My fiance said,”My friends hate you because you’re too nice. I need a break to date a bad boy.” I simply said,”Okay, I’ll be bad.”

My fiance said,”My friends hate you because you’re too nice. I need a break to date a bad boy.” I simply said,”Okay, I’ll be bad.”

Then I canceled the venue, the caterer, and the honeymoon without telling her. Her panicked call 2 days before the wedding she thought was still on. I proposed to Emily after 3 years of dating.

She said yes. We set a wedding date, June 14th. 10 months to plan.

Emily loved the idea of being married. She did not love the idea of planning a wedding.”Can you just handle it?” she’d said when we started.”Wedding planning stresses me out.

You’re better at logistics anyway.” Fair enough. I’m a high school math teacher, make $58,000 a year, drive a sensible Toyota Camry, have a 401k, own a three-bedroom house with a reasonable mortgage.

I can handle logistics. Emily worked as a dental hygienist, made $54,000 a year. She was practical, responsible.

We split everything fairly. We were a good match until she met her new coworkers. Emily got a new job at a fancy dental practice in the city.

Upscale clientele, private rooms, espresso machine in the break room, the kind of place that charged $400 for a cleaning. The dental hygienists there were different.

They wore designer scrubs with their names embroidered in cursive, drove luxury cars on dental hygienist salaries, posted Instagram stories from their lunch breaks at restaurants I couldn’t pronounce. Their names were Sophia, Megan, and Briana.

[clears throat] They took group photos with captions like live, laugh, dental floss, and bad decisions make good stories, and boss babes who polish teeth and break hearts. Sophia was 32, never married, engaged three times, currently dating a personal injury lawyer who was really intense, her words.

Megan was 28, married and divorced already, now dating a guy who owned a CrossFit gym and posted shirtless selfies with captions like”Grind never stops” and”Success is my only option.” Breanna was 26, perpetually single, perpetually dramatic. Every weekend was a situation.

Every Monday was a story about some guy named Kyle or Brad or Tanner who was so toxic, but like in a hot way. These were Emily’s new role models.

Emily started coming home with opinions.”Babe, Sophia said we should have our wedding at the Gatsby estate.””That place costs $18,000 just for the venue.””So?””So we budgeted $8,000 for the venue.””That’s so boring.””It’s responsible.””Sophia’s fiance surprised her with a $30,000 wedding upgrade.””Sophia’s fiance is an orthopedic surgeon.””You

could be more ambitious.””You could be more ambitious.”

Here we again. We’d already booked our wedding venue, the Riverside Inn, $7,500. Nice place, holds 150 guests, included tables, chairs, basic decorating.

We’d put down a $3,000 deposit. My money. Caterer, $4,500 for 120 people.

Deposit, $1,500 split between us, $750 each. Photographer, $3,000 deposit, thousand. Her parents paid.

DJ, $1,200 paid in full, my money. Flowers, $2,000 deposit, eight hundred split between us, $400 each. My suit, $600 paid, my money.

Her dress, $2,800 paid in full, her parents paid. Honeymoon, $6,000 to Italy, paid in full, my money. Non-refundable through the travel agency, but I’d purchased travel insurance for $420 that covered cancellations.

Total wedding budget, $27,600. Reasonable for our income level. But Emily’s new friends thought it was pedestrian.

Megan’s wedding cost $75,000. Megan’s parents are real estate developers. You’re making excuses.

I’m being realistic. Sophia said you’re too nice, that you don’t have edge. Edge?

Yeah. You’re boring. You follow all the rules.

You’re safe. Those are good qualities? Not to my friends.

Why do I care what your friends think? Because I care what they think. This went on for 2 months.

Every dinner conversation became about how I wasn’t exciting enough, how I was too predictable, too nice, too boring. Then came the conversation that ended everything. We were having dinner.

I’d made pasta. She was on her phone. Emily?

Hmm? Can you put your phone down? I’m texting Breanna.

We’re eating. God, you’re so uptight. I put down my fork.

