Chapter 2 of Loving Her Was My Only Mistake

I walked across the bridge alone.

I couldn't stop the memory that kept surfacing—the rush I'd felt when I accidentally stumbled onto Samantha's proposal plan.

The stylist had been booked a month in advance. The suit and dress shirt were ordered through a personal shopper.

I usually spent a few hundred dollars on clothes at most, but I'd gritted my teeth and dropped three months' salary.

When the day finally came, I was so wound up I didn't sleep a wink.

I leaned back against the headboard, unable to stop picturing the look on Samantha's face when she proposed.

She was always so composed, so self-possessed. I wondered if she'd stumble over her words, or if the tips of her ears would go red.

But whatever happened, I would take the ring, pull her into my arms.

And then I'd say it, loud and clear:

"I do!"

If the sunset over the river hit just right.

If the light poured over us the way it did in the movies, gilding our silhouettes in gold.

And if some passerby happened to capture the moment.

I'd make it the cover of our wedding album, hang it in the most eye-catching spot in the home we'd build together.

The more I imagined it, the harder it got to keep the smile off my face. A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

"Honk—"

A car horn dragged me back to reality.

Now I stood in a shirt torn ragged, dusty shoe-prints stamped across it.

Walking alone under the night sky.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Samantha.

【Edgar, I'm sorry.】

I stopped walking.

【But let's just go along with it for now. Mike already said yes in front of everyone. Don't make things awkward for him.】

【I'll explain to everyone later that it was a Truth-or-Dare penalty.】

Just a few lines. I stared at them for a long time.

But I wasn't surprised.

From the second Samantha called out the wrong name, I'd known exactly what she would do.

Just like on Valentine's Day, when the dozen red roses she'd had sent to the office landed in Mike's hands by mistake.

When I went to take them back, she pressed my hand down, gently.

"Sorry, Edgar. I wrote the wrong recipient by accident."

"Just let Mike keep them. Taking them back in front of this many people would embarrass him."

A message popped up in the retreat group chat.

【Director Mason's treating everyone to an engagement dinner—meet in the second-floor restaurant of the hotel!】

Not a last-minute decision. Part of the proposal plan.

Since she'd proposed to the wrong man, then everything would just go along with the mistake and go to Mike.

That was always how Samantha did things.

Someone had snapped a photo of the table.

The hotel's top-tier banquet spread. The main dish was king crab.

I'm allergic to shellfish. Samantha could never seem to remember that.

But it happened to be Mike's favorite.

Maybe this was fate steering her back onto the right track.

I closed the message and pulled up the ride-hailing app instead.

Whatever happened, I chose to walk away.

I went back to the apartment alone.

I pushed open the door, and the first thing I saw was the couple's photo on the cabinet by the entryway.

My steps stalled for a beat.

Samantha hated having her picture taken. It had taken me forever to wear her down for this one.

I remembered the day we moved into this place, holding the photo and pacing around, trying it in every spot.

Samantha watched me, indifferent.

"It's just a photo. What does it matter where you put it?"

I turned and shook my head at her, dead serious.

"No. I want it to be the first thing everyone sees the moment they walk in!"

The spot on the entryway cabinet, close to the door, was the place I'd chosen after careful thought.

Open the door, and the hallway light would fall on it first.

A little proclamation of just how happy the person who lived here was.

It was also my only comfort coming home after working late into the night, all so I could put down roots in this city.

But was I really happy?

I picked up the frame, running my fingers over it inch by inch.

Even in a couple's photo, Samantha still wore that cold, composed, doll-pretty face.