"Let's get married. As soon as possible."

Halfway through dinner, my fiancé Ethan Harrison suddenly spoke up.

My fork paused in mid-air.

Over the past three years, I had brought up marriage seven times. He had found seven excuses to put it off.

Ethan wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Isabella—my assistant—is three months pregnant. If we wait any longer, she's going to show."

I set my fork down.

"Your assistant is pregnant. What does that have to do with our wedding?"

His Adam's apple bobbed.

"The baby... is mine. I had too much to drink that night. I thought she was you."

"The doctor said her health is poor, and terminating the pregnancy could cause irreversible infertility. Charlie, she's twenty-two. Fresh out of college."

"We get married, you announce you're pregnant. When the baby comes, we claim it's ours."

"I'll send her abroad. You'll never have to see her."

I stared at the man I had loved for seven years. For the first time, I was looking at a complete stranger.

"Ethan," I said, "the engagement is off."

~~~~~

All the color drained from his face.

"Impossible! You know this engagement is tied to our seats on the board of directors."

I clenched my fists, fighting back tears to meet his gaze dead-on.

"Fine. Then I'll give you two choices."

"One: we break the engagement, and you marry her. The joint family trust agreement is voided, and our assets are split according to the prenup."

"Two: you clean up your own mess. The engagement stands, but we draft a new prenup."

Ethan froze.

He stared at me like I was someone he had never met.

"Charlie, are you listening to yourself?" His voice dropped, edged with anger. "Are you leaving absolutely no room for compromise?"

"Isabella is fragile. If you force her to get rid of the baby, what is she supposed to do with the rest of her life?"

I looked at him, the last shred of my patience dissolving.

"Ethan, you're asking me to raise another woman's child. So if I refuse, that makes me the unreasonable one?"

He stepped closer, reaching for my hand.

"Charlie, this was a mistake from start to finish. I never wanted to leave you. I don't feel anything for her."

I pulled away.

His hand hovered in the air. When he spoke again, he used that low, pleading tone that used to work on me every single time.

"We've been together for seven years. Are you really throwing everything away over one mistake?"

I leaned back in my chair, suddenly exhausted.

"Do you even remember the terms our families negotiated? We agreed our first child would be the primary beneficiary of the joint trust."

"Now you want me to claim this child. When he grows up, tell me, does he get the trust? Where does that leave our actual children?"

Ethan went completely pale.

Yet, he still tried to negotiate.

"I'll make him sign a waiver. He'll voluntarily give up all rights as a primary beneficiary. He won't affect our future children..."

"I don't believe you."

I said it quietly, but with absolute finality.

Ethan fell silent.

He probably never thought he'd see the day I would look him in the eye and say those words.

For seven years, I had given him my blind, unwavering trust. Until tonight.

I looked into his eyes. These were the same eyes that had been with me through my entire youth.

I remembered the day we got engaged at eighteen. He had held my hand and promised, "You're the only one I'll cherish for my entire life." Back then, I had actually believed him.

After we moved back to New York, I brought up the wedding time and time again. He deflected every single time. From "I need to focus on my career" all the way to "I want to give you the perfect wedding."

And my reward for waiting? His assistant was carrying his child.

Ethan finally broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper.

"Give me a week. I'll handle her and the baby. Just give us one more chance, please."

I looked at him.

His eyes were red. The panic was real now.

But looking at this face, all I felt was a cold disconnect.

"Fine. One week."

I grabbed my purse and walked out without looking back.

"Charlie!"

He called after me. I didn't stop.

It was raining outside.

I got into my car and looked at myself in the rearview mirror.

My eyes were swollen, my makeup was ruined, but my gaze was terrifyingly clear.

In that instant, the spell was broken.

This engagement, this relationship, this man I had loved for seven years.

None of it meant a thing anymore.