The Note That Changed Everything

I finally got a ring for Karen. We had only been dating for six months, but I just knew she was the one. She was kind, beautiful, and even took care of my parents like they were her own. I wanted everything to be perfect when I proposed, so I planned to pop the question at our favorite café—with my parents there to witness the big moment.

The atmosphere was magical. Candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow on Karen’s face as she laughed over a joke my dad told. My heart pounded as I reached into my pocket, my fingers closing around the velvet box.

But then I noticed something odd.

The waiter, a guy who looked to be in his late twenties, kept watching us. Not in the casual, friendly way waiters do, but in a way that felt…off. His eyes darted between Karen and me, his expression unreadable.

I tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just nosy.

Then, just as I was about to drop to one knee, he walked over abruptly.

“Sir, your car is getting towed,” he said, his voice tense.

My heart sank. I had parked legally, hadn’t I? I couldn’t believe this was happening now, of all times. With a frustrated sigh, I excused myself and rushed outside.

But my car was exactly where I left it. No tow truck. No ticket. Nothing.

I turned back toward the café, confusion swirling in my mind. As I stepped inside, the same waiter brushed past me, slipping something into my hand. A folded note.

I opened it with trembling fingers.

**”Don’t propose. Ask her about James.”**

A chill ran down my spine. Who was James?

I looked up, but the waiter had disappeared into the kitchen. My pulse pounded in my ears as I turned back to Karen, who was laughing with my parents like nothing had happened.

I swallowed hard.

“Karen,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Who’s James?”

Her laughter died instantly. Her face paled. And that was the moment I knew—something was very, very wrong.