He Ordered the Ring for My Best Friend, So I Left Him

On our seventh anniversary, Mike knelt with a velvet box. The proposal I’d waited seven years for was happening.

But when he tried to slide the ring on, it caught painfully on my knuckle. I bit my lip, forcing a smile as the metal bit into my skin.

Paige leaned in, tilting her head playfully. "Let me try?" she offered. The ring slipped down her slender finger, fitting as if tailor-made. She froze, eyes wide, tugging at it.

Mike caught her wrist gently. "Don’t force it," he murmured, tender. "Keep it—it fits perfectly."