The screen glowed with dim, romantic light. Ross had his arm around Zamora’s waist, lowering his head to kiss her deeply.
He lifted a champagne glass, smiling with that familiar tenderness and confidence.
And I saw it clearly—oon his finger was the ring I had saved for months to buy for him.
At that point, my eyes blurred. The image before me started to fade.
I still remembered the day I gave him that ring. His eyes had gone red as he knelt on one knee and swore, “One day, I’ll buy you one even better, even more expensive.”
But now, that “better and more expensive” ring was gleaming on another woman’s finger.
In the background of the video, their friends’ laughter echoed.
“After eight years, you two finally made it official!”
“Ross’s so devoted! Can you believe he waited eight years for Zamora?”
“That diamond ring? He had it custom-made eight years ago!”
My fingers started to shake. I had to look away and breathe between glances, or my tears would spill over completely.
Eight years…
For eight years, not a single one of his friends knew who I was.
But they all knew Zamora.
I had asked him before why he never took me to meet his friends.
He just smiled and said, “No need. They don’t really like crowds.”
Back then I foolishly believed him, thinking, ‘People nowadays are socially anxious, and not liking socializing is normal.’
But it turned out, it wasn’t that they didn’t like crowds. They just didn’t like me.
Suddenly, the hospital room door opened.
Ross stood there, holding a cake, smiling just like he used to.
“Happy anniversary, baby! I’m late. Are you mad?”
Streamers, roses, mango cake.
It was the same old routine for eight straight years.
If I hadn’t lived through everything that happened today, I might have been moved to tears just like before.
But now, all I felt was irony.
He didn’t know that I knew it—under the glow of those party lights, he had kissed another woman.
He didn’t know that because of that so-called car “accident,” I had lost our child forever.
The life that was supposed to be a surprise had become the price of his celebration with his other woman.
I swallowed the storm inside me and forced my tone to stay calm. “What are you doing here?”
“No matter how busy I am, you’re the most important to me.”
He smiled and sat by my bed, his tone gentle as always.