What’s going on with you? She looked up. My friends hate you.

Excuse me? They hate you because you’re too nice, too safe, too boring. And what do you think?

I think I think they’re right. I felt something shift in my chest. Okay.

Okay, what? If you think I’m boring, why are you marrying me? I don’t know.

Maybe I need to figure that out. What does that mean? She took a breath.

I need a break. A break? Yeah, before the wedding.

I need to experience something different. Different how? I want to date a bad boy, someone exciting, someone with edge, just to see what it’s like.

Then I’ll know for sure if you’re the right person. I stared at her. You want to date other people 2 months before our wedding.

Just for a little while. Just to get it out of my system. Get what out of your system?

The curiosity. Sophia said if I don’t explore now, I’ll always wonder. Sophia is giving you relationship advice?

She’s been engaged three times. She knows what she’s doing. Being engaged three times means she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

See? This is what I mean. You’re so judgmental.

A bad boy wouldn’t judge me. A bad boy wouldn’t marry you, either. I just need space, a few weeks, then we can get married.

I sat there, looked at this woman I’d been with for 3 years, who I’d proposed to, who I’d planned a future with, and I felt nothing. No anger, no sadness, just clarity. Okay, I said,”Okay.

Yeah, take your break. Date your bad boy.” Really?

Sure, but you said I’m too nice. I need to work on that. What?

I’ll be bad starting now. What does that mean? You’ll see.

She looked confused, but also relieved. So, we’re good? We’re on a break.

Go do what you need to do. She left that night, went to stay with Sophia. The next morning I started making calls.

The venue. Hi, this is Nathan Torres. I have a wedding booked for June 14th.

I need to cancel. I’m sorry to hear that. Per our contract, if you cancel more than 60 days before the event, you forfeit your deposit, but owe nothing else.

You’re 67 days out, so you’ll lose the $3,000 deposit, but you won’t owe the remaining $4,500. Understood. Please cancel.

Confirmed. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Lost $3,000 of my money.

Worth it. The caterer. Nathan Torres, wedding on June 14th.

I need to cancel. Oh, no, is everything all right? Change of plans.

What’s the cancellation policy? Let me check. Okay, you’re 67 days out.

Our policy says more than 60 days, you lose the deposit, but no additional charges. So, you’ll lose $1,500 total. That’s fine.

Please cancel. Done. Good luck with everything.

Lost $750 of my money, $750 of Emily’s money. Also worth it. The photographer.

This one was Emily’s parents’money. I called them first. Hi, Richard.

It’s Nathan. Nathan, how’s the wedding planning? That’s actually why I’m calling.

Emily asked for a break so she could date other people before the wedding. Long silence. She what?

She wants to date a bad boy to see if I’m too boring. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve I’ve heard. I agree, so I’m canceling the wedding.

Good, I’ll call the photographer. Don’t worry about the deposit. You sure?

Nathan, you’re a good man. Emily’s making a mistake. I’ll handle the photographer.

Lost, $0 of my money. Emily’s parents lost $1,000 but insisted. The DJ, already paid in full, called anyway.

Hey, this is Nathan Torres. I need to cancel my wedding on June 14th. Man, I’m sorry, but I’m paid in full and the contract says no refunds within 90 days.

I understand. Keep the money. Lost, $1,200 of my money.

Couldn’t get it back anyway. The flowers. Hi, I need to cancel a flower order for June 14th wedding.

Last name? Torres. Okay, you’re 67 days out.

We can cancel with a 50% deposit refund since you’re over 60 days. So, I get $400 back? Yes, but the order is under Emily Zhao’s name.

She’d need to authorize the cancellation. We split the deposit. It’s $800 total.

We each paid $400. Can I cancel my half and get my $400 back? I don’t think we’ve ever had that request.

Let me check with my manager. Hold music. Okay, my manager says if you can provide proof you paid half, we can refund your portion.

I can send you the Venmo transaction. It shows I sent her $400 with flowers deposit in the memo. That works.

