At 42, Anya finally dares to love again, only to be met with silence from the man who promised to be there. He vanishes without a word when she needs him the most, leaving her questioning if love is worth the risk after all.
I’ve built a life most would call complete. A successful career as an architect, good friends, and a steady rhythm to my days.
Yet, I’d often feel so lonely in my quiet apartment. My friends would tell me it was about time I found a partner, but I’d never agree.
A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Anya, when was the last time you went on a date?” my friend Lisa teased one day.
“Oh, I think my soulmate must be my drafting table at this point.” I laughed it off, but deep down, her words struck a nerve.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, seriously. Don’t you miss having someone around?”
I forced a half-smile. “I don’t think it’s in the cards for me. Too much history, too much… complication.”
A woman talking to a friend | Source: Midjourney
I was 25 the last time I was in love.
My high school sweetheart, Stephan, and I had dreams as big as the sky. But life happened. My mom passed away, and grief consumed me.
I still remember Stephan’s last words before he left.
“Anya, I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said in a cold voice. “You’ve changed. You’re just too sad, and I need someone who’s happy. I need someone who’s there for me. Not someone who just spends her entire day crying!”
A young man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe it. Instead of staying with me during the worst time of my life, Stephan chose to walk away.
I didn’t even ask him to stay back. I cried like a baby the night he left me.
However, I soon picked up the broken pieces of my heart and tried to distract my mind by focusing on my work.
As years passed, I told myself I didn’t need a man to be happy. I had a thriving career and became the strong, independent woman I’d dreamed of.
But deep down, I’d feel the ache for something more whenever I’d see couples on the street.
A couple walking on the street | Source: Pexels
Lately, though, it wasn’t just the loneliness bothering me. I’d feel worn down and fatigued and would often get headaches and spells of dizziness.
Lisa and some others nudged me to see a doctor, but I brushed it off as stress from work. After all, a few aches were nothing compared to what I’d been through, right?
A few weeks after Lisa’s pep talk, I found myself at a neighborhood charity event. It was one of those pop-up art galleries that featured local artists.
People in an art gallery | Source: Pexels
I was standing in front of a watercolor painting of a misty mountain when a deep, cheerful voice spoke beside me.
“Not bad, right? Although the brushwork here is, uh, interesting.”
I looked over, meeting the eyes of a man with a mischievous grin and an infectious energy that caught me off guard.
“I’d say unique,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “I take it you’re an art critic in disguise?”
“History professor, actually,” he laughed. “Liam’s the name. And you?”
A man standing in an art gallery | Source: Midjourney
“Anya,” I said, trying not to smile too much. But something about him drew me in. I guess it was his intelligence.
As we talked, his sense of humor and insight made me feel instantly comfortable. I learned he was a history professor, just 35, but surprisingly mature for his age.
Unlike other men I’d known, he didn’t rush to impress or make advances.
He seemed genuinely interested in art, and in me, without any hidden agenda. There was something refreshingly steady about him.
A man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
I told myself he was just a nice guy I’d chat with once and then forget. But that turned out to be wishful thinking.
Over the next few weeks, we kept running into each other at different places. We even started meeting up on purpose.
I found myself looking forward to seeing him in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
One evening at the diner, we were talking over coffee when I asked him about his family.
A woman holding her coffee | Source: Pexels
“They, uh, they’re a bit different,” he told me. “And I don’t see them often.”
He didn’t elaborate, and quickly changed the topic. He rarely mentioned them after that.
It was strange, but I didn’t push. I understood the need to keep some things close to the chest.
Soon, our friendship blossomed into something deeper, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years. Every time I’d catch myself replaying our conversations in my head, I knew it was more than just companionship.
A woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Liam and I were together now. He was my boyfriend, though saying it out loud still felt surreal.
One afternoon, we met up for lunch at a small diner. In the background, the TV was showing a weather report.
Suddenly, I noticed Liam’s attention snap to the screen as the reporter announced, “Cosolia is expected to have a bout of bad weather. Prepare your umbrellas, folks, because this isolated town is sure to become even more closed off with the upcoming rain…”
Liam’s focus sharpened at the mention of the small town.
A man standing in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Meanwhile, I’d never heard of the place before.
“You know the place?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, uh, I’ve been there a few times,” he said. “I didn’t know they were going to have rain right now. Anyway, what are we having for lunch?”
He quickly changed the topic, but it didn’t bother me. I thought it was just the historian in him who was fascinated with odd places.
