Chapter 2The Fake Engagement: Photoshopping My Happily Ever After

Liam and I had been together for five years. We started dating in the spring of our junior year.

When we got together, he asked me repeatedly if I minded that he came from a poor farming town in the Midwest, that he was broke, and that he was drowning in student loans.

Back then, I just smiled like an idiot. I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Liam was poor, but he was brilliant. We constantly fought for the top spot on the Dean's List.

His roommates told me he was meticulous and scrubbed their dorm clean every weekend.

Plus, he was gorgeous. He had sharp, striking features and stood at a solid six-foot-two.

That same year, my dad’s business went under. I was too embarrassed to ask my parents for an allowance, so I took a job serving food in the campus dining hall.

Even wearing a hairnet and mask, feeling the stares of classmates I knew made my face burn with shame.

One day, an arrogant pre-med student—a guy I regularly beat in exams—stood on the other side of the glass sneering at me. He complained that his beef stew only had potatoes, then whined that his pasta was overcooked, intentionally trying to humiliate me.

The line behind him was backing up, and the murmurs were getting louder.

That was when Liam appeared.

He took the serving spoon right out of my hand and expertly scooped a perfect portion onto his own tray.

The pre-med guy opened his mouth to complain, but Liam’s voice was icy:

"You got your food. Move."

The guy glared at me but eventually slinked away.

After that day, Liam was always looking out for me. Then, toward the end of our junior year, a miracle happened. Some old factory land my dad bought years ago was purchased by commercial developers. A massive windfall hit our family—enough that we would never have to worry about money again.

I quit the dining hall job.

The day I quit, Liam confessed his feelings.

"Chloe, I'm in love with you."

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

"But..." He hesitated. "I don't have money. My family is broke. Even with my scholarships, the second I graduate, every paycheck is going straight to my student loans."

"Knowing all that, do you still want to be with me?"

At the time, my family was newly rich. My dad spent his days bragging about the zeros in his bank account.

With zero financial worries of my own, I was fully prepared to dive into a romance where money didn't matter.

I nodded vigorously and promised I didn't care. Liam let out a huge breath of relief and took my hand.

I held onto that hand for five years.

In those five years, Liam "proposed" to me three times.

The first time was at our graduation. Riding an adrenaline high, he snatched a bouquet of carnations his frat brother was supposed to give to a professor and dropped to one knee in front of the whole quad.

The second time was our second year in the workforce. He had finally paid off his student loans. He took me out for cheap tacos, downed a few beers, and proposed using the aluminum pull-tab from his beer can.

The third time...

The third time was this past New Year's Eve. He actually put effort into it. He booked my favorite ski resort, dressed up in a ridiculous bear mascot costume, and bought roses and champagne.

But it was also that exact proposal that led to a massive fight. It ended in disaster.

We had been giving each other the silent treatment for a month until tonight, when he asked me to dinner to apologize.

And that dinner resulted in this absurd "engagement" and the AI-generated jewelry.

"Chloe... what are you thinking?" Sarah asked over the phone.

What was I thinking?

I forced a bitter smile. Over the past month of our cold war, the word breakup had been hovering on the tip of my tongue countless times.

That night, my sleep was plagued by nightmares.

I dreamt I was running, and Liam was chasing me, holding jewelry folded out of gold foil wrappers. He was screaming, "Chloe! Marry me! If you don't like the AI jewelry, I made you some out of paper!"