The Last April I Stayed

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me.

Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out.

He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real.

As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him.

Instead, I was met with a face full of cake.

He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke.

However, this time, I took a step back.

After six disappointments, I chose to walk away.

So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?

Every year on April Fools' Day, my boyfriend would team up with his childhood best friend to pull the same prank on me. He would pretend to propose.

Last year, the two of them laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, even though my fingers were almost crushed in the process. Later, he apologized and swore that this year would be different. This year, the proposal would be real.

As such, when he called me again, sounding urgent and telling me to come to the place where we had our very first date, I believed him.

I curled my hair, got my nails done, and spent extra time perfecting my makeup. I picked out a brand new outfit, and even drafted the announcement post I was going to share once everything became official.

However, the second I stepped through the door, smiling and full of excitement, a thick slab of cake cream slammed straight into my face. Laughter burst out from among the crowd and a girl's voice rang out, bright and smug.

"I told you Whitney would show up, Nolan. You lost!"

Nolan Jones walked over and, just like always, gently wiped the cream off my face. "You got all dressed up," he said with a soft smile. "It’s a shame about the outfit."

Then he added, like it was nothing, "I made a bet with the guys about whether I could get you to come. I said you wouldn't. If I won, I'd propose tomorrow. If I lost, I'd propose next year."

He looked at me, still smiling. "Sorry. Since you showed up, I guess we're not getting married this year after all."

I stared at him quietly. "So, you do know what tomorrow is."

He let out a careless laugh. "Of course I do. It's our six-year anniversary. How could I forget?"

The cream clung to my face, sticky and cold. At that moment, something inside me went completely numb.

Our anniversary did not even take precedence over a prank.

Just like I could never beat her.

I slipped off the plain couple's ring I had worn for six years.

"Then let's break up."

The sharp, clear sound of the ring hitting the floor