drained from his face.
“What does this mean?”
I picked up my suitcase.
“It’s just a piece of paper, Daniel.”
“Are you serious? You’re going to throw away twelve years because of one conversation?”
“No. I’m leaving because one conversation opened my eyes to the truth about those twelve years.”
He began telling me that he loved me, that a wedding wasn’t important, and that we were already a family.
But for the first time, I understood what his words truly meant.
“We’re a family” when it benefited him.
“That’s your problem” when I needed protection.
I walked out of the house.
Four days later, Daniel proposed to me.
He sent the ring with a bouquet of flowers.
I sent it back.
Not because I no longer wanted to get married.
But because I finally understood that I didn’t want to marry a man who chose me only after he
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