The 100th Proposal
But on that day, Isabelle didn't show up.
Instead, she was at a sold-out concert with her pet project, a young starlet named Asher Cole. A clip of them sharing a sweet, lingering kiss for the jumbotron camera went viral, and a new trending topic was born.
At the same time, I went viral for a different reason. The man who stood alone at the steps of City Hall for the one-hundredth time.
Everyone was guessing who the mysterious, unseen woman could be.
And they were all betting on how long it would be until I made proposal number one hundred and one.
When Isabelle finally realized she’d broken our promise, she was consumed by a rare wave of guilt. She swore to me that she would be there for the one hundred and first time.
But when she arrived at City Hall, a vision in a custom-made wedding gown, her phone buzzed with a text from me.
“Isabelle, there won’t be a one hundred and first time. We’re over. Goodbye.”
1.
I proposed to Isabelle Duke one hundred times.
And every single time I stood on the cold stone steps of City Hall, she would be somewhere else with her latest flame, making a spectacle of their new love.
Maybe it was an amusement park. Maybe it was a concert.
Once, it was even at City Hall itself, getting a marriage license just for the thrill of it, only to file for divorce the next day. A quick hit of adrenaline.
The one thing I dreamed of, the one thing I ached for, was nothing but a game to her.
I shut off my phone and sat on the curb, waiting for the car I’d called.
A long time passed. The car never came, but a call from Isabelle did.
The moment I answered, her voice, sharp and cold as ice, cut through the phone. “It’s late. Why aren’t you home? Don’t you think about how it looks, my fiancé staying out all night?”
“Where are you?” she demanded.
I said nothing.
The old me would have folded instantly, my voice soft and apologetic as I explained myself.
But now… now I couldn’t be bothered to speak.
A flicker of annoyance crept into her tone. “Leo, are you mute?”
“City Hall,” I said, my voice flat.
Isabelle went silent. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she finally, finally remembered the promise she’d made.
That after ninety-nine proposals at the steps of City Hall, she would appear on the one-hundredth and say yes.
But today, she had chosen to go to a concert with Asher Cole.
“I… wait for me. I’ll come get you.”
She hung up. I cancelled the ride.
Not because I had any hope left for her, but because the weather had turned. A sudden, heavy snow began to fall.
I stood on the corner, shivering in the biting wind. The abrupt cold was brutal on my phone’s battery; it died within three hours.
Isabelle never came.
The last thing I saw before the screen went dark was a new post on Asher Cole’s Instagram story.
A selfie of him and Isabelle in front of her car, her profile half-turned to the camera as snowflakes dusted her hair.
The caption read: “One snowfall together, a lifetime to go.”
In the reflection of the dead screen, I saw myself smile. A real smile. One of release.
On the day of our one-hundredth promise, she chose him.
As I waited for her in a snowstorm, she was making memories with him.
I had given her five years of my life, waiting for a single promise.
In the end, it turned to ash.
Isabelle Duke, I’m done waiting.
2.
That night, I didn’t go home. I dragged my frozen body two hours through the snow to the nearest hotel.
Isabelle didn’t send a single text. Didn’t make a single call.
The next morning, I was at the office early, drafting my resignation.
Isabelle was the founder of the company. I was just a business manager. I’d been by her side since she had nothing, yet even now, with her empire built, my presence felt just as insignificant.
If I vanished, she wouldn't even notice.
Just as my pen was about to form the last letter of my name, Isabelle appeared behind me.
I met her gaze in the reflection of my monitor, my expression placid, and calmly switched screens as if nothing had happened.
“What are you writing?” she asked, her voice crisp.
“Nothing. Just some client contracts.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and walked toward her office. “Leo, my office. Now.”
The moment I was gone, the office erupted in hushed whispers.
“It’s over for him. Leo’s about to get reamed out by Ms. Duke again.”
In this company, everyone knew Asher Cole was the heir apparent.
No one knew I was her fiancé.
