She Regretted It When I Got Engaged

My girlfriend, Odessa Wilkerson, had secretly planned a dazzling fireworks display, and I naively thought it was a surprise meant for me.

Inspired by what I believed was her romantic gesture, I bought a ring, ready to propose on that very day.

But my excitement turned to confusion when, instead of receiving a heartfelt surprise, she handed me a plane ticket—a solo trip she’d planned for me without any prior discussion.

Canceling the flight, I went to the fireworks site instead.

Amid the vibrant lights of the fireworks, Odessa stood with another man, locked in a passionate kiss. They looked like a couple straight out of a fairytale, illuminated by the glow of explosions painting the sky. Tears of joy streamed down their faces as if they were celebrating a love they couldn’t contain.

Later that evening, scrolling through social media, I stumbled upon the man’s post: “Fireworks fade, but her love for me will forever burn bright!”  

The comments were filled with blessings, congratulating their love, while I lay shattered, struck by the drone she had been operating. Losing my footing, I plummeted from the mountaintop.  

When I regained consciousness, Odessa was sitting by my hospital bed, immersed in her phone with a radiant smile lighting up her face.  

“Who was that?” I asked weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked up, startled, quickly suppressing her smile as though she had just remembered something serious. “It’s good to see you awake. I’m your neighbor. Get well soon.”

Before I could respond, she hurried out of the room. Turning away from the door, I reached for my phone.

“Leah,” I said, addressing my older sister, “about that arranged marriage you mentioned before—I’m ready to go through with it.”  

——

My sister was stunned. After confirming I wasn’t joking, her voice brimmed with relief.  

There was a long pause on the other end before Leah replied, her voice a mix of surprise and relief. “It’s about time you moved on! A girlfriend who keeps you in the shadows for five years? She was never serious about staying.”

“When can you come back? The family you declined before hasn’t given up hope for the arrangement.”

I had spent five years with Odessa, staunchly refusing to believe she was hiding our relationship just to keep her options open. But now that she was going to great lengths to distance herself from me, I had my answer. It was time for me to walk away.  

“Soon,” I said. “Let me sort out my place first. I’ll leave as soon as I sell the house.”  

Unexpectedly, Odessa returned to the ward in haste, claiming she needed her car keys.  

“Sell? Who’s selling what?” she asked, pausing briefly to listen to a voice message.  

The house we shared had been combined into one. Selling it would require separating the units again, but I hadn’t planned on hiding it from her.  

However, she didn’t seem to catch my words, too immersed in listening to her voice messages. She grabbed her keys and casually said, “The doctor said you might have memory loss. I thought you really forgot everything.”  

Her tone turned accusatory. “You didn’t give me a heads-up before showing up at the fireworks site. You know that gave me the feeling of being ambushed!”  

Her bold deflection left me speechless.  

So this was why, when I first woke up in the hospital, she feigned aloofness and pretended we weren’t close, even though no one else was around.  

Ten minutes earlier, when she told me she was just my “neighbor,” her expression was detached, as if showing polite concern for a stranger. No guilt.  

But then again, maybe she did feel guilty about what happened on the mountaintop. Otherwise, she wouldn't have lost control of the drone and caused it to fall on my head. At first, I thought her haste to leave was because she didn’t know how to face me.  

What a joke. She didn’t care about me at all.  

“Sorry, miss” I said, faking confusion. “My mind’s still a bit foggy from the fall—I didn’t recognize you right away.”  

She offered a vague response, keeping up her own charade. But when she turned to look at me, noticing my unusually distant demeanor, confusion flickered across her face. The man who had always clung to her affectionately, even in private, was suddenly acting formal and reserved. She scanned the room, ensuring no one else was around, then leaned into my embrace, attempting to soothe me.

“Leif, let’s not do this here,” she said, leaning closer and dropping her voice. “There are so many people around. Let’s keep pretending. You focus on recovering, okay? Once we’re home, I’ll make it up to you.”

I smiled faintly and gently pushed her away. “Please, keep your distance, miss. We’re just neighbors. You wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea, would you?”

She froze, puzzled by my reaction.  

In private, I had always called her affectionate names like honey or babe. But now, the cold detachment of miss was the only title I deemed fit for her. She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could persist, a doctor entered the room for rounds, forcing her to retreat into her indifferent facade.