Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Tenth Engagement Party, and My Boyfriend Let Me Down All Over Again

He had his dream girl. And this time, I didn't love him anymore.

By the time I finally let someone new into my heart, my boyfriend was the one full of regret.

At my tenth engagement party, my boyfriend still didn't hand me the ring.

Ten years of dating. Ten engagement parties.

Every single time we reached the ring exchange, he was waiting for his dream girl to burst through the doors and stop the wedding.

He said only if she came to crash the engagement and he still chose to marry me would it prove he'd truly accepted me, deep down.

This time, I couldn't hold the question in any longer:

"If she never shows up to crash it, does that mean you'll never marry me?"

He exploded on the spot:

"I know Rosie still loves me. Of course she'll come."

"Besides, we've been together ten years. What difference does a ring make?"

...

This was my tenth engagement party with Grant Wilder―and the emptiest one yet. Even our parents weren't there.

Grant's parents were too ashamed to come. Their son had turned every engagement into a circus.

My parents couldn't take the humiliation either. They'd even warned me that if I didn't cut Grant off for good, they'd disown me.

I thought: this is the last one.

Grant kept lifting his wrist to check his watch, eyes glued to the door. Waiting for someone.

I knew exactly who. The officiant stood there awkwardly, gently nudging Grant to slip the ring onto my finger so this ceremony could finally be finished.

Maybe I was still clinging to one last thread of hope, because I didn't rush him.

By the time everyone in the room ran out of patience, Grant finally, reluctantly, pulled out the ring. My heart pounded. Ten years of waiting―I was finally about to be his for real.

"Grant, please don't get married, okay? If you marry her, I'll end it all right now!"

The ring had barely brushed my fingertip when Rosie Sutton burst through the doors.

She was dressed in white, pure as an angel, tears streaming down her face as she stared at Grant. And in her hand, plain as day, was a paring knife pointed at her own wrist.

Grant froze. And I caught it―just for a flash―the delight in his eyes. In that moment, my heart died. Honestly, it should have died a long time ago. I'd just kept forgiving him, over and over, for the sake of the ten years I'd given him.

"Grant, don't... don't go to her."

That sentence took every ounce of strength I had. I grabbed his sleeve, and there was begging in my voice.

I knew he would choose Rosie over me without a second thought. But I still wanted to try. If he'd hesitated―even for one heartbeat―I could tell myself these ten years hadn't been wasted.

He shook my hand off in disgust.

"Look at the situation! She's about to hurt herself, and all you can think about is a ring? What is wrong with you?"

Then he flung my hand away and ran straight to Rosie without a single glance back at me. He knocked the knife out of her grip and swept her into his arms, holding her like something precious. He couldn't spare me even one look.

"Rosie. Let's get you home."

Rosie shot me a smug, taunting smile―then burrowed into Grant's chest and whimpered.

"Grant, even if you don't get engaged today, you will someday. Just let me die instead."

Even a fool could hear it: she was cutting off the last shred of hope this engagement had left. Grant, of course, heard none of it. He just kept soothing her, patient as ever.

"No. I won't get engaged to her. Not today, not ever. Come on, you're not yourself right now. Let's go home, okay?"

Rosie nodded, half-believing him.

And me? I was left standing dead center on that stage while our mutual friends stared. I gritted my teeth until they ached, and I shouted at their backs.

"Grant! If you walk out of here today, I will never forgive you!"

He didn't turn around. He just tossed one line over his shoulder, light as air.

"Don't be childish. A life is at stake."

I laughed―a bitter, broken laugh. I stood right there and let the blade twist through my heart. A life at stake? Please. It was Rosie who mattered. It was always Rosie.