Chapter 1

The next time I brought up marriage, Lucas took my hand, his eyes dripping with affection.

"Elena, isn't what we have right now amazing? Aren't you happy?"

A familiar wave of helplessness washed over me.

I had accidentally overheard his mother telling him that dating me for fun was fine, but marrying me was out of the question—he deserved someone better.

And Lucas hadn't said a word to defend me.

That was the moment I finally made up my mind to walk away and never look back.

Later, he would drop to his knees, sobbing, begging me to marry him.

But the hand he tried to take was already wearing someone else's ring.

"Make sure you come to my wedding, Lucas."

We were sitting on the couch after grocery shopping, relaxing while a wedding scene played on the TV.

"When do you think we'll get to have a wedding like that?"

The envy in my voice was impossible to hide.

I had dropped hints before, suggesting that maybe it was time for us to take that step, to give each other a real future.

He had always dodged it, and every time, it took me a long time to pull myself out of the disappointment.

This time, he actually answered. But honestly, I wished he hadn't.

Hearing my question, he turned to face me and took my hands in his.

"Elena, aren't things great between us right now? Aren't you happy? As long as we're together, isn't that enough?"

Looking into his affectionate eyes, I usually would have melted. But this time, hearing those words, my heart felt completely dead.

Why couldn't he understand? I wasn't just asking for reassurance; I wanted a home.

Maybe the disappointment on my face was too obvious, or maybe my silence gave it away.

Whatever it was, he realized he needed to say something more.

"Think about how exhausting planning a wedding is. And after we're married, nothing's actually going to change between us, right?"

"Can't we just enjoy how good things are right now?"

He genuinely seemed baffled by why I was so obsessed with getting married.

"So what, are we just supposed to date forever?"

A deep sense of defeat hit me, leaving a bitter ache in my chest.

"What's wrong with that? Dating forever sounds amazing!"

And just like that, the truth came out. He had never pictured a future with me.

I used to make so many excuses for him. I told myself he wanted to build a better life for us first, or that he was just intimidated by the weight of starting a family.

I told myself it was fine, that I could give him time.

I never imagined the real answer was that I simply wasn't part of his long-term plans.

I couldn't tell if I was more heartbroken or disappointed, but I needed a moment alone to clear my head.

The second I stood up, he grabbed my wrist, refusing to let go.

"Seriously, why do you always have to push me like this? It's always the same thing—the minute you don't get your way, you shut down and walk off."

He kept one hand locked around my arm while scrubbing his face in frustration with the other.

Hearing him accuse me of pushing him made me freeze. I turned back in shock.

I caught the irritation in his eyes before he could hide it. His whole body practically screamed that I was being a nuisance.

I had never seen it so clearly before: this entire idea of marriage had been completely one-sided from the very beginning.

We had met at a mutual friend's wedding. He was a groomsman, and I was a bridesmaid.

He fell for me at first sight, chased me for six months, and eventually, we made it official.

Once we were together, he treated me like royalty. I never had to do laundry or touch the dishes, and dinner was always cooked and brought straight to me.

I had always been someone who walked on eggshells around others, but his pampering had spoiled me rotten.

"My friends say I'm getting high-maintenance," I had teased once, watching him gently wash my feet. "What am I supposed to do if you ever leave?"

Sweetness had filled my chest back then; to me, that was what pure happiness looked like.

Before him, I never knew someone could love and cherish me so deeply.

"Then you'll just have to stay with me forever," he had replied, drying my feet with the towel. The smile on his face under the warm lamp had looked so tender, so genuine.

"I'll keep you tied to me so you can never leave."

Yet this same man, who had spoiled me endlessly, was now glaring at me with utter annoyance just because I brought up our future.

"I'm... pushing you?" I asked, my voice cracking as tears stung my eyes. I dug my nails into my palms, using the sharp pain to keep from crying. "Lucas, you think talking about marriage is me forcing your hand? You think I'm just desperate to marry you?"

He knew me too well. Seeing that something was wrong, he immediately grabbed my hand and forced my fingers open.

When he saw the faint crescent cuts bleeding on my palm, his face tightened with anger.

"If you're mad, take it out on me! Don't hurt yourself. Sit down, I'm getting the antiseptic."

Look at that. A man who panicked over a tiny scratch on my hand had never once planned a life with me.

He pulled me down onto the sofa, and as I watched him carefully clean the cut, I felt completely lost.

What was love, really?

It was precisely because I could feel how much he cared that I couldn't just walk away.

Every time I felt exhausted enough to give up, his tenderness would pull me back. I kept thinking that maybe he just wasn't ready.

Maybe, if I just held on a little longer, we'd make it.

It was all wishful thinking.

His mother hated me, he had no intention of marrying me, and our ending had already been written long ago.

I had just chosen to live in denial.