I figured we should at least have a clean ending. Something real.
So I opened the couple-tracking app we hadn’t used in years and followed the location pin to the city's biggest hotel.
The entire ballroom was drowned in red and pink roses.
A giant LED screen looped a montage of the past six years of my life with Arianne—photos, clips, moments I had nearly forgotten.
But the person at the center of the room wasn’t me.
Onstage, Arianne was down on one knee, holding a ring box open toward a sharply dressed Hudson.
Of course, she was the one proposing.
It fit her perfectly—loud, dramatic, center stage, needing the spotlight on her terms.
“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.
A pair of men’s underwear, clearly worn, lay on the seat.
Arianne snatched it up immediately and tossed it to the ground, her words tumbling out in a rush.
“Hudson got his clothes dirty yesterday, so he used my car to change. Nothing happened.”
At that point, the only thing on my mind was catching my flight.
I answered casually, “Okay, just drop me at the mall. I want to buy a watch to go with my suit.”
She looked like she intended to follow me inside, but her phone rang before she could move. She answered, and Hudson’s voice came through clearly.
“Arianne, there’s a small issue with the venue…”
She paused, then turned back to me with a smile that looked almost rehearsed.
“Clyde, something came up at the company. I need to handle it.”
She softened her tone. “It’s our sixth anniversary today. I planned a surprise for you, so once you get your watch, come to the Caesar Grand Hotel.”
I nodded, turned away, and slipped my hand into my duffel bag, double-checking that my passport and ID were still there.
A moment later, she called after me again.
“Clyde...”
The mall’s broadcast announcement swallowed her voice, and I didn't catch what she said.
I simply lifted a hand in a small wave.
'Arianne, goodbye...'
