle the lawsuit for you. After all that, do you really have the nerve to bring up a breakup with him?"

Cold spread through my whole body.

Years ago, walking alone at night, someone had clamped a hand over my mouth and nose and dragged me into an alley.

Dylan happened to be passing by and saved me.

Afterward he stayed patiently at my side, helped me climb out of that darkness, contacted the best lawyer in the city, and put the man behind bars.

Over all that time together, I gradually fell in love with Dylan, willingly sank into this relationship.

I never imagined he would tell that whole story to Ursula.

I stood frozen where I was, and heard only Dylan's cold laugh.

"Carmen, no wonder I could never bring myself to touch you."

"The real reason, probably, is that I found you dirty."

"After all, what man wants something secondhand?"

I looked at him in disbelief, even my fingertips trembling.

At my worst, I had scrubbed myself raw in the shower, trying to wash that past away.

It was Dylan who told me, again and again, that it wasn't my fault, that I shouldn't turn on myself.

And now he stood there smiling as he said the cruelest thing possible.

The past came rushing back. My stomach began to cramp, and every trace of color drained from my face.

Ursula settled in beside Dylan, calmly enjoying the sight of me coming apart.

I used all my strength to hold myself steady and pulled up my suitcase.

"Dylan, seven years together. Thank you for enduring me."

"You don't have to force yourself anymore."

With that, I stumbled out.

A week later, Dylan dropped Ursula's parents at the station and took out his phone to call me.

It wouldn't connect.

Irritated, he opened our chat. The last message was frozen nine days back.

After thinking a long while, he sent a message anyway.

Ursula's parents went back home. You can move back in tonight.

Which hotel are you at? I'll come get you.

The old me always replied within seconds.

But now there was no answer, and none came.

Dylan backed out of the chat in a huff and idly opened his social media feed.

The instant he took it in, he froze where he stood.