Send it to orders@pedalsandposies.com. We’ll refund $400 to the payment method associated with your email. What about her half?

That stays with the order unless she cancels. If she doesn’t show up for the wedding, she forfeits it per our policy. Understood.

Sending the Venmo screenshot now. Got my $400 back within 5 days. Emily’s $400 stayed on the order.

When the wedding didn’t happen, she forfeited it per their no-show policy. >> got refund. Emily lost $400, her half forfeited when wedding didn’t happen.

The honeymoon. This was the big one, $6,000 non-refundable through the travel agency, but I’d bought travel insurance for $420. Called the insurance company.

Hi, I need to file a cancellation claim. Wedding called off. I’m sorry to hear that.

Wedding cancellations are covered. I’ll need documentation. What kind?

Proof the wedding was canceled. Then you cancellation confirmation for example. I can provide that.

Perfect. Email it to claims@travelguard.com with your policy number. Assuming everything is in order, you’ll get a refund minus the $500 deductible.

So, I get $5,500 back? Correct. Thank you.

Sent the documentation. Got confirmation within 3 days. Refund processed within 2 weeks.

Lost $920. $420 insurance, $500 deductible. Got back $5,500.

Net saved $5,080 compared to losing the entire trip. Total financial damage, venue deposit $3,000, caterer deposit my half $750, DJ paid in full $1,200, flowers deposit my half $400, honeymoon insurance $420, honeymoon deductible $500. Total spent $6,200.

Recovered, flowers refund $400, insurance payout $5,500. Total recovered $5,900. Net cost $6,217 to $5,900 $370.

Plus Emily lost $750 and $400 flowers $150. Her parents lost $1,000 for but didn’t want me to pay them back. All told I got out of a wedding for $370.

The cost of clarity. The 2 months. Emily texted me after a week.

Hey, how are you? Fine. Miss you.

Okay, I’m seeing someone. His name is Dante. He has a motorcycle.

Cool. You’re being really mature about this. Thanks.

She didn’t know I’d canceled everything. The wedding was in 67 days, now 60, now 50. I didn’t tell her.

She’d find out. Her friends kept posting photos, Emily on the back of a motorcycle, Emily at some dive bar, Emily with a guy in a leather jacket who looked like he’d never paid taxes. Dante was 34, worked in between jobs, had a tribal tattoo sleeve, smoked American Spirits, thought the system was broken, man.

He was exactly what Sophia said Emily needed. Good for her. Meanwhile, I was living my best boring life.

I spent my time working on the house, painted the spare bedroom a nice sage green, fixed the fence, organized the garage, found things I’d forgotten I owned, read books, played video games, saw my friends. My friend Chris came over one night with beer. So, Emily’s dating a guy named Dante.

Yep. And you’re okay? I’m great.

You seem great. That’s what’s weird. Why is that weird?

Because your fiance is on the back of some loser’s motorcycle and you’re painting bedrooms. What else should I be doing? I don’t know.

Being upset, calling her, fighting for the relationship. Why would I fight for someone who doesn’t want me? That’s actually really healthy.

I’m a math teacher. I’m good at calculating outcomes. The outcome of taking back someone who asked to date other people before our wedding?

Divorce in 3 years. Fair. Want to help me organize the garage?

Sure. It was peaceful. Emily’s Instagram stories were less peaceful.

Every other day was Dante, Dante’s motorcycle, Dante’s art, spray paint on plywood, Dante’s deep thoughts, reposted quotes from Fight Club. Week four, she posted,”Sometimes you need chaos to find yourself.” Week five,”Nice guys finish last and I’m done coming in second place.”

Week six, she deleted both posts. Week six, she texted,”I think I’m ready to come home.” Okay.

That’s it? Just okay? What do you want me to say?

I don’t know. That you missed me. Did you miss me while you were on the back of Dante’s motorcycle?

That’s not fair. You asked for space. I gave it to you.

