“Will you marry me? No matter sickness or health, poverty or wealth, I will never leave your side.” Her voice rang through the speakers, confident, emotional, rehearsed.
For six years, I’d imagined this moment in my own way.
My version was quieter, private—just two people choosing each other.
This… wasn’t that.
But it was exactly who she was. And maybe it had always been this way.
I just hadn’t wanted to see it, and now, it was happening before my eyes.
The first time she ever proposed, she did so to the man who showed up late and stole her attention.
Hudson Myers.
I placed a hand on my chest, waiting for the ache I thought would crush me.
Nothing came. No sorrow. No ache.
In the sixth year of our relationship, I finally understood with absolute clarity:
I no longer loved her.
As I watched the two of them embrace and kiss, my heart remained perfectly still.
Silently, I exited the venue as the final wave of emotion within me calmed into total serenity. The thought of saying goodbye now seemed pointless.
Arianne didn't come home that night.
...
At dawn, she finally returned to change clothes and pick me up for the event.
When I opened the passenger door, I froze for a moment.