My Boyfriend Proposed to Me Only 3 Months after We Met — I Was over the Moon until I Found Out Why

You know those moments that feel like they’re straight out of a romance novel? That was me on a warm spring day when I met Ethan.

I was at my favorite coffee shop slash bookstore, hunting through the shelves for a new book, when our hands accidentally touched.

We both reached for the same copy of “Pride and Prejudice,” of all things. I remember looking up and just about melting into his warm, brown eyes. When he flashed me a smile that was all dimples and charm, my heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Looks like we have the same taste in books.”

I giggled nervously. “No problem. You can have it.”

“How about we share it?” He leaned in close enough for me to catch the woodsy scent of his cologne. “Over coffee, perhaps?”

There was no way I could say no. We spent the afternoon lazing on a comfy sofa in a corner of the shop, drinking coffee and discussing our favorite reads. By the time he asked for my number, I was well and truly smitten.

And that was the start of our whirlwind romance. Dinners under the stars, surprise weekend getaways, and those deep, late-night conversations where you feel like you’ve known the person forever.

It felt like I was living a real-life romance movie. I should’ve realized then that it was too good to be true.

Three months after we met, Ethan proposed at that same coffee shop. It was sunset, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange, making everything look like a scene from a fairytale.

We were sitting in our usual spot, on the sofa, when he suddenly got down on one knee. My heart pounded as he held out a ring that sparkled almost as much as his eyes.

“Ava, you’ve brought so much joy into my life in such a short time. Will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, unable to find the words. “Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!”

He grinned as he slipped the ring onto my finger, then scooped me into his arms. It was perfect.

We decided on a small, intimate wedding at a place on the lake a few miles out of town. We booked in for the weekend, just close friends and family.

The pre-wedding party was a joyful blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and heartfelt toasts.

Ethan’s sister, Olivia, was her usual vivacious self, flitting around and making everyone laugh with her witty remarks.

“Olivia, you’re going to spill that drink,” I teased as she gestured wildly with her glass as we made our way to the bathrooms. She promptly laughed me off.

“You know, I still can’t believe you two managed to pull this off,” Olivia said. Her expression shifted slightly, but I was too wrapped up in the festivities to notice.

Confused, I tilted my head. “Pull what off?”

“The whole fake marriage thing,” she said casually, taking a sip of her drink. “I mean, I know it was the only way for Ethan to get the inheritance, but you two deserve an Oscar for this performance.”

My heart sank. “What do you mean, fake marriage?”

Olivia’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Wait, you didn’t know?” she stammered, her face paling. “I thought… I thought you were in on it.”

I felt a cold wave of shock wash over me. “In on what?”

Olivia glanced around, lowering her voice. “Ethan’s inheritance. Our grandfather left a stipulation in his will that Ethan would only receive his share if he got married within six months of the will being read. We all thought this was just a convenient arrangement.”

I stumbled back, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under me. The room seemed to spin as the realization hit.

Everything—the romantic gestures, the whirlwind proposal—it was all for money. Not a single moment of my relationship with Ethan was real.

I couldn’t believe it. I waited until Ethan was asleep, his steady breathing the only sound in the room. His phone lay on the bedside table.

Desperate to know the full truth, I picked it up, my hands trembling. I began scrolling through his messages, and what I found shattered me completely.

There were texts to his friends mocking the situation. “Just a few more months and the inheritance is mine,” he had written. “Can’t believe she fell for it.”

My heart sank further with each message, his cruel words cutting deeper than any physical wound. He had played me, used me, and all for money. My love for him had been genuine, but to him, I was just a means to an end.

I felt like a fool, a naive girl who had believed in fairytales.

But then I felt something ignite inside me. I set his phone down exactly where I’d found it and climbed back into bed. I knew exactly how to make Ethan regret playing me.

The day of the wedding arrived, and the venue was a picture of perfection. Flowers adorned every corner, and the soft glow of fairy lights cast a magical ambiance over the gathered guests. But my heart was heavy, weighed down by the betrayal I carried within me.

As I walked down the aisle, every step felt like I was marching towards my own execution. Ethan stood at the altar, looking every bit the handsome groom, but I could see through the facade now. I could see the cold, calculating man who had manipulated me.

When it was my turn to say my vows, I took a deep breath, my voice steady but charged with emotion.

“Ethan,” I began, “when we first met, I thought I had found the love of my life. I believed in us, in the future we could have together. But today, I stand here not to marry you, but to expose the truth.”

A murmur rippled through the guests, confusion and curiosity mingling in their eyes. Ethan’s smile faltered, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

“You see, this wedding was never about love for Ethan,” I continued, my voice gaining strength. “It was about money. He needed to get married to receive his inheritance, and I was the perfect pawn in his game.”

Gasps filled the air, and Ethan’s face turned ashen. “Ava, what are you doing?” he hissed, reaching out to grab my hand, but I pulled away.

“I’m reclaiming my worth,” I said, standing tall. “I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I can give them. I refuse to marry a man who sees me as nothing more than a tool for his gain.”

With that, I turned and walked away from the altar, my heart pounding but my spirit soaring. The shock and whispers followed me, but I felt a sense of liberation. I was no longer bound by his deceit.

In the days that followed, Ethan tried to reach out to me multiple times, but I refused to engage with him. Each text, each call, was a reminder of the betrayal I had endured. I needed time to process my emotions, to heal from the deep wounds he had inflicted.

My friends and family rallied around me, their support a balm to my broken heart. Lisa, my best friend, stayed by my side, helping me piece together the fragments of my life.

“You’re stronger than you think, Ava,” she said, holding my hand. “You deserve so much better than him.”

Slowly, with their love and encouragement, I began to rebuild myself. I focused on the things that brought me joy, rediscovering hobbies I had neglected and spending time with people who genuinely cared for me.

I went back to the coffee shop where it all began, not to wallow in the past, but to reclaim a place that once brought me happiness.

One evening, as the sun set, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings, I felt a sense of peace. I had been through hell and back, but I had emerged stronger, more resilient.

Ethan’s lies and manipulation had almost broken me, but in the end, he had only strengthened my resolve.

I knew that someday, I would find genuine love, someone who valued me for who I truly was. Until then, I was content in knowing my worth, embracing the journey of healing and self-discovery.

As I sit here, reflecting on everything that happened, I realize that life is full of unexpected twists and turns.

What matters is how we choose to respond to them. I chose to stand up for myself, to walk away from deceit and embrace my own strength.

And in that choice, I found a kind of love I had never known before—the love for myself.

Click here to read Bella’s story about how her wedding day turned into a nightmare when the groom’s ex barged in with an envelope in her hands.

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.