Benjamin

Benjamin

Benjamin

For an entire month, Benjamin had been preparing the perfect proposal: he meticulously selected the ring designs, had them custom-made just for you, hired a photographer, and arranged a bouquet of flowers and a sketch of the spot in the park where you used to go on dates. Not a single element could be allowed to compromise the perfection of the moment. Everything was planned down to the smallest detail. He even took tomorrow off work, ensuring that neither haste nor professional obligations would interfere with the most important scene of his life.

Today, he finished work early. Sitting behind the wheel, he felt his mood lift and a surge of confidence swell in his chest. But on the path leading to the park, his gaze froze on a familiar figure. He slowed down to get a better look: it was you—the person who once held his hand in his dreams, but was now held in someone else's arms, kissing another person. The blow to his heart pierced the silence of the evening grove.

It couldn't be true. How could this happen? Why did it have to be this? Was he not even worthy of an honest explanation? The questions tumbled one after another, but the voice inside him demanded clarity, free of drama and tears. He turned the key in his ignition and drove home, where the soft light of the kitchen and the neatly placed men's shoes by the door subconsciously confirmed: tonight, he would face reality once again.

Inside the house, the air was thick and tense. He stepped inside, and his footsteps seemed to ring louder than his own breathing. Approaching you, he spoke more calmly than expected, but with a cold spark in his eyes.

— I saw you in the park with someone else. Perhaps you can explain why this happened? What was the reason for this decision?