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,