A man looking away while talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
After a wonderful evening with Liam, I found myself feeling unusually dizzy and faint. This was different. It was worse than the usual fatigue I’d brushed off as work stress.
My head felt heavy, and for a moment, my vision blurred. That was the day I finally decided it was time to see a doctor.
Sitting in the sterile waiting room, I kept telling myself it was nothing serious.
Just stress, just work, I thought. You’re gonna be okay.
But the doctor’s expression told me otherwise.
A doctor studying a report | Source: Pexels
He explained that the tests showed I had Multiple Sclerosis. The words didn’t sink in right away.
“It’s probably just stress, right?” I laughed weakly.
The doctor told me to calm down before he explained more.
He said words like “tests,” “rare”, and “serious,” but I have no idea what he told me. I could only feel my heart pound against my chest as I looked at him.
A woman in a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney
At that point, I thought of Liam. He was the one person who’d brought light back into my life. Maybe he’d know what to say to make this all feel less terrifying.
As I left the doctor’s office, I felt tears stream down my cheeks. I quickly sat inside my car and typed out a message to Liam.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
Liam, I need to tell you something. I was at the doctor’s today… they diagnosed me with Multiple Sclerosis. I’m so scared. I don’t even know where to start dealing with this. I thought I’d be okay, but I’m not. I could really use your support right now, babe. Please meet me.
I hit send, praying he’d respond quickly.
Hours passed, though, and my phone stayed silent. By the time night turned to dawn, I was nearly sick with worry.
Maybe he doesn’t want to deal with this, I thought.
A worried woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
Day one turned into day two, then day three, and still, there was no word.
He’s gone silent. Maybe he’s busy, but it’s been days. What if… what if he doesn’t want to deal with this? The thought hit me again, hard. I was alone again.
Memories of Stephan flooded back and his cold words echoed in my mind. “You’re just too sad, and I need someone who’s happy.”
Was I about to lose Liam the same way?
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Desperation took over, and I combed through his social media, looking for any sign of life. I called him repeatedly, but it went to voicemail. I even went to his apartment, but his neighbor told me he’d left suddenly.
“Why would he just leave without a word? Did my illness scare him that much?” I whispered to myself.
The pain of abandonment was too familiar. I was convinced Liam had chosen to walk away, just when I needed him the most.
On the fourth day, just as I was starting to accept that Liam had disappeared, my phone finally rang. His name lit up the screen.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Anya, I’m so sorry. I had to leave in such a rush,” he started, his voice sounding strained and exhausted. “My grandmother… she lives in Cosolia. She got really sick, and I just—”
Cosolia. That small town on the weather report, the one that had captured his attention at the diner. It all clicked, but the anger I’d felt these past days pushed through.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have any idea what that did to me, Liam?” I interrupted. “You just vanished. I thought… I thought you were gone. Like everyone else.”
There was a pause, and his voice softened when he spoke again.
“I know, Anya. And I hate that I put you through that. I wanted to reach out, but everything went wrong. The storm knocked out all the power, the roads flooded… I couldn’t get to you.” His words poured out in a rush. “I couldn’t even find a working phone. The whole area was cut off.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
Was he telling the truth? I wondered, feeling a flicker of doubt. Why hadn’t he ever mentioned this grandmother before? Or even that she lived in Cosolia? And what about all those times I’d asked about his family… why had he dodged my questions? Was he hiding more? My mind raced with questions, one after another. Should I trust him?
“Anya? Are you there?” His voice broke into my thoughts, pulling me back.
I took a breath. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your family, Liam? Every time I asked, you brushed it off.”
A woman talking to her boyfriend on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Because…” he sighed. “I was ashamed. My family doesn’t have much. They live in a small town, and I thought you’d see me differently if you knew. My life’s messy, Anya. I didn’t want you to see that part of me.”
I stayed quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. The sincerity in his words felt real.
“Liam,” I said softly, “I’m not the kind of person who judges someone for where they come from or how much they have. I care about you for who you are.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Anya,” he said before taking a deep breath. “That… means everything to me. I’ll be back by tomorrow. And I’ll be here for you, for whatever you need.”
When Liam returned the next day, he came straight to my place. We sat on the couch and talked about everything. About my diagnosis, his family, and our fears.
And for the first time, I let down my walls completely.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Liam,” I said quietly, tears brimming. “You didn’t sign up for this…”
He took my hand and looked straight into my eyes.
A man holding his girlfriend’s hands | Source: Pexels
“Anya, life isn’t about ‘signing up’ for things. It throws us surprises. Good and bad. And I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed my hand gently. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll be here with you, for as long as you need me.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked at him.
