Chapter 1

The spotlight at the concert's song request segment danced between me and my boyfriend, Ethan, then settled right on me.

I clutched the diamond ring in my pocket. It was the signal I'd pre-arranged with the organizers. During the request segment, I was going to propose to Ethan.

I held the mic, looking at Ethan beside me.

Just as I was about to speak, he snatched the mic right out of my hand. Then, he turned and handed it to Ashley, his assistant, who was sitting beside him.

"This is Ashley's first concert, Keira. Why don't you let her have the song request?"

Before I could agree, Ashley had already picked a love song.

Ethan started applauding.

I forced a bitter smile. Ethan didn't know this was the last chance I was giving us. I'd planned it all out: if the proposal failed, I'd leave this city.

The singer on stage paused for a few seconds, awkwardly cleared their throat, and started warming up the crowd again.

My best friend, Louise, was already fuming.

"What's wrong with Ethan? Last time you guys went to see the New Year's fireworks, he brought Ashley. Your birthday party? Ashley was there. And now the concert?"

Louise stopped mid-sentence.

"Keira, I didn't mean it like that… don't take it the wrong way."

I gave a weak laugh. She wasn't wrong. Ethan really did bring that assistant, Ashley, everywhere, always claiming it was "to handle work stuff whenever needed."

Louise lowered her voice:

"Everyone's already at the restaurant, the balloons are all set up. And then Ethan pulls a stunt like this, it's driving me crazy!"

She paused, "So, are we still waiting for him?"

I forced a smile. "Louise, no need to wait."

My fingertips touched the diamond ring box in my pocket, pressing painfully against my skin.

One carat.

I'd spent ages choosing the style. Back then, while Ethan was napping, I'd wrapped a string around his ring finger three times, then took it to the jeweler to get the size right.

For today, I'd contacted the concert organizers two months in advance and recorded a three-minute video.

Eight years of memories, all our friends recording heartfelt messages.

The very last frame was me, looking into the camera, saying those words. I'd recorded it seventeen times, just to get one where my smile wasn't shaky.

Ashley's chosen song ended, and applause erupted, mixed with enthusiastic whistles.

It seemed everyone assumed she and Ethan were a couple.

Ethan turned to glance at me, as if just noticing I wasn't clapping.

"What's wrong?" I said it was nothing.

When the concert ended, the crowd surged out.

He walked beside me, naturally reaching out to cup my shoulder, shielding me from the crush of people.

"Still sulking? Is it really that big a deal, just a song request?"

He looked down at his phone, texting, his tone casual.

"I'll book a private venue for you sometime. You can pick as many songs as you want."

"Sometime," "next time," "later." His three go-to excuses.

"Ethan." I stopped.

He didn't, walking a couple more steps before turning back.

"We agreed. Eight years, you'd give me a commitment. It's been eight years now."

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, glanced at me, and smiled. That familiar "here we go again" smirk.

"What's the rush? I'm juggling a bunch of projects right now.

Once the new year settles, I'll properly plan our wedding."

New year, another postponement. He'd said the same thing three years ago.

That was the first time I'd brought him home to meet my parents. The plane tickets were already booked.

The day before we were supposed to leave, his secretary said there was an urgent bid they had to rush. He canceled the tickets.

Back then, he'd said, "What's the rush? Meeting your parents is bound to happen sooner or later."

I flew alone, carrying two thoughtful presents. My mom asked where he was, and I just smiled, saying he had an urgent business trip.

The car pulled into the driveway and stopped. He turned, his thumb gently brushing my earlobe. The touch was light.

"I'll buy you that bracelet you liked tomorrow, as an apology. How about it?"

I tilted my head, avoiding his hand. He froze.

"Ethan, stop trying to smooth things over. I don't need it anymore."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, hitting the steering wheel.

"Alright, you're upset again. Go get some sleep, you'll feel better tomorrow."

He then glanced at his phone, muttering to himself, "Ashley says she left something at the concert, I'll go back and help her find it."

I calmly nodded. "Okay."

I got out of the car. Closed the door.

He stared at me from the driver's seat for two seconds, seemingly sensing something was off. But then his taillights flashed, and he drove out of the neighborhood.