Harper

Tonight felt different. Special. My heart raced with anticipation as I stood in front of my mirror, adjusting the soft waves of my brown hair. The black cocktail dress hugged my curves just right, making me feel both elegant and confident. I smoothed my hands down the fabric, my fingertips tingling with excitement. If Ethan was ever going to propose, it had to be tonight.

Three years together, and every moment with him had been nothing short of incredible. He had told me to meet him at The Velvet Spoon, one of the most romantic spots in the city, and to dress nicely. It was the kind of place where dim candlelight reflected in crystal glasses and couples whispered sweet nothings across candlelit tables. Everything about it screamed "proposal."

A car horn outside broke me from my thoughts. The cab.

Grabbing my clutch, I hurriedly stepped into my heels and made my way to the door. I was practically floating with excitement, my mind swirling with thoughts of what tonight could mean. Marriage. A future. A family.

I hopped into the cab, the driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, a knowing smile on his face. "Big night?"

I felt heat rise to my cheeks but nodded, unable to suppress my smile. "Hopefully."

The ride to the restaurant felt endless. My mind played out every possible scenario. Would he get down on one knee the moment I arrived? Would the waiter bring out the ring hidden beneath a silver dome? Would he make a speech about how much he loved me before revealing the little velvet box? My stomach was in knots, half from nerves and half from sheer excitement.

When we finally arrived, I stepped out, exhaling a shaky breath. The restaurant was stunning with its intimate lighting and the warm sounds of a live violinist in the background. This was it. This was the beginning of the rest of my life.

The hostess greeted me with a bright smile. "Table for two?"

"Harper Stone, or it might be under Ethan Black."

Her smile widened. "We’ve been expecting you. Right this way."

My heart stuttered. They’ve been expecting me. That had to mean something, right? I followed her through the softly lit dining room, my eyes scanning for Ethan, but his seat was empty. Maybe he was running late. I settled into the chair, smoothing my dress, and ordered a glass of wine to calm my nerves.

Minutes passed. Then more. I checked my phone. No messages.

Are you running late? I texted.

Nothing. The unease in my stomach grew. I called him. Straight to voicemail.

He was probably on his way. Maybe he got caught in traffic. Maybe he was parking. But Ethan was never late. Ever.

The waiter returned, his expression carefully neutral. "Would you like to order?"

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass. "I’ll order for both of us."

Each minute that passed felt like an eternity. I kept glancing at the entrance, hoping, praying he would walk in with an apologetic smile, ready to make up for his tardiness. But he never came.

By the time my food arrived, dread had settled deep in my bones. Something wasn’t right. Ethan wasn’t answering. He wasn’t here. And worst of all, I felt it in my gut. Something was wrong.

I barely touched my meal before asking for the check. My fingers shook as I signed the receipt. Then, as if my body knew what I needed to do before my mind did, I walked outside, hailed another cab, and gave the driver Ethan’s address.

The ride to his apartment was filled with worst-case scenarios. Was he hurt? Did something happen at work? My hands gripped my clutch so tightly my knuckles turned white. And then, as the cab pulled up in front of his building, I saw it.

A police cruiser.

My stomach dropped.

No. No, no, no.

I threw cash at the driver and stumbled out of the car, my heels clicking against the pavement. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as I rushed toward his apartment. The door was slightly ajar, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice shaky.

A uniformed officer turned toward me, his expression grim. "Can I help you, miss?"

I swallowed hard, willing my voice to stay steady. "I…um...Ethan. Ethan Black. He lives here. I…I was supposed to meet him for dinner."

The officer’s eyes filled with pity. Regret. "Miss… I’m so sorry. Ethan Black passed away at the hospital ten minutes ago. He was in a car accident earlier today."

The world tilted. I gripped the doorframe to steady myself. "No. No, that’s not…he wouldn’t…"

He couldn’t be gone. Not Ethan. Not the man I loved. Not the man I was supposed to spend forever with.

I forced in a shaky breath. "Then why…why are you here? If he was in an accident, why are you at his apartment?"

The officer hesitated before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small black box. "Ethan was my friend. He asked me to come here before he went into surgery. He wanted to make sure you got this."

The box felt impossibly heavy as he placed it in my trembling hands. I didn’t need to open it. I already knew what was inside. The ring I had dreamed of. The promise of a future that would never come.

Tears blurred my vision as my knees buckled. A sob tore through my chest as the officer caught my arm, steadying me. But I couldn’t steady my heart. Couldn’t steady the realization that the life I had planned, the love I had counted on, had been ripped away in a matter of moments.

The last thing I remembered before everything went dark was the sound of my own shattered breath, the weight of grief pressing down until I could no longer stand.