By the tenth engagement party, Samantha Moore stood me up again.

I called her to ask what happened. What I didn't realize was that my phone was still connected to the banquet hall speakers.

A second later, the entire room went dead silent.

Soft, breathless moans spilled through the sound system.

Then Samantha's voice came on, shaky and uneven. "Caleb... my department planned a team hike today. We're almost at the top. About the engagement party... let's just do it another time. I have to go."

She hung up.

For a moment, nobody moved. Then the room erupted into chaos.

Gasps, whispers, and a few harsh laughs filled the banquet hall. Some people did not even bother hiding their amusement. Even the servers were glancing at me as if I were nothing more than a pathetic joke.

I had proposed to Samantha ninety-nine times before she finally said yes, and yet she had never once shown up to our engagement party—not once.

I stood there quietly, took the engagement ring from my pocket, and dropped it into the fish tank beside the stage.

After seven years of waiting, forgiving, and making excuses for her, I finally understood the truth.

I had mistaken my patience for love, and she had mistaken my love for permission to hurt me.

I used to believe that if I loved her enough, she would eventually choose me. Instead, every time I lowered myself for her, she only pushed the line further.

This was the tenth time she had humiliated me in front of everyone, and it would be the last.

From that day on, she was no longer part of my future.

The Last No-Show

Because Samantha never showed up, the engagement party ended in awkward silence and unbearable humiliation.

I returned the engagement gifts one by one to the guests as they left. When I reached my aunt, Linda Hayes, she shoved her gift back into my hands as if it had burned her.

"Just keep it," she said, her face pale with anger. "But don't you dare send me another invitation next time."

Then her voice began to shake.

"Caleb, I mean it. Don't drag my name into this mess again. I can't keep showing up just to watch people laugh at you—and at me."

After my parents died in a car accident six years ago, Linda became one of my few remaining family members.

She used to pity me. She used to defend me.

But after watching me turn myself into a public joke again and again, even she had finally reached her limit.

And honestly, so had I.

After the last guest left and the ballroom was nearly empty, I stayed behind to clean up the mess. A server walked over carrying a black trash bag.

"Mr. Hayes," he said carefully, "I couldn't find a bag that fit, so I had to put all the letters in here."

He glanced at the heavy bag in his hand before asking, "Do you want to take them with you, or should we keep them here for the next engagement party?"

I put out the cigarette between my fingers and stared at the swollen trash bag with exhausted eyes.

Inside were the ninety-nine love letters I had written to Samantha while I was pursuing her.

According to the original plan, those letters were supposed to fall from the ceiling during the final part of the ceremony, drifting down over the stage like confetti. It was meant to be romantic.

Now they were stuffed inside a garbage bag.

I gave a tired laugh and shook my head. "Since they're already in a trash bag, just throw them out with the rest of the garbage."

The server froze for a second, then nodded.

I had nothing else to say.

People always said, "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." However, Samantha had stood me up at our own engagement party ten times.

When I called her in a panic to ask where she was, she did not even seem to remember what time the party was supposed to start. Instead, she tried to cover herself with some ridiculous story about a work hiking trip.

The moment the call connected, those filthy sounds poured through the ballroom speakers. I heard a man on the other end, breathing heavily and groaning without the slightest concern for who might hear.

And even then, Samantha had the nerve to tell me she was "almost at the summit."

She would never understand what it was like to stand on that stage with all eyes fixed on me, feeling the shame of that silence and the cruelty behind the laughter people desperately tried to conceal.

She was the one who agreed to marry me. She had even helped choose the invitations. Yet somehow, I was the only one left to carry the humiliation.

Before I left the hotel, I heard a few servers whispering behind me.

"Do you think something's wrong with him?" one of them said with a laugh. "Maybe there was never even a fiancee. I mean, who pays a cancellation fee ten times for an engagement party that never happens?"

Another one snorted. "Hey, don't be mean. His fiancee was busy hiking, remember? I just want to know what kind of mountain she was climbing, because from the sound of it, she was having a great time."

Still Lying in the Rain

The servers' laughter slowly disappeared beneath the roar of the rain.

When I stepped outside, my suit was completely soaked. Mud covered my dress pants, ruining any attempt I made to look presentable because of the storm.

Passersby looked at me with strange, pitying expressions, as if they knew I had just become the joke of the night.

That was when my phone rang.

The engagement party was already over, and only then did the missing female lead finally decide to call.

"Caleb," Samantha said, sounding perfectly calm, "my team-building event just ended. I’m on my way now. Wait another half hour. I’ll be there soon."

She was already three hours late, and even now, she was still lying.

There was a thunderstorm raging around me, but on her end of the line, it was completely quiet.

I wiped the rain from my face and let out a cold laugh. "Are you really on your way here, Samantha, or are you still in some hotel bed?"

She went silent.

For a long moment, she stammered without managing to form a proper answer.

"The engagement party is over," I added. "What's the point of showing up now? Stay where you are and keep having fun with your boy toy. I'm not in the mood to listen to another one of your stories."

I no longer had even the smallest hope left for her. After saying that, I was ready to hang up.

Before I could respond, Samantha suddenly burst out, "I told you my company has a last-minute team-building event today, so I forgot about the engagement party. Can you stop making things so difficult for once? Just tell me one thing, Caleb—are we getting married or not?"

The more defensive she sounded, the more certain I was that I had hit the truth.

