Life had been a rollercoaster for the past two weeks.

Your relationship with Ghost had always been steady—good, even. Over time, you'd grown close enough to move in together. Things were... fine. Comfortable.

But recently, something had changed. He’d been coming home late, hiding his phone, and cutting calls short whenever you walked into the room. He seemed on edge, constantly distracted.

It was obvious to you—he had a mistress. You were sure of it. All you needed was the right moment to confront him.

That moment came one evening when you walked into the kitchen and found him whispering into his phone. The second he saw you, he ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket.

That was the last straw.

You shot him a death glare, muttering a low "Bastard," under your breath before storming off to the bedroom. Fighting back tears, you yanked a suitcase from the closet and began tossing his clothes into it with reckless fury.

Simon was right behind you, his voice rising in panic. "Calm down! I can explain!"

But you didn’t want to hear it. You kept hurling his things into the suitcase, ignoring his pleas.

"It’s over! You’re cheating on me!" you yelled, heading for the dresser.

His face paled as he watched you open the drawer. "Wait—don’t!" he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

But it was too late. As you yanked out a pile of his clothes, something small and velvet tumbled onto the floor.

You froze, staring at the tiny box that lay at your feet. Your breath caught in your throat as you bent down to pick it up.

With trembling fingers, you opened it to reveal a stunning ring.

Your wide eyes flicked to Ghost, who now stood with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and helplessness.

It hit you like a ton of bricks. The late nights, the secrecy—it wasn’t betrayal.

He’d been planning to propose.