My 43rd and Last Proposal

This was my 43rd time proposing to my boyfriend, Isaac.

He still turned me down.

"Sorry, I've got something urgent to take care of," Isaac said as he turned to leave.

In that moment we brushed past each other, I caught sight of the elegant paper bag clutched tightly in his hand.

He was in such a hurry that the bag had slightly opened, revealing a corner of smooth, delicate black lace.

My mind went blank for a second.

"Wait," I grabbed his arm, my voice trembling. "What is this?"

"Women's underwear," Isaac stopped reluctantly, frowning. "Clara's on her period. I'm just helping her get a fresh pair."

Clara—his junior and lab assistant, and a thorn in my side all along.

I used to think someone like Isaac, a high-IQ, low-EQ genius, wouldn't pay attention to anyone.

Until Clara showed up. He started bringing her up all the time.

I took a deep breath. "She has female friends, Isaac."

He looked almost puzzled, even turning it back on me. "Jane, you told me men should take care of women during that time of the month. I'm practicing what you preached—so why are you mad now?"

"Because last week when I had cramps," I snapped, "and asked you to buy me painkillers, you said I should deal with my 'biological issues' myself!"

"I don't remember that." Isaac glanced at his watch. "I've got to go. Clara's waiting."

"Isaac! I'm your girlfriend! I'm the one you're supposed to marry!" I cried out.

"I never said yes to your proposal. We're not engaged."

Then he pried my hand off and strode away.

"Isaac! If you walk away now, we're through!"

Isaac didn't even look back. He disappeared down the street.

I crouched there and sobbed for what felt like forever before finally stumbling away, too heartbroken to even hear the roar of the speeding engine.

BAM—!

I was thrown to the ground. Excruciating pain exploded through my leg.

Instinctively, I called Isaac.

"Isaac..." I gasped, struggling to breathe. "I—I've been hit... It hurts so bad..."

There was silence on the other end for a second.

Then came Isaac's cold, detached voice:

"Less than thirty minutes after I leave, you just happen to get into an accident? Jane, your acting's getting pretty weak."

"No... it's real... please help me—"

"Enough. I've got lab work to do."

The moment he hung up, I realized it wasn't just my leg that was broken.

My seven years of foolish, all-consuming love for this man—shattered completely.

My hand fell weakly to my side, but with the last bit of clarity I had, I called my parents.

When I woke up again, I was in the ER.

My mom sat by my bed, crying while scolding my dad. "I told you Isaac wasn't right for Jane! But you kept saying he was such a good student!"

Yeah. Isaac was my dad's student. I met him through Dad, then chased him for three years.

We'd been together for three years when I started proposing to him.

Every time, he had a reason to say no.

At first, it was just: The lab's crazy busy—let's talk later.

Slowly, the excuses became: Clara's waiting for me, or I've got experiments to run with Clara.

Even Dad looked guilty. "Jane, stop proposing to Isaac! Just end things with him already!"

In the past, I would've fired back: But what if he says yes?

This time, I just opened my mouth weakly and said, "We're already done."