Second-Rate Love
Language: en
The day Adrian Cavagin proposed to me, marking twelve years together, was the day he confessed to cheating. Just like that. No warning. "Marry me or leave me. The choice is yours." He casually flicked a petal from the bouquet of roses I was holding. He told me he'd gone on a little date with the new intern at his company, right before coming to propose. "The florist said ninety-nine roses for a proposal. Not one less. It's meant to symbolize forever," he said, a faint smile on his lips. "But the girl said she liked them, so I gave one to her. Didn't even think twice." The tears of joy from…