I Proposed To Him, The Comments Told Me His Heart Belonged To Her Chapter 05

I Proposed To Him, The Comments Told Me His Heart Belonged To Her Chapter 05

“Grst because need to go along with everything you said, did you think that meant you got a vote on

mission i make?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

He went quiet. Then he spoke:

“You didn’t even tell me your flight.”

“And who exactly are you to me?”

He went completely still.

I’d never asked him that before.

I’d always assumed Grant was different from everyone else.

Childhood friend. Future boyfriend. Future husband. I’d reserved a place for him in every version of my life I could imagine.

But strip all of that away, and right now, on paper, he was nothing to me.

It took him a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was scraped raw. “We’ve known each other for nineteen years.”

“So?”

“Sienna.”

“What?”

“You weren’t like this before.”

That almost made me laugh.

“What was I like before?”

He couldn’t answer.

The old me got jealous. Threw fits. Sulked for three months because someone else sat in his passenger seat. Scrubbed every male celebrity he ever frowned at off my feed.

I did all of that, every ridiculous thing, because I liked him.

Take that away, and there was nothing left to fight about.

Something shifted behind his eyes. His face darkened.

lace wasn’t for Kläite.”

Glinked. “What?”

“You liked it, didn’t you? He stared at me. “It was supposed to be yours.”

My stomach dropped.

“Then why did you give it to her?”

He didn’t answer.

And then I understood.

“You did it on purpose.”

Grant looked, for once, uncomfortable.

I stared at him. “The front seat too?”

Nothing.

“The family dinner?”

Still nothing.

I was so angry it circled all the way back to funny.

“Grant, is something actually wrong with you?”

He finally spoke. “I wanted to see how much it would take before you snapped.”

“Snapped over what?”

“Over me.”

For a full five seconds, I couldn’t form a single word.

Nineteen years. I’d spent nineteen years in love with a complete psychopath.

My silence must have scared him more than my anger, because he started scrambling.

“You always used to…”

“So you were testing me.”

Grant didn’t say anything.

“You knew how I felt about you, and you used another girl, a girl who actually liked you, just to see how much I’d take before I broke?”

frained from his face.

But the strange thing was that I didn’t feel hurt anymore.

The whole thing just seemed ridiculous.

Before, I’d been terrified that the comments were right, that he’d fallen for Blaire at first sight and that my

nineteen years of loving him were a punchline.

Now I knew he’d never wanted Blaire. And I felt… nothing much.

The problem was never who he liked.

I looked him dead in the eye. “Did you ever think about how Blaire felt? Did you ever once think about how I

felt?”

“I’ll explain everything to her.”

“That’s not the point, Grant.”

For the first time, I saw it clearly. Blaire was never the problem.

The problem was that he’d never once treated what I felt for him like it was something that could break.

He was so sure of me that he thought he could spend it however he wanted.

Hurt me today, fix it tomorrow. Give my seat away and hand it back when he felt like it.

But love doesn’t work like that.

“I did love you.”

Something sparked behind his eyes.

I let two seconds pass.

“And I don’t want to anymore.’

The spark in his eyes died.

Neither of us spoke for a long time.

His voice came out rough. “What if I change?”

I considered it. I nodded.

“That would be good.”

Hope crept back into his face.

our next girlfriend hotter,”

Grant said nothing.

I turned and walked inside.

No footsteps behind me. No voice.

Just before the elevator doors closed, I caught a glimpse of him, still standing exactly where I’d left him.

That night, the comments came back.

[?? The male lead loved her this whole time?]

[Wait, this isn’t what happened in the original story!]

[Then why won’t she take him back?]

I read that last one and genuinely didn’t understand the question.

Since when did “he loves you” mean I was supposed to forgive everything?

Love is not a get-out-of-jail-free card.

didn’t go home for Mom’s birthday.

She’d been calling for two weeks, dancing around the subject of flights. I played dumb until she ran out of ways to hint.

“Sienna, will

you come home for my birthday? Just for dinner?”

I pressed the phone against my ear and said nothing for a long time.

“Mom, I have a project review that week.”

Silence on her end.

When she finally spoke, her voice was careful. “Then I won’t keep you from your work.”

It still hurt.

Nineteen years of love doesn’t evaporate because you change your address. I never wanted to erase them from my life.

I’d just spent my whole life putting the Whitmores first, Grant second, and myself dead last.

It was time to rearrange the order.

On her birthday, I still video-called home.

The screen was full of food. Mom pointed at a plate of barbecue ribs without thinking. “Sienna, you used to love these when you were…”

She stopped.

I wasn’t there.

Blaire was in my chair now. The one I’d sat in for nineteen years.

Nobody spoke for a beat too long.

I smiled. “Save me some for when I visit.”

Mom’s eyes welled up.

I looked away fast.

I hated that.

She looked at me like I was dying, not going to art school.