Emily's POV
I stared at Ryan, his engagement ring glinting in the sunlight as my heart raced. I had prepared myself for some grand gesture or maybe a heartfelt confession, but not this. Not a fake proposal, not this elaborate setup with my friends and family standing around like I was in some reality TV show."Ryan… what is this?" I asked, my voice sounding strangely distant to my own ears.Ryan's complexion had faded from view. His lips moved, but no sound came for the while. He looked nervously over his shoulder at his mother beaming at the back like some director awaiting her cue.I knew it. I could see it in his eyes. This thing was not real.The realization crash-landed on me, a wave breaking against the shore a terrible concoction of anger, disbelief, and sharp, aching disappointment that made my throat constrict. How on earth could he do this to me? I looked at the people gathered around- his whole family with proud, expectant looks on their faces. A camera-lens was clicking away on us as if we were a fairytale couple from a perfectly glossed magazine. Could feel my throat tighten up as I forced out the words. "Ryan, what the hell is going on?"Then her mother stepped in and deposited a hand on my shoulder, as if to confirm that everything was fine and well. "Just something little for everyone to see how serious you two are. Nothing to get upset over, sweetie. It is all in good fun.""Fun just like that?" I echoed coldly through my voice. "What, you didn't think it necessary to ask me first? You'd just decided to make me a part of your little game?"Ryan was still sputtering, panic scrawled all over his face as he tried to collage whatever little he could save of his lie. "Emily, I-I just never wanted this to...""You never wanted this?" I interjected, practically outraged. "You never meant for me to feel completely foolish? Just be shown like some prize around for the sake of making your family happy?"His mother looked like she wept, but I did not give a fig. My mind was whirling. This one Ryan had never told me. He never notified me. I began to feel nauseated and took a step backward, edges of my vision starting to blur. "You…don't really want to marry me, do you?"The words hit him like a blow of a physical kind. I could see the regret flicker across his face, but that doesn't matter because I'd just been a part of a joke. His mother's hand on my shoulder still felt heavy and suffocating. "No No, Emily, please. It's not like that," said Ryan stepping forward as if to touch me. But I backed away, not willing to allow him near me."I trusted you," I said in a whispering tone, my voice barely audible. "I really did. But now... I don't know who you are anymore."Ryan looked shell-shocked, like he was on the verge of saying something-something that might justify the mess he created. But then again, I didn't want to hear it. I couldn't.Without a word more, I turned around and walked out, pushing past his family who stood there, paralyzed about what to say or do. The photographer didn't even lower his camera; he clicked away as if this was just another moment in their perfect little world. I didn't care.I needed an escape. Thinking to escape. The brisk walk with the air hitting my skin had my footsteps echoing in the desolate park. I could feel tears threatening to sting but did not fall; I would not cry. Not for him. Did not know how far I walked and how long it took, but I stopped. Tension in the chest, shallow breaths. I leaned against a tree, back scratched on the bark as I tried to steal back my composure. What just happened? Some parts of me wanted to believe that Ryan never intended this. Perchance, it was a sort of family constraint or misunderstanding, but the fact was that he had gone along with it. He had let it happen. Why didn't he tell me? We have discussed our future with each other. We have discussed our future, but this was nothing of such a plan. No, there is no way this can be a sincere proposal; there is no way he would want such a serious commitment.Perhaps a little too much, however, a voice in my mind tugged at me to consider the possibility that maybe it was wrong of me. More was probably involved in this. Maybe Ryan did not know that things could escalate so far, but how could someone be so ignorant?I pulled my phone out with the light of the notifications still lighting up the missed calls and texts: Ryan, whose name glared back at me, making me feel punched in the gut. Hearing his explanation was the last thing I wanted; fortunately, I had to.Took a deep breath and called him back. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. And finally that thick voice broke through with a lot of hesitation. "Emily... I'm sorry. I know this doesn't make sense." "Doesn't make sense?" I repeated, barely keeping my voice steady. "It's not that it doesn't make sense, Ryan. It's that you lied to me. You lied to me and made me look like an idiot." "I swear I never meant it like that," he said immediately. "It was my family, Emily. They've really been on my case for months, and I..." "Then why didn't you tell me." Did I interrupt? But just for the record, I was on the verge of smoldering over. "Why didn't you tell me they were pushing you? Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?" "I didn't know how to," he said quietly. "I didn't want you to think I was just going along with their plans. I wanted to handle it on my own, but... but I messed up. I should've talked to you first." "You should have," I said, feeling the force of those words like a punch in the gut. "But now... I don't know if I can trust you.""Hello?" There was a very long silence from "him." "I'm sorry. I don't know how to fix this, but I want to try. Please. Please don't shut me out." His voice, desperate, was turning my heart inside out. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe this was just some gigantic, awful, and irresponsible mistake; my trust was, however beginning to show the cracks. "I need time," I said, my voice at a whisper. "I need time to think." And that ended the call, the empty silence of that moment settling over me. I wanted to believe that all this could be fixed. But deep down, I guessed things had changed-they hadn't become irrevocably changed, but enough to bring about the cracks, and I didn't know if those cracks could be hidden any longer.