During the request segment, I gripped the ring box in my pocket. Eight years together. Tonight, I’m proposing to Lucian Vance. The spotlight stopped on me. Sadie screamed in my earpiece. “Go!” I took the mic and looked at Lucian, face burning. He glanced at me, raised his hand, and took the mic. He turned and handed it to his assistant Chloe Reed on his other side. “The light hit her first. It’s Chloe’s first live show. Let her have it.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Gentle as always. Chloe took the mic, eyes wide, and picked a love song. Lucian clapped first. Sadie’s voice changed in my earpiece. “Chloe Reed again?” I almost laughed. Lucian had no idea. This wasn’t just a mic. This was the last chance I was giving us. In one week, the Sterlings would announce my goodbye. …… The singer froze for a few seconds, cleared his throat, and started warming up the crowd again. Sadie had lost it in my earpiece. “What is wrong with him? New Year’s fireworks, he brought Chloe. Your birthday dinner, he brought Chloe. Now the concert too? Is he dating you or babysitting the intern?” Sadie stopped herself. “Sera, that came out wrong.” I managed a laugh. She wasn’t wrong. Lucian brought his little assistant everywhere. He said it was for work. Sadie lowered her voice. “Everyone’s at the restaurant. Balloons are set, banner’s up. Just waiting for you two. Then he pulls this. I could kill him.” She paused. “Should we still wait?” I forced a smile. “Don’t.” What was there to wait for? The mic wasn’t even in my hands. I took out the earpiece and shoved it in my pocket. My fingers touched the ring box. The corner dug into my skin. One carat. I’d spent weeks on the setting. I’d waited until Lucian was asleep, wrapped a string around his ring finger, and took it to the jeweler. For tonight, I’d called the organizers two months early and filmed a three-minute video. Eight years together. Our friends filmed their blessings one by one. The last frame was me looking into the camera, saying the words. I filmed it seventeen times before I got a take where my smile didn’t shake. Chloe’s song ended. The crowd went wild with cheers and whistles. Everyone probably thought she and Lucian were the couple. Lucian glanced at me. Like he just noticed I wasn’t clapping. “What’s wrong?” I said nothing. The show ended and the crowd pushed toward the exits. He walked beside me, arm around my shoulder, keeping me from the crowd. “Sulking? Over a song request? Seriously.” He was on his phone, not looking up. “I’ll book you a whole show later. Pick whatever you want.” Sometime. Next time. Later. His three favorite words. “Lucian.” I stopped walking. He didn’t. Took two more steps before turning back. “We had a deal. Eight years, you’d give me an answer. It’s been eight years.” He put his phone away, looked at me, and smiled. That “here we go again” smile. “What’s the rush? I’ve got five deals going before year-end. Once things settle after New Year’s, I’ll take care of the wedding.” After New Year’s. Pushed back one more notch. He’d said the same thing three years ago. The first time I took him home. Flights were booked. The day before, his secretary said there was an urgent pitch deck. He canceled his ticket. He’d said the same thing then. “What’s the rush? I’ll meet them eventually.” I flew alone with two sets of gifts. My dad asked where he was. I smiled and said work came up. The car pulled into the garage and stopped. He leaned over and rubbed my earlobe with his thumb, barely touching. “I’ll get you that bracelet you liked, as an apology. Deal?” I turned my head away from his hand. He froze. “Lucian, stop.” “I don’t need it anymore.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow and tapped the steering wheel. “Oh great, you’re mad again. Go home, sleep it off. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He glanced at his phone and muttered. “Chloe left something at the venue. I’ll go back and find it.” I nodded. “Okay.” Got out. Closed the door. He watched me from the driver’s seat for two seconds. Something felt off. Then the taillights flashed and the car pulled away. I went upstairs alone. His jacket hung over the back of the couch. The collar still smelled like cedar. The balcony door was half open. Words were carved into the railing. He’d scratched them with a key the day we moved in. Crooked letters. A strip of paint scraped off. “Seraphina Sterling, one day I’m going to marry you.” He’d just closed his first round of funding. On top of the world. He picked me up and spun me around twice in the empty living room. “Once I’ve made it, I’ll give you the wedding of a lifetime.” I believed him. I waited eight years. Year one, he said the company was just starting. Give it time. Year three, he said they were expanding. He couldn’t leave. Year five, he said it was almost done. Next year for sure. Year eight. I stood on the balcony, tracing the carved words with my finger. Where the paint had chipped, rust had crept in. The ring box pressed hard against my hip. I took it out. Opened it. The diamond caught a bit of light from the living room and flashed. If he wasn’t going to ask, I would. Three months of working up the nerve. Calling the organizers, filming the video, buying the ring, getting Sadie and the others to set up the restaurant. And I barely touched the mic. The lock clicked. I put the ring away. Lucian walked in and tossed his keys on the console table. He saw me looking at the balcony railing and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so interesting? Come to bed.” I didn’t move. “Did you find it for her?” “Yeah.” He walked past me and started taking off his watch. “Lucian.” I stopped him. “It’s over.” His hands stopped for a beat. Then he scoffed. “Over a song request? Really?” “She’s never been to a live show. What’s wrong with letting her have a turn?” “I can’t have another woman around besides you?” He sounded tired. “Enough. I said I’d book you a show. Go to sleep. I have investors tomorrow.” He kept walking toward the bedroom. I looked at him walking away. “The Sterlings are hosting a dinner next week. They’ll make an announcement.” “After that, we’re done.”