“I’m so sorry for putting you through this, Liam,” I managed to say between sobs. “I…”
He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. It was exactly the kind of hug I needed at that moment.
A man hugging his girlfriend | Source: Pexels
A few days later, Liam drove me to my next doctor’s appointment. He opened the door for me and held my hand as we entered the office.
For the first time in years, I had someone standing by my side during one of the lowest points of my life. Someone who wouldn’t leave if I cried too much. Someone who was ready to accept both the good and the messy sides of me.
I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like Liam. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.
A man smiling at his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Inheriting her beloved grandmother’s house, Claire pours her heart into its renovation for her mom. But the unexpected return of her estranged sister, Emma, after fourteen years, with a demand for a share of the inheritance, throws Claire’s plans into turmoil. What will she do now?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
After Years of Waiting, a Woman Decides to Propose to Her Boyfriend Herself, but His Response Is Even More Unexpected — Story of the Day
After five years of dating, Charlotte decides it’s time to take the leap and proposes to Peter during a cozy dinner. As curious eyes in the restaurant turn toward them, his stunned and hesitant reaction leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about their future.
Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, the morning light filtering through the thin hotel curtains.
The phone pressed against her ear felt heavier with each word from her mother.
“Mom… I don’t know…” she repeated softly, her voice cracking with frustration.
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” her mother snapped on the other end. “Charlotte, you’ve been with Peter for, what, five years now?”
“Five years and three months,” Charlotte murmured, as if the exact number might defend her case.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“And still no proposal? Charlotte, you’re 33 years old! How much longer do you plan to walk around unmarried? At this rate, I’ll never see grandchildren,” her mother continued, her tone sharp and unwavering.
Charlotte bit her lip, the ache in her chest growing.
“When Peter planned this two-week trip, I really thought… I thought this was it, Mom. I thought he’d propose.”
“And now this trip is nearly over,” her mother cut in.
“The day after tomorrow, you’ll be home, and what do you have? Nothing but your grandfather’s ring, which should already be on your husband’s finger by now.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, please,” Charlotte said, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her. “I know the story. You’ve told it a hundred times.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Charlotte! That ring is meant for your husband, and how are you supposed to pass it down if you don’t have one?” her mother snapped, her words sharp as glass.
Charlotte closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
“Alright, Mom. I get it. I’m hanging up now.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Either find someone else or propose to him yourself!” her mother shouted just before Charlotte ended the call. The silence in the room was deafening.
Dropping the phone onto the bed, Charlotte buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she reached for her bag and pulled out the small velvet box.
She opened it slowly, revealing the delicate gold ring that carried generations of family history.
She held it in her palm, staring at it. The ring wasn’t just a piece of jewelry; it was a symbol of tradition, of responsibility.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As the only daughter, that responsibility felt like a weight she wasn’t sure she could carry much longer.
The restaurant was warm and softly lit, with a hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the air.
Charlotte sat across from Peter, her hands resting on the table, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t seem to silence.
“Time’s flown by, hasn’t it?” Peter said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. “I didn’t even notice. Tomorrow we’ll be back home, and this trip will just be a memory.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Charlotte forced a small smile.
“Yeah, it went by quickly… but it feels like something’s missing, like we forgot something important,” she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
Peter furrowed his brow, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean? What’s missing?”
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin. “Peter, don’t you think it’s time our relationship moved to the next level?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Peter chuckled, his tone light.
“The next level? Are you saying you want us to get a dog? Or maybe a cat?”
Charlotte gave a tight smile, shaking her head. “No. I mean something else…”
“I don’t follow,” Peter said, his playful demeanor giving way to confusion.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Charlotte reached into her bag and pulled out a small velvet box.
She placed it on the table between them, her heart pounding.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Peter,” she began, her voice trembling but firm, “we’ve been together for more than five years. I’ve known for a long time that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
With a deep breath, she opened the box, revealing the heirloom ring. “Peter, will you marry me?”
The color drained from Peter’s face as his eyes widened in shock. He looked at the ring, then at her, his discomfort evident.
Around them, the hum of conversation quieted as other diners took notice, their curious gazes making Peter shift uneasily.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’re proposing to me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Charlotte said, her smile faltering slightly. “What’s your answer?”
Peter glanced around, visibly unnerved by the attention. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered.
“This doesn’t feel right… I need time to think.”
Charlotte’s chest tightened. “Time? You’ve had over five years! I can’t keep waiting—I need an answer.”
