My Boyfriend Proposed To Another Woman

I sat frozen on the bed and realized who Vincent Davidson was referring to when he mentioned "her" after a long moment.

Recently, I heard that his family had been pressuring him into blind dates, and he had met a wealthy and beautiful woman.

Vincent had always been the type to resist pressure and stand his ground. So I assumed he was just going through the motions, even though his family kept forcing him.

But now, the sparkling diamond ring stung my eyes with its brilliance.

"Are you... getting married?" I asked.

"Yes," Vincent nodded. He casually grabbed his pants and put them on. "So I won't be here anymore from now on."

At that moment, a ray of sunlight streamed through the window and hit the ring.

It seemed even more dazzling in my eyes.

It was so bright that it made my head spin.

I turned away with my back to him. I struggled to keep my voice calm. "And the things you left here, I..."

"Throw them away," Vincent said. He was fully dressed, and his voice was calmer than mine. "Just get rid of all of them."

He sounded relaxed, but I could sense that he was eager to sever ties with me.

He didn't want anything left in this apartment, including me.

My eyes stung with tears, but I managed a smile. "Okay. It would be a hassle to pack everything up anyway."

Vincent rented this place, and it was empty when we first moved in.

I had carefully furnished it, slowly turning it into a home.

When we just lived together, I couldn't help but fantasize about our future together.

So I frequently added new items for him, although he often complained about the inconvenience. "If we don't live here, it would be troublesome to pack everything up," he had said more than once.

Back then, I wasn't upset by his words at all because no one knew Vincent better than I did.

He disliked hassle and would rather throw things away than pack them up.

I just forgot that time changed many things.

When we first dated each other, he had clearly told me that he wouldn't get married before he was thirty-five years old.

But he was in his twenties and had found the woman he wanted to marry.

Bitterness washed over me, and I sat dazed on the bed for a long while.

I snapped out of it when Vincent was fresh after he got out of the bathroom. He was about to leave with his car key.

I instinctively got up to see him off. As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back to give me a glance. "Helena, you'd better settle down at your age. Let me know when you get married, and I'll give you a big gift."

I clenched my fists tightly and forced a smile. "Sure. I will."

But after the door closed, I turned to see myself in the hallway mirror, and the emotions I had been holding back finally erupted.

I collapsed to the floor, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed uncontrollably. Suddenly, I heard a rumble of thunder, followed by a torrential downpour.

I remembered Vincent had left without an umbrella, so I hastily wiped my face and rushed out with one in my hand.

The elevator was in use, and I didn't have the patience to wait. So I dashed into the stairwell and took the stairs.

It wasn't far from the seventh floor to the ground, and I would rush down in a few minutes.

But in my haste, I missed a step and tumbled down.

Strangely, I felt no pain. I gritted my teeth as I got up. I didn't even put on my shoes before sprinting out of the apartment building.

Just as I got out, a pink car drove past me.

Vincent was in the passenger seat. He was gently patting the shoulder of the woman beside him. He was so tender, which I had never seen before.

At that moment, he seemed to sense my presence and turned his head. He met my gaze through the car window.

He frowned slightly and looked unhappy. He seemed to be annoyed after he saw me chasing after him.

But he just gave me a glance before he turned his gaze away. He was expressionless and didn't seem to know me.

I smiled bitterly and tightened my grip on the umbrella.

The rain poured down, and I stood there, letting it soak me in the hope that it could wash away my lingering shame.