Lucian stopped. He turned, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Seraphina, let me be clear.” His tone went cold. “Getting your family to pressure me into a proposal won’t work.” “You’re that desperate to get married?” “What do you mean ‘done’? Is that a threat? Or are you playing hard to get?” I didn’t answer. He had no idea this dinner had nothing to do with him. The Sterlings were going to announce that I was giving up my position as heir. That I was joining a classified federal research program. Eight years. After that, I would disappear. No public appearances. No trace. The dinner was the Sterlings’ way of closing the book. Telling everyone: Seraphina Sterling is gone. Don’t look for her. Don’t ask. But he took it for granted I’d always be there. His voice went low. Worse than shouting. “What did your idiot friends put you up to? It has to be this year? Right now? Do you know how busy I am?” Busy. He was busy. Busy on forty-minute “work calls” with Chloe at midnight. Busy memorizing Chloe’s coffee order but forgetting my allergies. Busy throwing Chloe a birthday party with a balloon wall. Calling her “the team’s little ray of sunshine.” His time, his attention, his care. All spoken for. Just not for me. “I’m in crunch mode. Three rounds of investors before year-end. Every step matters.” He pressed his fingers between his eyes. “What are you trying to pull?” “Calm down and think about what you’re doing.” He turned to leave. “Lucian.” He stopped. “You’re right. I am playing hard to get.” I looked at his back. “So. Will you marry me?”
Lucian didn’t turn around. A few seconds of silence. “Get some rest.” He walked into the study and closed the door. Something sour spread through my chest. I knew the answer. I asked anyway. Maybe eight years isn’t something you just let go of. But this was the last time. Late that night, I sat on the edge of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. A stack of pages lay inside. The corners had yellowed and curled. Two years ago I’d saved wedding photos off the internet and printed them. Venues, flowers, invitation fonts, vow templates. I brought them to him, beaming. He was on the phone. He mouthed “later” and waved me away. Two years. That “later” never came. My phone buzzed. Sadie was still angry. “Restaurant’s cleared out. Sera, the more I think about the concert, the madder I get. Three months of planning and he just…” “Sade, it’s fine. I’m leaving anyway.” The other end went quiet for a long time. “You’re sure? Eight years together, eight years gone. When you come back, nothing will be the same.” “Yes.” “You won’t even tell him?” “Sade, there’s nothing left to say.” Sadie didn’t speak. After a while, her voice came back thick. “I’ll keep the banner. Just in case…” “Sade.” “Yeah.” “Throw it out.”
Day four of the cold war. Lucian left early, came home late, went straight to the study. When we ran into each other in the living room, he looked at his phone and I looked at the TV. Nobody said a word. Like two strangers sharing an apartment. Sadie saw I was down and dragged me out to eat. “Stop sitting around. I got us a private room. Cry if you want, yell if you want.” We sat down. Laughter came from the next room. I knew that laugh. Sadie’s face changed. “Maybe we should go…” I shook my head. Chloe’s soft voice came through the wall. “Lucian, I still feel bad about the concert. The mic was meant for Seraphina. I should have known better. Maybe I should apologize to her?” “Nothing to do with you.” Lucian’s voice was flat. “I gave it to you. You took it. That’s it.” One sentence in front of a whole table. She was off the hook. But whenever I went to his office, he kept his distance. Said people talk. One of his friends kept going. “But Luce, I heard Seraphina had something planned that night?” A beat of silence. “I knew she was going to propose. Someone told me a month ago.” Same lazy voice. Sadie’s head snapped toward me. My nails dug into my palms. “You knew and you still gave the mic to Chloe?” The friend couldn’t believe it. “What was I supposed to do? The harder she pushes in public, the less I give.” “When she throws a fit, I play along. But marriage? She needs to learn that making a scene won’t work.” The friend sighed. “Still, eight years. Wanting to make it official isn’t crazy.” Lucian went quiet. “Of course I’ll marry her. But not because she made me.” “When I do it, that’s my call.” Another friend lowered his voice. “Honestly, Seraphina loves a scene. Always making it a big deal.” “Right. Chloe’s so easy. No drama. When has she ever given you trouble?” Chloe’s voice came through, sweet and pouty. “Don’t say that about Seraphina. She probably just loves Lucian too much. After all these years… she’s not getting any younger.” That last part. “After all these years.” Just the right amount of pity. Lucian said nothing. A round of knowing laughter. Sadie’s hand reached across and grabbed mine. Her fingers were shaking. I patted her hand, picked up my bag, and stood. “Sade, let’s go.” I pushed our door open and walked past theirs. Glasses clinking inside. Chloe’s sweet laugh. It was raining. The streetlights stretched a long wet line into the dark. I kept walking. I didn’t look back.
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