My Lost Blooming Season

I glanced back at the empty, quiet restaurant.

The chocolate cake I’d spent all afternoon baking had already begun melting under the soft lights.

I spent two full months planning every detail for tonight.

Yet, James wasn’t picking up his phone.

I pulled out my phone and dialed his number one more time.

After two rings, his deep, gentle voice came through the speaker.

“Diana will be back in town tonight. I have to pick her up, so I’ll be home late.”

I held the phone to my ear, staring through the floor-to-ceiling glass at the two figures across the street.

A tight lump formed in my throat.

Before I could say a word, the line went dead.

He didn’t give me a chance to protest.

He had completely forgotten that tonight was our fifth anniversary.

My phone vibrated again. Another text came from the unknown number.

“Remember how you used to joke about who he would choose if he had to pick between you two?

“He was lying to you every single time.”

I took a sharp breath.

Pain shot through my chest like needle pricks.

The restaurant manager walked up to me, stepping softly.

“Miss Shaw? Everything is set for the proposal. When would you like to start?”

I turned to face her, forcing my voice to stay level.

“Cancel it. I’ll pay the full fee. Just tear it all down.”

After all, the woman he wanted to marry wasn't me.

James and I had been together for five years.

For three of those years, I had been waiting for him to settle down.

We used to talk about our future, our home, our kids.

But every time I brought up marriage, he brushed it off with excuses.

I thought I was putting too much pressure on him. I thought he was just nervous.

So, I decided to take the lead and propose to him tonight.

Turned out, I was just fooling myself.

The manager gave me a look of deep pity, but she quietly signaled her staff to clear the floor.

I sat alone in the empty restaurant.

Only the chocolate cake remained on the table.

I baked it myself. It was his favorite flavor, not mine.

I stared at it for a long time, then picked up the knife and cut a large slice.

The rich chocolate melted on my tongue, but it tasted bitterly sweet.

I kept forcing forkfuls into my mouth, one after another.

By the time I finished the slice, tears were trickling down my cheeks.

I didn't know how long I cried.

When my senses finally returned, I pushed myself up from the chair.

My legs were completely numb. I had to hold onto the edge of the table for a long moment just to keep my balance.

I looked out the window toward the jewelry store across the street.

The lights were off. They were gone.

---

I dragged my exhausted body back to our apartment.

The living room lights were on.

Laughter drifted out into the hallway.

My hand froze on the door handle. Through the crack in the door, I could see everything inside clearly.

James was sitting on the couch, carefully peeling an apple.

Diana was lounging beside him, her arm resting casually across his lap.