The Ring in His Pocket, The Bride on His Feed Chapter 1

Six years. That’s how long I’d been with Sean.

So when I felt the velvet box of an engagement ring in his trench coat pocket, I thought, finally.

On my birthday, I was full of anticipation. I checked my socials, expecting a sweet post. Instead, I saw a photo on his best friend’s Instagram story.

It was Sean. He was walking into L’Amour, the most exclusive French restaurant in the city, with another girl on his arm.

I grabbed an Uber and raced there.

I stood in the entryway and watched through the glass. I watched him drop to one knee. I watched him propose to her. The entire restaurant erupted in cheers, chanting for them to kiss.

After saving up disappointment for so long, I didn’t scream. I didn’t storm in and make a scene.

I just quietly pulled out my phone and dialed my dad.

"Dad," I said, my voice steady. "I accept the merger marriage with the Sterling family. Let’s start planning the wedding."

* * *

Dad paused for a second, then his voice practically vibrated with joy.

"My sweet girl, you finally came to your senses! Marriage is about matching backgrounds, sweetheart. Tasting the simple life is fine for a while, but you can’t eat plain oatmeal forever. You deserve the feast."

"Mmhmm," I hummed, standing alone in the lobby of the restaurant.

Inside, Sean was embracing the girl amidst the applause. I felt like a wooden puppet, stiff and lifeless.

Dad heard the noise in the background. "When are you coming home? You need to meet the Sterling heir. Their side has been pushing for an engagement for ages."

"In three days," I said, watching Sean’s hands shake as he slid the ring onto her finger. "Let me wrap things up here. Then I’m coming home."

I hung up.

Maybe I looked too out of place, standing there like a ghost while everyone celebrated. Sean stood up, turned, and saw me.

We locked eyes across the room.

He looked surprised. He frowned, just for a second, then turned back to the girl and led her to their table.

Roses, vintage champagne, a live pianist playing a love song, candlelight...

In six years, he had never taken me anywhere like this.

I turned and walked away.

I knew the guys cheering him on. They were his "boys." The photo I saw was on his frat brother’s story. They all knew me. They knew I was his girlfriend.

But clearly, they all knew about her, too.

As I left, I heard them whistling. "Finally! A match made in heaven. True love wins in the end!"

I smiled bitterly. To his friends, I was the placeholder. She was the main character.

A sour taste filled my mouth.

Earlier today, discovering that ring felt like sugar. Now, it felt like swallowing glass.

I took a cab back to our apartment. There was a delivery box on the doorstep. A birthday cake.

The note on top was in Sean’s handwriting: Happy Birthday to my baby. Wishing you the best.

The delivery guy smiled at me, looking envious. "Miss, your boyfriend must really love you. That’s the most expensive cake on our menu. He even hand-wrote the card!"

I pushed the door open and dumped the cake on the table.

So, he remembered it was my birthday. He just chose to spend it proposing to someone else.

I collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the empty room. My eyes started to burn.

This apartment was full of us. But my boyfriend bought a ring and gave it to another woman.

Looking at that cake now just made me nauseous.

I sat there until the room went dark. Then, the door clicked open.