The restaurant fell silent, all eyes on their table. Peter stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t do this. Charlotte, I think we need to take a break. I need to figure out what I really want.”
Charlotte’s breath caught. “A break? You’re breaking up with me?”
“No,” Peter said quickly, his voice defensive.
“Not breaking up. I just think we need some time apart. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.” Without another word, he turned and walked out.
“Peter!” Charlotte called after him, but he didn’t look back. Left alone at the table, Charlotte felt the weight of judgmental eyes around her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Fighting back tears, she hurriedly gathered her things, paid the bill, and left the restaurant, the sting of rejection lingering with every step back to the hotel. Next day she returned to her hometown and first person she went to meet was her mother.
Charlotte walked into her mother’s house, her suitcase dragging behind her, the wheels squeaking against the tile floor.
The house smelled of lavender, just as it always had, but instead of comfort, it made her chest tighten. Her throat felt dry, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of sadness and anger.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As soon as her mother appeared in the doorway, Charlotte burst into tears and ran into her arms. The weight of her emotions spilled out in broken sobs.
“He left me, Mom,” Charlotte cried, her words muffled against her mother’s shoulder. “You were right. I wasted the best years of my life for nothing.”
Her mother gently stroked her hair, her voice surprisingly calm.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard. But maybe this is a blessing in disguise. At least now he won’t waste any more of your time.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Charlotte pulled back slightly, her face tear-streaked and red. Her mother’s words stung at first, but the softness in her voice made Charlotte pause.
She hadn’t expected sympathy—she’d braced herself for an “I told you so.”
“Do you really think it’s for the best?” Charlotte asked, her voice trembling.
Her mother gave a small, sad smile. “I do. You deserve someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to fight for you. It’s time to think about what you want.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Hearing that, Charlotte let out another sob, this time feeling a weight begin to lift.
Years of pent-up anxiety, frustration, and heartbreak poured out, and for the first time, she let herself feel everything.
She stayed in her mother’s embrace, her tears slowing.
It wasn’t an instant cure, but in that moment, Charlotte realized something important: this chapter of her life had ended, and now, she had the chance to write a new one.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Almost a month had passed since Charlotte’s trip. Though her heart still carried the weight of heartbreak, she had begun to heal.
Each day felt a little lighter, and the texts from Reggie, the man she met recently, were a welcome distraction. His thoughtful messages, sprinkled with humor and warmth, brought a smile to her face each morning.
They weren’t serious, but he was kind, and for now, that was enough.
That morning, as she scrolled through her phone with her coffee in hand, a different name appeared on her screen. Her breath caught.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was Peter.
“Hi, how are you? I’d like to meet and talk. Are you free today at five?”
Charlotte’s chest tightened. For weeks, she had convinced herself she was over him, but seeing his name brought back a flood of emotions.
Her hands trembled as she stared at the screen, her coffee growing cold. After a deep breath, she typed a simple reply:
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, we can meet.”
Later that evening, Charlotte sat at a corner table in a quiet café, her nerves on edge.
When Peter walked in, her stomach turned. He carried a bouquet of roses and approached with the same familiar, confident smile he had always worn.
“I’ve missed you, Charlotte,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She pulled back slightly, meeting his surprise with a cold stare.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t notice,” she replied, her tone clipped.
Peter hesitated but pressed on, sliding into the seat across from her. “Look, I know I acted like a jerk. I was scared.”
“Scared of what, Peter?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Of responsibility… marriage. And you blindsided me with that proposal. In front of everyone? Imagine how that felt for me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Charlotte’s jaw tightened.
“How you felt? Did you ever stop to think about how I felt? Being in a relationship for over five years with no sign of commitment? How that made me question everything about us?”
“I didn’t realize it mattered so much to you,” Peter said, his voice softening.
“You should have realized,” she shot back.
“It mattered to me, and it should have mattered to you. But you walked away. You made your choice.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I know,” Peter admitted, leaning forward.
“But I’ve had time to think. I was wrong, Charlotte. Let’s fix this. I’m ready now. Let’s go back to what we had. It was special, and I want to marry you.”
Charlotte shook her head, her resolve hardening.
“It’s too late, Peter.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“We love each other. We can make this work.”
“No, Peter,” she said, standing.
“There’s no ‘we’ anymore. What we had is in the past, and I don’t want to go back.”
As she walked out of the café, Charlotte felt a weight lift.
For the first time in years, she felt free—free to embrace her future, one where her happiness didn’t depend on someone who couldn’t see her worth.
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