Till the 100th "No"

Even on my hundredth proposal, Isabelle Cole still turns me down.

We've been together for seven years. For the previous 99 proposals, she said her childhood friend isn't married yet, and she can't bring herself to break the promise they've made.

Staring at the ring in my hand, I finally can't hold it in anymore. "If Ronald never gets married, are you going to keep him company forever? What am I to you?"

Isabelle's expression turns gloomy in an instant. She snatches the ring and throws it into the river. "Ron and I made a promise when we were kids that we'd get married at the same time. How can I just abandon him?

"And besides, is that piece of paper really all that important, Lucas? We've been together for seven years. What difference would it even make?"

I stood in the middle of a sea of roses, still down on one knee. The ring I had been holding tightly had just been thrown into the river by Isabelle Cole.

At this point, I didn't look like I was proposing anymore. I looked like some guy who'd messed up and was kneeling in front of his girlfriend, begging her to forgive him.

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Only I could turn what was supposed to be a romantic, moving proposal into such a humiliating scene.

And the worst part was that I'd already been through this 99 times. Isabelle and I had been together for seven years, from ages 23 to 30. I'd already proposed 99 times, and today was my hundredth.

On every previous proposal, she'd refused me, saying that her childhood friend, Ronald Shaw, hadn't married yet, and she couldn't break their promise.

I used to believe that even if she graded me from zero, by the hundredth time, I would've gotten a perfect score, and she'd finally agree. So, I chose to propose for the hundredth time on my 30th birthday, hoping to start a new decade and a new chapter with her.

I had assumed she would say yes without a doubt this time. But she turned me down again, just as decisively as before.

I got to my feet and faced her clearly annoyed expression. I decided to ask again, partly just to give myself a chance to finally let go.

"Isabelle, we've been together for seven years. This is my hundredth proposal. Come on, stop messing with me."

She rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide how little she cared. "So what? I've known Ron for over 20 years. Does that mean less than our seven years of relationship?

"I've said it 99 times, and this is the hundredth. Listen carefully. If Ron never gets married, neither will I. That's the promise we made when we were kids. Besides, why do we need a flimsy piece of paper to prove our relationship?"

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something to change her mind, but she had already grabbed her bag, turned on her heels, and walked off in her high heels without so much as a glance back. Just like all the previous 99 times, her decision was cold and final.

She got into the car and immediately drove off, leaving me no chance to stop her.

Our friends around us let out a collective sigh. After my fifth failed proposal, most people stopped showing up. But this time, convinced she'd finally say yes, I begged and pleaded and dragged every friend I had here to witness our happiness.

In the end, I had embarrassed myself in front of them once more.

Standing there, I actually felt a flicker of relief. At least it was just a proposal and not an actual wedding. If the bride had walked out for the hundredth time at the altar, we'd both be a joke.

I packed everything up with practiced hands, sent each friend home, and went back alone to my empty house.

When I unlocked my phone screen, the first thing I saw was Ronald's latest post.

"With you by my side, I'm never alone."

The photo showed Isabelle leaning on his shoulder, smiling softly, looking like a completely different person from the impatient woman who had just walked away from me.

I had always minded Ronald's presence.

Back when Isabelle and I first got together, I asked her straight out if she liked him, telling her I wouldn't cling to her if she did.

Every time, she would accuse me of being petty, saying I was tainting the purity of their friendship. "Can you not be so dirty-minded? There's nothing between Ron and me.

"When we were kids, his parents often left him home alone. He developed separation anxiety. If no one is by his side, he'll have episodes. I promised I'd be there for him until he got married. How could I ever abandon him?

"Can't you be a little more understanding?"