Chapter 6: Kneeling For His Cruelty

On Saturday, I opened the package the property manager delivered, grabbed the ring, and drove to the beach house. The ocean always made ugly nights feel cinematic.

No flowers, no fancy gifts—just his birthday and a cheap ring to trigger exactly what I wanted.

That night, the party was packed. Music, money, people who thought they were the main characters—everything Carter loved.

Everyone who knew the inside story looked at me with strange expressions—pity, contempt, amusement. New York is full of people who cheer for a train wreck.

No one bothered to hide that they were just there for the show, eyes glued to me. I felt their stares like heat on my skin.

Carter was the same, except his face showed more conflict and reluctance. Even he didn’t seem to like the taste of the spectacle he’d ordered.

When the eight-layer cake was rolled out, I lit the candles and smiled at him. It was ridiculous, excessive, perfect for a man who measured love in grand gestures and brand names.

“Baby, happy birthday! Make a wish!” My tone was light, playful, every inch the girlfriend in the photo.

Carter gave me a complicated look and blew out all the candles in one breath. Efficient. Final.

He set his jaw and said, “Just getting through this evening peacefully is my biggest wish.” The line landed heavy, his jaw tight, a warning dressed up as a wish.

Too bad his wish was doomed. Peace had never been our thing.

The next second, I dropped to one knee, gazing up at him with all the affection I could fake. My performance was good enough to fool anyone who wanted to be fooled.

“Carter Voss, I love you. Will you marry me?” The words hung there, bright and heavy.

The room erupted in chaos. Phones lifted. Voices rose. Everyone became a witness.

Out of the corner of my eye, everyone in the know wore that ‘I knew it’ look. The glee was almost fluorescent.

Carter froze, standing rooted to the spot. He loved movement. Stillness didn’t suit him.

No one cheered or encouraged him to say yes—just a chorus of mocking laughter. The cruelty buzzed in the air.

I put on a perfectly timed embarrassed face. My cheeks flushed. My eyes got shiny. I am, unfortunately, very good at theater.

I looked at Carter in panic, hoping he’d help me out. It was the kind of irrational hope even smart girls have.

But Carter didn’t care about me, so of course he didn’t step in. He was loyal to his own legend, not to me.

He was silent for a while, then gave a faint smile—the kind that said, I warned you, his chin tilted up, eyes scanning the crowd instead of me.

“Before we started dating, I told you I had someone I liked, right?” He kept it clinical.

“I know, but you fell for me later, didn’t you? Otherwise, why would we date for three years? I think it’s time for us to get married.” I delivered the line like a plea, like logic could fix us.

Even though Carter never actually said he liked me. I’d built a castle on air.

Sure enough, he denied it. He didn’t hesitate.

“I never liked you. I thought you knew this was just a casual thing.” He made “casual” sound like a verdict.