Seven Proposals And One Final Lie

Lets get married. As soon as possible.

Jodie said it casually, picking at her sea bass as if she were suggesting we try a new coffee shop instead of upending our entire lives.

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. Over the last three years, I had proposed seven times. I had curated sunsets, rented out galleries, and whispered the question in the quiet intimacy of our bed. Every single time, she had found a reason to say not yet.

Jodie didn't look at me. Her eyes wandered to the window of the dimly lit restaurant, watching the Manhattan rain streak against the glass. "Im... Im two months pregnant, Mike. Its going to start showing soon."

I set my silverware down, the sharp clink against the china echoing like a gunshot. I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, but her face remained pale, strained.

"If I remember correctly," I said, my voice dangerously level, "two months ago, you were in London on a business trip. Alone."

She swallowed hard, her throat moving convulsively. When she finally spoke, the words felt like broken glass. "The baby... its my assistants. Jackson. That night in London, Id had too much to drink. I was lonely, I was stressed, and for a second... I thought he was you."

I felt a cold numbness spread from my chest to my fingertips.

"The doctor said if I terminate this pregnancy, I might never be able to have children again," she hurried on, her voice rising in a desperate pitch. "If we marry now and announce it immediately, we can tell the world it's ours. Once the baby is born, Ill send Jackson and the child abroad. Theyll be taken care of, but theyll never come back. Theyll stay out of our lives, I promise."

I looked at this womanthe woman I had loved for seven years, the woman I thought I knew better than my own souland for the first time, she looked like a complete stranger.

"Jodie," I said, the name tasting like ash. "Were done. The engagement is off."

1.

Her face transformed instantlythe vulnerability vanished, replaced by a sharp, jagged panic. "You cant be serious! Mike, think about the merger. Think about what our families have at stake!"

I pressed my thumb into the palm of my hand, using the physical pain to tether myself to reality, forcing back the burning behind my eyes. I met her gaze with a terrifying stillness.

"Fine," I said. "Ill give you two choices."

"One: We call off the wedding. You marry him, and you pay the exit penalties outlined in our pre-merger agreement. Every cent."

"Two: You deal with the pregnancy. You cut Jackson out of your life entirely. No contact, no 'abroad,' no traces. The alliance continues, but we sign a new prenuptial agreement. One that protects me from ever having to see his faceor yoursin my legacy."

Jodie froze. She looked at me as if I had suddenly started speaking a foreign language.

"Mike, listen to yourself," she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and burgeoning rage. "How can you be so cold? My health is at risk. Youre asking me to give up my only chance at motherhood. How can you live with that?"

I looked at her, the disappointment weighing more than the anger. "Youre asking me to raise another mans child as a lie to save your reputation, Jodie. And when I refuse, I'm the cold one?"

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing my hand. I flinched away.

"Mike, please. Its you I love. You know that. Jackson was a mistakea moment of weakness. I feel a responsibility toward the child, but theres no emotion there. None."

Her hand hung in the air, trembling. She let out a long, shuddering breath, the kind of weary sigh that had made me cave a thousand times before. "Seven years, Mike. We have seven years of history. Are you really going to throw it all away over one mistake?"

I leaned back against the leather booth, a profound exhaustion washing over me. "Do you remember the terms of our family pact? Our first childregardless of genderinherits the controlling interest in both the Blackwood and Wentworth estates. If I claim this child, if I put my name on that birth certificate, what happens in twenty years? Does Jacksons son run my fathers company?"

The question hit her like a physical blow. Jodie turned a ghostly shade of white.

"I can sign a waiver," she scrambled. "Ill make sure the child has no claim to the inheritance. It won't affect our future children..."

"I don't believe you."

I said it softly, but the words were final.

Jodie fell silent. In seven years, I had never doubted her. I had been her rock, her most loyal soldier, her most devoted lover.

I looked into her eyes and saw the ghosts of our youth. The night we got engaged at eighteen, my palms sweating as we stood on her parents' balcony. She had squeezed my hand and whispered, Don't worry, I've got you. The long nights in the university library, her bringing me lukewarm coffee while we pulled all-nighters. The two years in Paris during our grad studies, living in that cramped, drafty apartment where she tried to cook Coq au Vin and nearly burned the place down.

When we returned to New York, I thought marriage was the natural next step. The first time I asked, she said she needed to focus on taking over the firm. The second time, she wanted to wait until the Sterling acquisition was finalized. The third, the fourth... the excuses became more polished, more frequent.

On my birthday last year, the seventh time, she told me, Just a little longer, Mike. I want to give you the best version of us.

The "best version" turned out to be a child with her assistant.

"Give me a week," Jodie said, her voice barely a whisper. her eyes were rimmed with red. "One week to handle this. Give me one more chance to fix it. Please."

I looked at her. For the first time, the face I had worshipped for nearly a decade felt hollow.

"Fine. One week."

I grabbed my coat and walked out into the rain.

"Mike!"

She called after me, but I didn't look back. I got into my car and caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes were bloodshot, but my vision had never been clearer.

Suddenly, the weight of the last seven years felt unbearable. The alliance, the history, the woman I had built my world aroundit all felt like a bad joke. And I was tired of being the punchline.

2.

Three days into her "one week," it was my birthday.

The Wentworths had organized a gala. Investors, partners, and all the socialites within our orbit were there. Usually, this was the night Jodie and I would lead the first dance, the golden couple of Manhattan.

"Mike, where is Jodie?" my mother whispered, her eyes searching mine with maternal intuition.

"On her way," I lied, forcing a smile as I took a sip of vintage champagne.

