Can Tab Proposal? I'm Out

After the birthday party, Henry Judd helped Cecilia Cheape out of the mall, her gown trailing behind her.

The night air was sharp. Ever the gentleman, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

As they climbed into the car, Henry finally noticed me—standing there, hollow-eyed, stunned. He rolled down the window.

"Can you hurry up? You're moving like a grandma. No clue why you're mad this time. It was just a birthday party, not a proposal."

I let out a cold laugh, my gaze shifting to Cecilia, who was busy admiring the diamond on her finger.

"Didn't you say you were proposing today? You dragged me here just to watch you cozy up to her?"

Henry leaned against the window, smirking. Unbothered.

"Didn't I already propose? So, you getting in or not? If not, we're leaving."

I looked down. The can tab had sliced into my skin.

"So this is how little I matter to you."

I flicked the tab onto the ground, right under his car.

Cecilia frowned, tilting her head. "Lulu, are you actually mad? So what if Henry got me a fifty-thousand-dollar ring? It's just a birthday gift. Do you have to make it a competition?"

Henry fastened her seatbelt, then shot her a reassuring glance.

"Forget it, Cece. Lulu's always been like this—jealous over nothing. She's never gonna change. Whatever. If she's not getting in, we're leaving. Waste of my time."

Cecilia smirked at me before rolling up the window.

I let out a slow breath, frozen as I watched Henry's car disappear.

The disappointment was so heavy; I couldn't even wrap my head around it.

I'd thought the whole setup was for our engagement. But when I turned, the massive backdrop spelled out Cecilia's name instead.

Turns out, nothing I said ever mattered. But Cecilia? Every little detail about her, he remembered.

I'd arrived dressed to perfection, thinking I was supposed to be the star of the night. Turns out, I wasn't even part of the cast.

The gown I'd picked weeks ago, the ring I thought was mine—both belonged to Cecilia now.

I had actually pictured myself in that dress, standing in front of Henry as he held up a ring. I would've been so happy.

Instead, reality hit like a slap. All I got was a soda can tab.

So this is what five years meant to him—absolutely nothing.