We should talk about the wedding. It’s next month. Is it?

Yeah, June 14th. Remember? Right.

Have you been handling the last-minute details? I’ve been handling things. Good.

I knew I could count on you. She came home the next day. Moved back in like nothing happened.

So, Dante and I broke up. Sorry to hear that. He was too chaotic, unreliable.

He forgot my birthday. Sounds bad. Yeah, I realized what I have with you is special.

You’re dependable, stable, kind. I thought I was boring. You’re not boring, you’re mature.

What changed? I got it out of my system. Sofia was right.

I needed to explore. Now I know you’re the one. Interesting.

So, we’re good? Sure. Great.

I need to call the venue and confirm final head count, and the caterer needs final menu choices. And you should call them. I will.

Tomorrow. Two days before the wedding, I was at school teaching calculus, derivatives. The kids were actually paying attention for once.

My phone buzzed. Emily. Then again, then again, then a call.

I stepped into the hallway. Hey. Nathan, what the [__] I held the phone away from my ear.

What’s wrong? I just called the venue. They said we canceled.

Oh, yeah. What do you mean, oh yeah? I canceled it about 2 months ago.

When? April 8th. The day after you asked for a break to date a bad boy.

Why would you do that? You said I was too nice. I decided to be bad.

This isn’t funny. I’m not joking. The wedding is in 2 days.

Was. Was in 2 days. Nathan.

What? Did you cancel everything? Yep.

Venue, caterer, flowers, honeymoon. all of it. Silence.

Then, the honeymoon, too? Especially the honeymoon. Got $5,500 back from travel insurance, though.

Thanks for pushing me to get that, by the way. Oh my god, saved $5,180 compared to losing the whole trip. The deductible was only $500.

Pretty good return on investment. I can’t believe you. You asked for a break to date someone else?

I assumed we were done. I didn’t say we were done. I said I needed space.

Right. So, I gave you space and canceled our wedding. Because why would I keep planning a wedding for someone who wanted to date other people?

You should have told me. You didn’t ask. You came back and assumed everything was fine.

You said, and I quote,”I knew I could count on you.” You were right. You counted on me to cancel everything.

Mission accomplished. This is insane. This is what happens when you ask a nice guy to be bad.

Congratulations. You got your wish. People are flying in.

My family is coming from California. You should probably call them. What am I supposed to say?

Tell them the truth. You dumped your fiance to date a 34-year-old with a tribal tattoo sleeves, so he canceled the wedding. They’ll understand.

I hate you. Cool. But hey, at least I’m not boring anymore.

She hung up. Called back 5 minutes later, crying. Nathan, please, can we fix this?

Fix what? The wedding. Can we rebook everything?

Sure. Feel free. I don’t have the money.

You took the deposits. I forfeited the deposits. That money’s gone.

So, what do I do? I don’t know. Maybe Dante has a solution.

Does he own a banquet hall? I’m not with Dante anymore. Then I guess you’re single.

We’re not broken up. Emily, you asked for a break to date another man. I canceled our wedding.

We are absolutely broken up. You never said that. I didn’t think I needed to.

You wanted to see what else was out there. I gave you the freedom to do that permanently. I didn’t mean permanently.

Should have clarified. I hate you. That’s fair, but you also said I was boring.

So, really, you should be thanking me. This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. She hung up again.

Her friends started texting me. Sophia, you’re an [__] Me, I’m a bad boy now. Isn’t that what you wanted?

Megan, Emily is devastated. She was pretty happy on the back of Dante’s motorcycle. You’re petty and vindictive.

Me, I’m decisive. Big difference. Emily’s parents called.

Nathan, we heard what happened. Yeah, good for you. Really?

Emily made a huge mistake. You did the right thing. I appreciate that.

We’re sorry about the photographer deposit. Don’t worry about it. For what it’s worth, we always liked you.

We think our daughter is an idiot. Thanks, Richard. The aftermath.

