"Fuck off."
But of course, this only has my friend smirking, since me losing my temper means he's made his point.
"You can always check her social media," Julian's wife suggests. "At least you'd know what she looks like without having to meet her in person."
I make the right noises for Fleur's benefit, but the truth is, I already know I won't do anything of the sort.
Ever since meeting her, it's become impossible for me to even think about my betrothal without feeling I'm committing fucking adultery. I don't even know her name, but I already feel like looking up my own betrothed on social media feels like I'm betraying her.
Karma fucking bites indeed, and I now know that I'm just as weak, just as fucking human as everyone else. The only reason I had it so easy when choosing duty over personal interest was because none of the other things had mattered as much.
None of them had mattered the way she mattered, and now that I've learned my fucking lesson—-
You made Your point, God.
You made it loud and clear, so can You just show me what's the right thing to do now?