As if on cue, Jodie swept into the ballroom. She looked breathtaking in a deep emerald silk gown, but the exhaustion behind her makeup was unmistakable. She hurried over, clutching my hand. "Im so sorry, Mike. Something came up at the office."

"Its fine," I said, instinctively pulling my hand back. I offered a practiced, empty smile.

A few of our old college friends crowded around us, grinning. "Hey, Wentworth! When are we finally getting that wedding invite? Were not getting any younger."

I remained silent.

Jodies smile wavered. "Soon. Were just waiting on Mike to say yes this time."

I looked at her, my voice colder than I intended. "I think I need a little more time to... vet the candidate."

The room seemed to dip into an awkward silence for a split second before the band began to play. Someone shouted, "Jodie, its the opening dance! Take your man to the floor!"

She smiled and nodded, but her eyes were glued to the phone in her hand. I caught a glimpse of the screen. A notification from Jackson. The messages were coming in like a barrage of gunfire.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, trembling. She didn't open them, but she was no longer in the room. Her mind was miles away, in a different borough, with a different man.

The music swelled. It was time.

I reached out my hand for her, but she didn't see it. Her face went pale as a final text flashed on her screen.

"Mike, I have to go. Its an emergency," she whispered, her voice tight with panic.

"Jacksons... hes not stable. Hes alone at his place and hes spiraling. Im worried hell do something. I have to go."

"Jodie," I said, my voice steady and quiet. "Its my birthday. The dance is starting."

She looked at me for two seconds. In those two seconds, I saw the choice being made.

"Im sorry. I cant let anything happen to him. Wait for me. Ill be back as fast as I can."

Then, she turned and ran.

I stood in the center of the ballroom, the air around me turning to ice. I could feel the weight of a hundred pairs of eyessympathy, mockery, delight at the scandal. I felt my mothers gaze burning with worry. I heard the frantic whispers beginning to ripple through the crowd.

I walked toward the microphone.

The music was still playing, the guests waiting. I smiled, the mask perfectly in place. "Change of plans, everyone. Jodie had a sudden crisis at the firm. The opening dance is canceled. Please, enjoy the evening."

I set the mic down and walked out.

The hallway was silent. I leaned against the cold marble wall and closed my eyes, taking a jagged breath. My phone buzzed.

Mike, I am so, so sorry. Please.

I replied with one word: Okay.

Dont be angry. Im arranging for him to leave tomorrow. Im not dragging this out anymore, I promise.

I looked at the message and let out a dry, hallow laugh. She had promised me a week. It was day three, and one phone call from him was enough for her to leave me standing alone in front of everyone we knew.

I didn't believe in "waiting" anymore. I had done enough of it for a lifetime.

When I got home after midnight, my mother was waiting in the library.

"What is going on with her, Mike? Leaving you like that in front of everyone?"

I sat down and poured myself a glass of water, my hands perfectly still. "Mom. I want to change the merger partner."

My mother froze. "What?"

I looked her in the eye. "The Rossi family in San Francisco. Their daughter, Camilledidn't they express interest in a partnership last year? I want to move forward with them."

My mother studied me for a long time, searching for a crack in my resolve. Finding none, she sighed. "Are you sure about this?"

"Ive never been surer of anything."

My phone buzzed againa wall of texts from Jodie. I didn't open them. The name that used to make my heart skip a beat was now just a series of pixels on a screen.

Seven years. It was time to walk away.

3.

On the fifth day, I didn't get Jodies "resolution." Instead, I got Jackson.

I dont know how he found my private address, but he was standing at my door, his eyes swollen and bloodshot.

"Mr. Wentworth... please..."

The moment I opened the door, he dropped to his knees.

"Please, the baby is innocent. The doctors said if Jodie goes through with it, she might never have another chance. You cant let her do it..."

He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. He looked so youngbarely twenty-two, a kid who hadn't been hardened by the world yet.

"I dont want anything," he sobbed. "No money, no title. I just want Jodie to be able to have our child..."

I looked down at him, feeling a strange sense of pity mixed with revulsion. "Get up."

"I won't! Not until you promise!" his voice turned shrill, his fingers digging into my sleeves. "Jodie told me how much you love her. If you love her, how can you be this cruel? How can you kill her baby?"

His nails scratched my skin. It stung.

Before I could say a word, a car screeched into the driveway. Jodie blurred past me, hauling Jackson to his feet, shielding him behind her like a protective wall. She turned to me, her eyes flashing with indignant fury.

"Mike! If youre angry, take it out on me. Leave him alone!"

Time seemed to stop.

I slowly pulled my arm back, looking at the red welts Jacksons nails had left on my wrist. The last crumbling pillar of my love for her finally collapsed.

There she wasthe princess guarding her knight. And there he was, cowering behind her like a wounded pup. They looked... right together.

A sharp pang hit my chest, but it was brief.

"Jodie," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Look at you. Youve already made your choice. In your heart, he and that baby are the ones who need protecting. Not our legacy. Not me."

"No!" she cried, stepping toward me. I stepped back. "Mike, Im pregnant, Im not thinking straight! He was scared, he came here because he was spiraling... I was just afraid hed hurt himself"

Behind her, Jackson let out a small, broken sob. Instinctively, Jodie turned her head to check on him.

That lookthat split-second flash of genuine, instinctive concernwas the final blow.

"Im going to have to ask you both to leave," I said. "If you stay any longer, I might say something well all regret."

Jodie grabbed my arm. "Mike! Talk to me. Well call our parents, well sit down, well fix this"

I shook her off. "Theres nothing left to fix. I told you everything I had to say the other night. Take him and go."