SHE SAID "NO" TO HIS PROPOSAL

Echoes of the Past

Luna's POV

This is a big mistake. I shouldn't have gotten into his car. I glance at Greg's reflection in the window—one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other draped out the window. His tie is gone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. The silence sits heavy between us, thick and tense. I want to say something, but what do you even say to the man you left hanging three years ago, after he proposed?

"Should we put on some music?" I ask, desperate to break the silence.

He glances over at me, his expression unreadable. "Sure," he says, his voice low, almost a rumble. He presses a button, and soft music fills the car, but it only seems to emphasize the silence between us.

"I didn't expect we'd be in this situation, working together like this," I say, finally breaking the ice.

He glances at me briefly then focuses on the road again. "Life is unpredictable, I guess," he scoffs quietly. "So unpredictable—like you." His face becomes serious, his jaw tightens, both hands gripping the steering wheel. He gives me a quick, pained glance, and I'm not ready for this conversation. This is why I shouldn't have gotten in his car. I take a deep breath, my brows furrowing. "Greg," I plead softly. Guilt swirls in my stomach, punching me in the gut.

"You know, you didn't even give me an explanation." His voice is clipped.

I wince, looking away, focusing my eyes on the window. But he continues. "You just left." He shakes his head slightly. "Like nothing happened."

I watch his reflection in the window, struggling to find the right words. I close my eyes, turning to him. "I know I hurt you. I didn't handle it well," I manage to mutter.

Flashbacks of those days surged through my mind, slicing my thoughts like a knife.

After the proposal, I avoided him like the plague. I bounced between hotels, but he wouldn't stop calling—until he finally found me at Mia's house. I couldn't stop the memories from flooding back...

"Luna, talk to me, please. I know you're in there," Greg said, pounding on the door. One hand rested on the doorframe, and he was panting, as if he'd run for miles to get here. I looked through the peephole, seeing him like I'd never seen him before—defeated. "Luna, let's talk this out. Please, what's going on? Just tell me." His voice wavered as if he were close to breaking. His clothes were disheveled, dark circles hung under his eyes, and it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Greg, please... don't make this any harder than it already is. It's over for us," I choked out, tears blurring my eyes as I leaned against the other side of the door. I fought the urge to open it, knowing that if I did, I'd give in. This is for both of us. This is for the best.

"But why?" he shouted, frustration breaking through his voice. "You're not ready? Fine. Then we won't get married yet." He hit the door with his fist, loud enough that I saw neighbors' doors cracking open, curious eyes watching our fight. "Just don't leave me hanging like this."

"Greg, please leave. You're disturbing the neighbors."

"No. I'm done running in circles. I've already made a fool of myself tracking you down. I'm not leaving this building until you talk to me." His voice cracked, his words almost a whisper now. "Can you just... please, open the door?"

Exhausted, I open the door. I leave it slightly open and walk to the living room, pacing with my arms crossed over my chest. "Greg, it's over for us. You have to accept that."

He follows me in, closing the door. "Why!" he yells, running his hand through his hair, frustrated. "I've been asking you over and over again, and you won't give me one acceptable reason." His voice is desperate.