In her office, Isabelle looked at me, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Is it really that big of a deal? I didn’t pick you up, so you decided not to come home at all? Are you trying to make a scene?”
I shook my head. “The snow was too heavy. It wasn’t safe to drive.”
It was the truth, but it was also an excuse. The real reason was that I never wanted to go back. I wanted to leave for good.
Isabelle didn’t seem to notice the shift in me. After a moment of silence, she said, “About the proposal… I accept.”
She slid an envelope across her desk. “Tonight. With me.”
They were front-row tickets to my favorite classical orchestra. I knew it was her way of compensating me, a transaction.
I thought about it, then took the tickets. After all, it was a debt she owed me.
Seeing my silence, Isabelle opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp ring from her phone cut her off.
She glanced at the screen and her entire demeanor changed. She left the room without another word.
I knew who it was. It had to be Asher.
He was the only one who could make Isabelle Duke drop everything.
Before I left her office, I printed my resignation letter and took it to VP Evans.
He looked at the letter, then at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Leo, you’re resigning? Is this because of Ms. Duke?”
I pressed my lips together. It was almost funny. They all thought I was leaving because I couldn't handle a scolding. They had no idea it was because my heart had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
When I nodded, VP Evans let out a long sigh and signed the form.
As I was walking out of the building, I ran straight into Isabelle and Asher.
The entire city knew he was her prized possession.
Isabelle’s eyes darkened when she saw me. “Leo, whatever it is, report it later.”
She started to walk past me, Asher in tow. As he passed, he shot me a look that was pure venom, a clear warning.
I said nothing. That evening, I went to the concert on time.
The hall was packed, every seat filled except for the one beside me. Isabelle’s seat.
In the past, I would have waited for her in the lobby, no matter how late she was.
This time, I went in alone.
The music was beautiful. By the time it ended, she still hadn't arrived.
I wasn’t angry.
My five years had already been wasted. What was one more broken promise?
Whether she ever saw my resignation letter or not, it didn’t matter.
My decision was made.
3.
After the concert, I didn’t go home. I wandered along the waterfront, watching the city lights glitter on the dark water.
The sky suddenly exploded in a cascade of fireworks. A brilliant, booming rain of light.
It didn't stir a single thing in me.
My phone, however, was blowing up. Not with worried texts from Isabelle, but with news alerts.
The fireworks were for Asher. A city-wide birthday present from her.
It was after midnight when I finally returned to the penthouse. The living room lights were on. Isabelle was asleep on the sofa.
Was she waiting for me?
For five years, it had always been the other way around. She’d come home drunk, and I’d be the one waiting up, calling her a dozen times, a pot of ginger tea ready on the stove to soothe her stomach.
She always told me she hated it when I did that.
She said it made her feel old.
The sound of the door must have woken her. She shot up, saw me, and rushed over, throwing her arms around me.
“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was about to call the police!”
I froze, then gently extricated myself from her grip and pulled out my phone. The screen was black.
“It got too cold. The battery died.”
The mention of the snow seemed to remind her. A rare look of guilt flickered across her face. She bit her lip, then awkwardly thrust a small, velvet box at me.
I took it automatically. Inside was a diamond ring.
For a moment, I was stunned.
How many times had I dreamed of this? Of Isabelle, standing on the steps of City Hall, holding out her hand for me to slide this very ring onto her finger.
But that was the old me.
Now, I felt nothing.
I closed the lid and casually tossed the box onto the coffee table.
“Thanks.”
Isabelle stared at me, her beautiful brow furrowed. She couldn’t comprehend my polite detachment.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I glanced at her, and a strange sort of clarity washed over me. I knew what she’d expected. She thought I’d gasp, that my eyes would fill with tears of joy, that I would forget all the pain and humiliation and fall at her feet.
A humorless smirk twisted my lips. I decided to give her what she wanted.
“Oh,” I said, my voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “Wow. I’m so happy!”
I looked her dead in the eye. “Satisfied?”
I thought that would be the end of it, but my sarcasm only angered her. “Leo, is this necessary? All I did was show Asher around the office.”