Emily moved out 3 days later. Went to stay with Sophia. Again, she posted on social media,”Sometimes the people you trust the most are the ones who hurt you the worst.”

Her friends commented,”You deserve better, queen.” and”His loss.” and”Karma is coming for him.”

I posted a photo of my newly painted bedroom. Home improvement project complete. Feels good to finish what you start.

My friends commented,”Looking good.” and”Nice color choice.” and”Proud of you, man.”

A week later, Emily texted,”I want my half of the caterer deposit back.” Okay, $750, but I want my half of the couch. What?

We bought the couch together. $1,200. I want my $600 back.

Net, you owe me $150. That’s ridiculous. So is asking for money back after you cheated on me.

I didn’t cheat. We were on a break. Ross Geller defense, classic.

This is not Friends. This is real life, and you’re being We’re done here. She never mentioned the money again.

2 months later, mutual friends told me Emily and Sophia had a falling out. Something about Sophia encouraging Emily to explore her options, and then Emily realizing Sophia was toxic. Three months later, I heard Emily was dating someone new.

An accountant. Boring, stable, reliable. Apparently, she learned her lesson.

Four months later, she texted,”I’m sorry.””For what?””For everything. For listening to my friends, for asking for a break, for taking you for granted.””Okay.””Do you think we could try again?””No.””Why not?””Because you asked for a break two months before our wedding so you could date a guy named Dante with a motorcycle.

That’s not something I can come back from. People make mistakes.””They do, and people also experience consequences. This is yours.””You’re really not going to forgive me?””I already did.

Forgiving you doesn’t mean taking you back.””I miss you.””I don’t miss you.””That’s harsh.””It’s honest.””You used to be nicer.””You said I was too nice, so I changed. This is the bad boy version.””I didn’t mean””Yes, you did. You meant every word.

You just didn’t think there would be consequences.” She didn’t respond. Six months later, I met someone new.

Her name is Rachel. She’s a librarian, makes $47,000 a year, drives a 12-year-old Honda Civic, thinks my Camry is fancy. We went to dinner, split the check.

She didn’t take photos for Instagram. She didn’t mention bad boys or edge or excitement. We talked about books.

She’s reading Dostoevsky. I’m reading Vonnegut. We argued about whether science fiction counts as real literature.

It was the best date I’d had in years. On our third date, I told her about Emily.”So, your fiance asked for a break to date a bad boy, and you canceled the wedding without telling her?””Yep.””That’s the most passive-aggressive thing I’ve ever heard.””I prefer strategically assertive.” She laughed.

Did you ever regret it? Not once. Good.

She sounds awful. Her friends were worse. Were they the ones who convinced her you were boring?

Yeah. Were you boring? I’m a math teacher who drives a Camry and maxes out his 401k.

By objective measures, yes. That’s not boring, that’s responsible. There’s a difference.

Thank you. Although canceling a wedding without telling your fiance is definitely not boring. It was out of character.

Sometimes being bad is good, apparently. We’ve been together for 6 months now. No drama, no breaks, no bad boys, just two boring people who think stability is sexy.

Last week Emily texted me one more time. I heard you’re engaged. I’m not engaged, but I didn’t correct her.

Yeah. Congratulations. Thanks.

I hope she appreciates you. She does. I’m happy for you.

Thanks. Good luck with everything. You, too.

That was it. Final conversation. I don’t think about Emily much anymore.

When I do, I don’t feel anger or regret, just a vague sense of relief, like I dodged something. Rachel and I are taking things slow. No wedding talk, no pressure, just dinner, books, and the occasional debate about whether Vonnegut was better than Dostoevsky.

He wasn’t, but I enjoy arguing about it. Life’s good. Turns out being bad one time was enough.

Now I’m back to being nice, but the kind of nice that has boundaries. The kind of nice that knows when to walk away. The kind of nice that doesn’t tolerate being someone’s backup plan.

Emily wanted a bad boy. I gave her bad boy behavior for one day. Turned out she didn’t like it.

Funny how that works.