Chapter 3

I stared at that prop ring for a long time.

In five years together, Nolan had never proposed to me.

Whenever I brought it up, he only ruffled my hair.

"What's the rush? Someday, I'll give you the best."

I had waited five years for a proposal that never came.

Vivian got one first.

To everyone else, they were simply giving their younger selves the happy ending they had missed.

If I objected, I would look exactly like the homewrecker in the game—the third person who had barged between two lovers and refused to take the hint and leave.

After all these years, I realized I had never really escaped that forgotten corner.

Looking at their picture reminded me that Nolan and I had once taken couples photos too.

A couple next to us had been taking engagement pictures.

The woman had nestled against her boyfriend and happily told us they'd been together since college.

Seven years of dating, and they were finally getting married.

I had been so envious.

Nolan hugged me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Stop staring. We'll have that someday too."

I believed him.

So I willingly waited.

Year after year.

Those couples photos were still buried at the bottom of a drawer.

But we had never managed to replace them with real wedding pictures.

Sometimes, no matter how long a relationship lasted, it still went nowhere.

I turned off my phone and looked at him.

"Nolan."

"Hmm?"

"Let's break up."

Nolan stared at me for several seconds.

Then he chuckled and reached for my hand.

"Camille, are you trying to say we should stop being boyfriend and girlfriend and finally become husband and wife?"

His expression relaxed, amusement entering his voice.

"You want to get married, don't you?"

As if let's break up had merely been my roundabout way of pushing him to propose.

I moved my hand away and looked calmly at him.

"Yes."

"I'm getting married."

"You're getting married?"

The smile slowly disappeared from Nolan's face.

"Camille, there's a limit to how far you can take this. Our families haven't even formally met, and now you're talking about marriage?"

"I already talked to my family. They agreed."

His expression darkened completely.

"Something this important, and you told your family without discussing it with me first?"

My voice remained calm.

"There was nothing to discuss."

He struggled to contain his temper, but the patience from moments ago was gone.

"Meeting the families, getting engaged, planning the wedding—every one of those things takes time. You say you want to get married, and I'm supposed to immediately agree?"

I said nothing.

My silence only irritated him more.

"I know you've never had much of a sense of security because of the way you grew up, but you can't demand that I constantly prove I'm not going to leave just because your family never gave you that reassurance."

"You're threatening to break up over something this small and using marriage to pressure me."

"Is there anything I could ever do that would fill that hole inside you?"

The living room went completely silent.

In the past, those words probably would have hurt so much I wouldn't have been able to speak.

But at that moment, I barely felt anything.

He had crossed my boundaries again and again, then wrapped every offense in such reasonable explanations that I ended up wondering whether I was too sensitive.

And now he was blaming everything on my insecurity.

It was true.

I was terrified of being abandoned.

That was why I had forgiven him again and again.

But my tolerance hadn't made him cherish me.

It had only taught him that there would never be consequences.

I looked at him and nodded.

"You're right."

"I've always needed certainty when I make a decision. So this wedding is happening."

Then I walked straight toward the door.

Just before it closed behind me, Nolan's cold voice came from behind.

"Camille, once you walk out that door, don't expect me to coax you back like I always do."

My hand paused on the doorknob.

Over the years, he had coaxed me back plenty of times.

But this time, I didn't need him to.

I opened the door and walked away without looking back.

Early the next morning, Nolan went to work in a foul mood.

Vivian texted him.

"Did my post last night make Camille misunderstand? Should I delete it?"

He tugged irritably at his tie.

"It was only a game. Don't overthink it."

After replying, he opened our chat.

"When you're done throwing a fit, come home. We need to talk."

A glaring red exclamation mark appeared beside the message.

I had blocked him.