“And I already said I’d marry you. How long are you going to keep this act up?”
Her dark expression didn’t faze me. I just plugged my phone in to charge. “You’re mistaken. I’m not acting. I’m just tired.”
Her face tightened. For the first time, she seemed to register the profound, unbreachable distance in my attitude. She bit her lip and reached for my hand.
Just then, my newly-charging phone began to ring, a frantic, urgent sound that made her flinch.
It was him.
She looked at me, about to offer an explanation, but I spoke first. “You’re busy. You don’t have to explain. I get it.”
My understanding seemed to stun her more than my anger ever could have. She gripped my hand tighter, a desperate need in her eyes to understand what had changed.
But the phone kept ringing.
Finally, under my calm, steady gaze, she let go.
“The one hundred and first proposal,” she said, her voice strained. “I’ll be there.”
Then she was gone.
I went to my room as if nothing had happened, and had the best night’s sleep I’d had in five years.
Once my handover at work was complete, Isabelle Duke would never see me again.
4.
When I got to the office, my colleague Mike pulled me aside before I could even get to my desk.
“Leo, man, you’re in for it today.”
I looked at him, confused. I was already a ghost here. What trouble could I possibly be in?
Mike pointed ahead. My desk, my space for the last five years, was now occupied by Asher Cole.
He explained that today was Asher’s first official day. When it came time to pick a desk, he’d pointed directly at mine.
I walked over calmly.
Asher looked up as I approached, a smug, dismissive smirk on his face. “I like this spot. You can go find somewhere else.”
I looked at him and nodded. “Okay. I just need to pack my things.”
My lack of protest was misinterpreted by everyone watching. They saw a man defeated, bowing to the new favorite. No one dared to say anything, but the air was thick with their pitying glances and whispered comments.
I finished packing the last of my personal items into a cardboard box. Just as I was about to leave, Isabelle appeared.
Asher immediately rushed to her side, taking her hand. Isabelle allowed it, leading him to the center of the office.
“Everyone, this is Asher Cole. He’ll be joining our team starting today. Please make him feel welcome.”
A scattered, lukewarm applause filled the room. Isabelle didn’t seem to care.
“Have you picked a desk?” she asked him.
Asher immediately pointed. “I want that one!”
Following his finger, Isabelle’s gaze landed on my old desk, and then on me, standing beside it with a box in my arms. Her expression faltered.
“That spot is taken,” she said, her voice tight. “Pick another.”
To everyone's surprise, she had refused him.
But Asher was determined. He clung to her arm, whining like a spoiled child. “But Izzy, I want that one. It’s closer to your office. I can see you from there.”
I had no interest in watching their soap opera unfold. “He can have the desk,” I said, my voice clear and even.
I was leaving. What did I care about a stupid desk?
Asher shot Isabelle a triumphant look. “See? He’s fine with it.”
Isabelle’s gaze snapped to me, her expression unreadable but dark. She turned back to Asher, her eyes now cold as steel. “I said, that desk is taken. Choose another.”
The Isabelle who spoiled him, who indulged his every whim, was gone. In her place was a furious CEO. Asher was so stunned he didn’t know how to react.
The atmosphere was thick with tension.
Isabelle gave me one last, fleeting glance, then turned on her heel and stalked back to her office. Asher scrambled to follow her, but not before shooting me a hateful glare over his shoulder.
It was funny. I used to be him, always one step behind her, chasing a shadow.
The only difference was, I chased it for five years.
As I was heading for the door, my phone buzzed. A text from Isabelle.
[Tomorrow. The 101st proposal. I’ll be waiting.]
I smiled, blocked her number, and deleted her contact.
After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I walked out of that building for the last time. I went home, picked up my already-packed suitcase, and went to the airport.
The next day, Isabelle Duke, dressed in a stunning white gown, arrived at City Hall.
First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "255636" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
Bookworm« Previous Post
To Abandon the Wife and Keep the Daughter
Next Post »
The Angel He Burned