
In the eighth year of our relationship, at my best friend’s wedding.
The guests in the reception hall started cheering, urging Cole to take advantage of the atmosphere and propose to me.
He held the bride’s bouquet and walked toward me.
My palms grew damp with sweat, and I took half a step forward to meet him.
Cole stopped in front of me, glanced at me, and gave a careless little smile.
Then he walked past me and went to Renee, the new intern standing behind me, before handing her the bouquet.
“It’s not easy for a young girl to come here and make it on her own. Take it for good luck. Let me lend you a little blessing.”
Renee accepted the bouquet with a blush, then gave me a timid glance.
The cheers died instantly.
The entire room fell into dead silence.
Cole turned back around and patted me on the shoulder.
“We’re practically an old married couple already. You’re not seriously getting jealous over a bouquet, are you?”
I looked at him, then took off the three-inch heels I had bought specifically to match his height.
Barefoot, I stepped onto the hotel carpet.
“I’m not jealous.”
I slipped the plain matching ring off my ring finger and tossed it into the side plate beside me.
“I just think this is all pretty pointless now. These eight years, I’ll just consider them wasted on a dog.”