I did not hesitate.

"No," I replied flatly. "I'm not marrying you. Do whatever you want."

Samantha's voice turned cold. "Fine, Caleb. Just remember, you're the one who said it. Don't come begging me to take you back later…"

I didn't wait to hear the rest, so I hung up.

A few minutes later, a new message appeared on my phone.

It was from Ryan Cole.

I opened it and found a photo of a hotel room. A large bed filled the center of the frame, its sheets wrinkled and messy. Right in the most obvious spot, a piece of women’s lingerie had been placed where I could not possibly miss it.

I recognized it at once. It belonged to Samantha.

Ryan sent another message right after.

'Caleb, don't get the wrong idea. The company hike was exhausting, and Samantha and I were both drenched in sweat, so we got a room for an hour just to shower.'

Then another message came in.

'She's quite careless, though. She left her bracelet here with me. Should I bring it to you, or…'

It was the same tired act as every time before.

The last time, Ryan had supposedly suffered a sudden medical emergency. Samantha claimed she had missed the engagement party because she had to rush him to the hospital.

Her excuse had sounded serious enough, but I still could not swallow the humiliation. I got into a huge fight with her afterward.

The next day, she threw a hospital report in my face and made me look like the unreasonable one.

"Caleb, do you really think I would lie about someone's life being in danger?" she snapped. "All you care about is getting married. Does Ryan's life mean nothing to you?"

Then she gave me an ultimatum. "If this is how you're going to treat me, we're done talking about the engagement. I'm not building a life with someone this selfish and heartless."

I thought I was in the wrong.

I was so scared Samantha would get truly angry and cancel the engagement that I kneeled on the floor and wrote a ten-thousand-word apology letter. She even recorded the whole thing on her phone before finally forgiving me.

A week later, I saw Ryan sharing his discharge papers on Instagram.

It was just appendicitis—nothing life-threatening or as serious as Samantha had claimed.

The hospital report she had shown me was fake.

The Necklace

When I found out the truth, I went straight to Samantha and demanded an explanation.

My eyes were bloodshot with anger, but she did not look guilty at all. She did not apologize for lying to me, nor did she even try to explain herself.

Instead, she took out her phone and played the video she had recorded of me apologizing to her. "Ryan was sick. That part was true, wasn't it? So how exactly did I lie?"

Then she smiled and shook the phone in front of me. "Go ahead and make a scene. Tell everyone, if that makes you feel better. Once they see this video of you begging me to forgive you, they'll only think you're crazy."

She pushed me so far that I ended up hyperventilating and had to be rushed to the hospital.

Only then did Samantha seem to realize she had gone too far.

When I woke up in the hospital, she was sitting beside my bed, her eyes tearful and red, apologizing repeatedly. She promised to make up for the missed engagement party and said we would hold another celebration in a week.

She looked so sincere that I forgave her again.

Thinking back on it now, I couldn't believe how stupid I had been.

If Samantha had truly loved me, she wouldn't have hurt me and lied to me over and over again.

We had been together for seven years. I proposed ninety-nine times, and she made our engagement party a public humiliation ten times.

I had nothing left to give.

The only option was to cut her out of my life myself.

From then on, Samantha and I would have no further contact.

I looked at Ryan's message, but this time, I didn't explode the way I used to. I simply deleted the conversation and ignored it.

Over the next few days, Samantha went out drinking and partying every night. Every update she posted was tagged at some bar, lounge, or club, and Ryan was almost always right there beside her.

It was as if she had completely forgotten she still had a boyfriend. We hadn't even officially broken up, but she was already enjoying single life.

That was fine with me.

I had no intention of seeing her again anyway.

After packing everything I owned, I called Linda and apologized again for what had happened at the engagement party.

I knew she had always cared about me. The only reason she said those harsh things was because I refused to listen and kept returning to Samantha, despite how badly I was treated.

"Aunt Linda," I asked, "you used to suggest I move abroad and work with my cousin. Is that chance still open?"

She was stunned at first. Then her voice filled with surprise and relief.

Back then, she had been strongly against my relationship with Samantha. She had advised me many times to study abroad and build a better life elsewhere, but I had rejected her every time.

"Of course it is," she replied. "As long as you're really done with Samantha and that whole mess, I'll support you."

Once we agreed that I would leave at the end of the month, I quickly contacted a real estate agent and listed my house for sale.

I bought the house in cash five years ago.

At the time, I had imagined it would be the home where Samantha and I would build our future.

Now there was no point in keeping it.

While I was packing, one of my closest friends suddenly sent me a video.

He was so angry that his words came out in a rush. "Caleb, watch the video I just sent you. Isn't that necklace around that b*stard's neck yours?"

I opened the video.

It seemed to have been filmed from inside a bar booth. Samantha was tipsy and leaning against Ryan's chest, while Ryan sat there wearing an elegant vintage emerald necklace.

My whole body went cold.

That necklace had belonged to my mother before she died, and it was one of the few things she had left me.

I had given it to Samantha as a promise, something more meaningful than any ring or gift I could ever buy.

Three years ago, she told me she had accidentally lost it. She cried, blamed herself for days, and I comforted her like a fool.

Now, it was hanging around Ryan's neck.

I went downstairs, got into a taxi, and headed straight to the bar using the location my friend had sent me.

I hadn't planned to see Samantha again, but I was not leaving my mother's necklace with him.